09/03/2026
I come from many years of anxiety, of expectations for myself I didn’t realize I borrowed from someone else, from masking into Type A, organized, on a schedule, from hiding being an artist, from one million snoozed alarms and late arrivals, from feeling piles of bees in my chest.
And I’ve arrived into some new kind of quiet. Or, not quiet, but a gentle hum so much more welcome than the flurry of panic, of abandoning myself, of trying to be what I thought I needed to be.
I worry every day as a small business owner, as a single person with a mortgage, as someone 39 and living alone, being so far from my goals…
…and every day I look around, astounded. I wake up with dogs on each side, in a bedroom the softest sweetest pink. I walk into my studio, my! Studio! to see the most wonderful friends and inspiring artists. I go for runs along the Baltimore Harbor, taken with the lights, with the water, with the steps of so many people calling this city home.
I’m so grateful. I’m so human. Thanks for being here with me. 💞
