Don't forget to give yourself something special this season. Who else is diving into Dr. Brené Brown's latest book, Atlas of the Heart?
As dormancy settles in, I wanted to look back once more on all the beauty the flower garden gave, to reflect, to remind myself to embrace the seasons, the shifts, the rest. More beauty will come, but the decay, the shedding is necessary. What will I cherish and keep? What will I shed? What new growth will emerge next spring after this season of hibernation? I will just have to wait and see.
By the weekend, I sounded like a caricature of a chain-smoking granny. My voice was shot. Probably a white flag of surrender from my body amidst a whirlwind two months. There was a trip to Florida. A trip to Nola. A beach photoshoot. A decision on a puppy... and more!
it is with an extremely heavy heart that I share of Honey’s passing. Always one for a chase, Honey escaped her yard, and tragically, she was hit by a car and didn’t make it. To say there is a Honey-sized hole in our hearts is an understatement. It's hard to make sense of death, to grasp the surrealness of it, but honoring Honey through his memorial fundraiser, and seeing the overwhelming support thus far, has helped me to feel warmth and connection in spite of such loss.
Taking the time to love our homes is important. Everyone deserves a home that's a "hell yeah!" As fall settles in, as a season of hibernation looms, I hope you're able to take the time to nourish your space and yourself. In the meantime, I'd love to share my home with you.
There is a lot of momentum for action and change now, but the road to racial equality is long. There are many insightful resources being circulated and shared as a reaction to the protests. I didn't want to get lost in these lists, or simply repost them and move on with my life. Black people are confronted and threatened by these issues daily. They do not have the option to move on with their lives, especially when their lives are in constant danger. The fact that I will never truly understand the trauma of being black is why I need to step up my actions.
For most of my life, I have been drawn to rusty, faded, chipped and tarnished vintage collections. I've been drawn to the stories of these imperfect objects, to the lives they have lived. New, uniform objects that roll off assembly lines have always paled in comparison to the character of vintage collections.
When my friend and fellow creative, Erin Kelly, asked me recently if I had read The Artist's Way, I felt a nudge from the universe. I've known about this book for years and had shelved it up high on a someday shelf. I'd never made the leap to reading the book and putting the free-form writing into motion. Until now. I could feel the conspiring of the universe. This was the time to start this path.