Could this be yours? 🧩 Reclaiming stories

Hello, friend. Thank you for being here with me.

With so much heartbreaking loss and conflict still unfolding in our world, you could be doomscrolling or caught in a social media blitz, but instead, we’re sharing this moment. May we honor each other’s humanity in the midst of profound crises and uncertainty. May we seek, find, and create loving solutions. May we be part of the healing.

Lost & Found Stories

At a songwriting workshop in Santa Fe, New Mexico back in 2016, I got to collaborate on my first song with Andrea Baker, Malcolm Guite, and Joel Pinson. In a brainstorm session, Malcolm, a poet/singer-songwriter based in England, quoted Yeats’ poem “The Circus Animals’ Desertion,” which references a British rag-and-bone shop—a seller of cheap, secondhand goods. Drawing inspiration from the poem’s last stanza (I’m not cosigning on all of Yeats’ language), we explored finding value in castoffs and misfits. Here’s the quirky little number we wrote, released on Andrea Baker’s album Wild in the Hollow:

This past spring, I got to hike and camp with Black Girls Trekkin’ in Zion National Park, Utah, with those brilliantly patterned rock walls towering above us. What a transformative community experience! I was excited to wade upstream in the stretch of Zion’s slot canyon known as the Narrows. Sadly, the Virgin River was too dangerously swollen from snowmelt, but we did see spectacular waterfalls, including some that hadn’t flowed in years. I was in my element: nerding out over nature, leaving footprints, taking photos.

I’d found meaningful connection in the group I was traveling with. Then I lost connection to everyone else who knew me…

After the costly hassle of replacing my phone, my mind kept churning out regrets. The generator’s always running in the rumination factory. Why wasn’t I more careful, more responsible? I’d failed to double-check that my data from the last 20 months was backed up correctly. It had been a renaissance season. In one clumsy millisecond, my archive of special events, thousands of artistic shots, videos and stills of in-process projects, and all my bookmarked ideas vanished. Forgiving myself and letting go of what might’ve been took time.

But as a fellow artist pointed out, creating that art, living those moments, noticing all that beauty changed me. I can hold onto the learnings and the ways I improved my craft. I’m constantly discovering new things. And I’ve always been blessed with an overabundance of creative ideas.

At first, loss looks about as beautiful as a bruise and feels just as tender. But one day, at least for a moment, you’re able to peel off the heavy, gray coat of grief. You may find it’s got a little shimmer on the inside, maybe a pop of color or an unexpected pattern.

A friend once said that when you lose something, the universe regifts it to someone else to meet a need of theirs. I’m grateful for the gifts that found me this way, from a bubble umbrella left in a subway car to a blue bedspread that floated in on the tide. And I hope some lucky New Yorkers are picnicking on my zip-up blanket and wearing my widowed earrings as necklace pendants.

As Rumi wrote, “Anything you lose comes round in another form.” That said, endings are usually bittersweet, and jumping to toxic positivity to avoid pain or discomfort doesn’t protect our mental and physical wellbeing long-term. If you or someone you know could use some space to process any kind of loss or grief, I designed this journal to be a companion for the journey.

When I’ve let myself grieve instead of minimizing losses, I’ve moved on in a healthier way from relationships, jobs, and living situations that didn’t work out. Part of my deep work is believing nothing is wasted and trusting I’ll find a better match down the road. Pursuing those connections and opportunities has given me priceless experiences and insight into what I need, value, and deserve as well as what I want to (and am able to) invest.

Sneak Peek: Eco-Friendly Art

Here’s a mixed media landscape piece I’m creating out of cardboard boxes, a shingle torn from my roof in a windstorm, dryer sheets, burned wooden matches, feathers, crayon rubbings on handmade paper and colored cardstock, metallic nail polish, wrapping paper, and an envelope’s silver lining.

Why I love working with salvaged materials:

• Reduces environmental waste

• Removes barriers to my creative practice: I can use what’s accessible to me in any moment

• Costs little or nothing, frees me from scarcity fears

• Lowers the stakes: I take more spontaneous risks and follow my intuition instead of overthinking or being precious with materials

• Spurs me to reimagine the ordinary and to experiment with different techniques

Btw, special thanks to all of you who made the What You Make of It Reclaimed Art Journal one of my bestsellers!

Sustainability looks good on you.

I’ve built my boutique, Wild Honey Words, on the core values of creative care, authentic connection, diversity, and sustainability. To minimize waste and avoid overproduction, every item is custom made as soon as you order it.

Our eco-friendly line, which I’m always seeking to expand, offers reusable water bottles and bags (including organic cotton totes), apparel and accessories sewn from organic, salvaged, or recycled fabric, and artwork framed with wood from renewable forests.

I’m all about reusing household items wherever possible. Repurposing a quilted crystal jelly jar as a water glass inspired me to turn a photography study into the fabric design below.

And to commemorate 15 years of energy-saving public transportation rides (reducing pollution in NYC, Boston, Chicago, LA, and beyond), I designed this sturdy, reusable bag: