My go-to inspiration in high school was this daily calendar my mom had in her office. Each day featured a photograph from a scene in Ireland, and each day, at the end of the day, my mom would bring the paper home and give me the photograph to draw from. Before the days of Pinterest and Instagram, it was a bit tricky to find beautiful images to practice with. There were magazines of course and books, not to mention literally the world around you, but this was a game changer to get daily inspiration. In the 2000s, it was before the supremacy of the touchscreen smartphone with apps galore and fantastic cameras to snap photos in that you could carry around in your pocket. If you took photos for inspiration, you had to print them and it was not cheap. Printing even on printer paper was not cheap and trust me, parents did not like us wasting ink.
This is a taste of what the images featured via a modern source – Unsplash.
What is special to me about the framed image above is that I didn’t frame it. My grandparents did. It was a piece that I guess spoke to them and they framed it and hung it in their bedroom. Something I didn’t appreciate at the time, as a moody teenager I was embarrassed by it. Now in 2024, it hangs in the hallway outside my bedroom and when I see it hanging there proudly in its frame I remember how much they believed in my art, my writing, my fashion sense. I wish I could show them all that I am doing now. I think they would be proud.
For a while now, during Easter Week, I feel a bit like Charlie Brown, and like unsatisfied Chuck, I’ve been doing some thinking. Why does it feel like however I’m celebrating Easter that year, it’s just not exactly enough or appropriate for the gravity of what Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Resurrection Sunday truly represent?
Tradition!
Some of this feeling is my fault as I have changed churches a lot and gone through big moves and stretches of not knowing where to attend for a complex of reasons. That being said, I remember as a kid the feeling of joy and exaltation that filled the house from Palm Sunday on when I lived my grandparents. There was the music, a 1995 Easter cantata that my Grandma would play while baking tea rings, a Swedish wreath shaped pastry, for us and the whole neighborhood. It was a tea ring factory filled with music that told the story of Jesus’ triumphal entry, his walk to the Cross, his death and Resurrection, as told from different perspectives of witnesses.
My grandparents, I see now as an adult, gave me an example of balance for this holiday, because it wasn’t somber and it wasn’t trivialized into a holiday about bunnies and chocolate with a splash of Jesus. There was genuine joy, faith, and love for others expressed. Grandma would usually play piano at church on one of the Sunday services and Papa would help serve communion as part of his duties as a church Elder. He and I would enjoy the Easter chocolate after service and my extended family and friends would come over after church for a meal. There was usually a small candy egg hunt for me and my cousins too.
Since then two things have changed in my experience of Easter – the absence of family for those traditions and the absence of faith in our Easter celebrations.
When my mom got remarried I experienced my first Easter holiday where believing Easter was about Jesus was weird. My new family were and are some of the nicest people I’ve met and yet, this day was so weird because I’m not exactly sure what we were celebrating? As they grew up in the church but had moved away from the faith into adulthood and raised my cousins without any context of Jesus, it was an odd day, full of love and great memories, but a bit hollow? It was eye opening in a good way of the bigger context of the world and how not everyone believes the exact same things as you but you can still get along. It was a point of maturity for sure and put this ache in my heart for the old holidays with my grandparents.
The weirdest of these experiences for sure has been the holiday with traditions but without family. Do traditions matter if there is no one to share them with? It’s a weird place to think through because you don’t want to lose your family traditions, but like, you can’t help feeling like its dead without the rest of the family to share with. And this is not because my family all died, no just my grandparents did, and my extended family on that side lives within a 10 mile drive of each other. They simply have no interest in getting along anymore and have just dropped our family connection because of silly disagreements and its sad. Being on the receiving end of it it honestly feels like crap. There have been holidays I have absolutely dreaded because of this and its taken time to start to be okay with the new normal of being an island.
Love Your Neighbor as Yourself
Something that has helped me move forward to a new normal has been to focus on what the holiday is actually about – Jesus’s death and resurrection so that we can have salvation from our sins and become a new creation in Him. In doing this I found myself ironically back at the same problem, no matter how I celebrate this day it doesn’t feel like enough. Until yesterday while I was doing dishes and was daydreaming, I thought about something I think is profound.
I think the reason this holiday in the United States feels a bit flat is because this day represents a moment in humanity that is a bit bigger than just a day of remembrance. It’s a day where I want to give thanks to God for sending his son to do this amazing work of redemption. It was the ultimate gift that I have received. It symbolizes a new start and also a day of freedom and independence from my sin. It is essentially four of our major holidays rolled into one – Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and the Juneteenth/4th of July. Because of this I’m not sure if I will ever feel truly satisfactory with how I celebrate this holiday. I don’t think its possible and that’s okay. And potentially how the Reformed Presbyterian church (as much as my Wesleyan mind grumbles giving Calvinism the nod here) is right and celebrating the resurrection every Sunday is the most satisfactory.
So I guess my point here from all my rambling is that I miss my family, I wish they would come back but if they don’t its okay because there are others who love me that may not share my beliefs and the ultimate point of this holiday is not ham, candy, or pastry, it’s the resurrection and what we do with this fresh start. Giving in love of our time and our resources to bless others with what we have to continue what Jesus started almost 2000 years ago. He is risen! He is risen, indeed.
A goal I have in 2024, is to go through my yarn stash and use what I have to create unexpected pieces. A lot of my yarn has been sitting on my yarn shelf for a year so I decided to try a new approach to my design process – to create a garment from a color palette. I chose these five yarns to make a striped and joyful sweater that encapsulates the coolness of a winter landscape, yet the minty green hints at the spring yet to come.
This project was a journey! I didn’t quite know where it was going to end up. At first, my plan was to make a striped cardigan, but I worried about the sleeves. I thought the stripes would be too busy if carried on to the arms. I also had fears of playing yarn chicken. So I pivoted to an unusual piece because of how cool the bodice looked over a t-shirt. In the climate I live in there is no reason to wear an acrylic yarn vest over a t-shirt, but I couldn’t get the image of that out of my mind, so I made a “t-shirt” looking sleeve with the light gray yarn. For length and a bit of vintage flair, I added a peplum that took this piece to a place of whimsy that brings me joy.
When I look at this piece, I smile. When I wear this piece, I am filled with joy and sunshine. It is the first piece of knitwear I have designed that I think would show wonderfully on the runway and that is freaking cool! Lastly, I added a navy blue collar to the neck opening and gathered the neckline slightly so that it sat on my shoulders properly. The peplum was knit in two pieces where I continued the pattern and knit the sections wider than I needed to pleat it. Now that I’ve blocked the piece in the dryer it floats over the body and looks so effortlessly.
A new technique I used for this sweater was to knit one side at a time. I knit I believe 60 stitches across and began my striping pattern, switching colors after three rows. Next, I bound off stitches at my desired armhole position and carried on to the neckline where I again bound off stitches which made the shoulder more narrow than the rest of the garment. I then continued to knit down the back of the piece, mirroring the neckline by casting on a new row. I continued on to the armhole where I again, cast on more stitches and then followed the piece down to match the length of the front.
I did this a second time on the other side, mirroring the original. It is important to make sure you are mirroring so that the two pieces will match up knit side + knit side or else one side will be inside out – which is easier to do than you think! I ruined a previous project by doing that and had no choice but to rip it out. That’s okay! It’s all a part of the learning process!
If you’re a knitter or crocheter, I hope this project inspires you to get creative with your stash and make something out of the box. Or if you’re an artist, a maker, or just a human reading this, get creative with what you have! It is a fun journey. Thanks for taking time with me today! I hope you know that you are worthy, you are loved, and you are special to me. Until next time ❤
Seungmin in the building! I am beyond excited that Loewe chose Seungmin of Stray Kids to be an ambassador because he flies under the radar but has fantastic potential in this role from his personality to his visuals, this is going to be a great combination.
Loewe was another brand that I learned about in 2024 that is quickly becoming a favorite. I first heard of the brand in a discussion on Fashion Roadman’s channel and didn’t believe it would be for me, but I was sorely wrong! This is next-level art.
I truly enjoy the textures of Jonathan Anderson’s designs. Like the texture on the collar of the leather blazer, the texture of the rolling garden behind the dog, or the fluffy cloud-like texture effervescently emerging from the bottom of his knitwear. Not to forget the carpet-like floor of the black sweater vest with a brown collar. There is fun, there is whimsy, how is it this sophisticated and fun at the same time? I like the way the clothing is draped from the pants to the layers of lightness on his blouses and coats. The stunner is the plaid dress that melts into a stripe and then a solid like Willy Wonka’s Three Course Gum. Have I found a new designer whose work inspires me to want to learn more and create more? Yes.
“Whoever ignores instruction despises himself, but he who listens to reproof gains intelligence. The fear of the LORD is instruction in wisdom, and humility comes before honor.”
Proverbs 15:32-33 ESV
Doesn’t that sound like something Uncle Iroh would tell Prince Zuko in their quest to catch the Avatar? That’s what I thought of when I read it. A lot of my reading through Proverbs so far has similarly struck me. I will be reading a chapter, line after line of little tidbits of wisdom in the style of literature Solomon seemed to favor, that at times feels sing-songy like a bit of Shakespeare, and then “BAM!” I’m caught in my tracks by the profoundness of what the line of poetry just said. In those moments, I think of Uncle Iroh. I think anyone who is a fan of Avatar the Last Airbender, wishes they had an Uncle Iroh in their life because people like Uncle Iroh seem few and far between.
I think that’s why the loss of my grandparents feels like such a hole in my life, a vacuum of wisdom. I love my mom but it isn’t the same kind of relationship, there isn’t that well of wisdom that flows into our conversations because there is a different approach to life she follows. It’s a well-developed, rich, sort of wisdom that can only come with hard work and deep study of wisdom itself. They had that and they shared it willingly, sometimes to my chagrin as like young Zuko, I didn’t want to hear it.
And like Zuko of season two learns, the echo chamber of losing the voice of reason in your life is way more frustrating than hearing hard truths that mirror your own folly. It is irreplaceable. I miss their wisdom. I miss the surrounding of elders and wise people who seemed to be around me in childhood but seem harder to find with age. I think there is a passing of the torch so to speak whereby aging you are supposed to grow, change, and dwell with the wisdom of life to pass on to others and that transition can sometimes feel like you are treading water.
“If you look for the light you can often find it. If you look for the dark it is all you will ever see.”
Uncle Iroh
Growing older is odd. I never thought I would miss reproof and instruction but I do.
In the spirit of both the verses from Proverbs and the quote from Avatar the Last Airbender, the only way to fix this void is to look deeper and further to continue to seek out good influences in my life, and ways to be challenged to never settle who and where I am now, but to push further to find the well of wisdom and in turn be a well of wisdom to others.
Where do you go to find wisdom? Is it a person? A belief system? A text? Have you continued to seek after it, even crave it as you have gotten older? Have you been able to be an Uncle Iroh to someone in your life?
Stretch fabric and I have been at odds since I began sewing. I fight with it during the cutting process. The pins slip out while sewing. I’ve cut on the wrong stretchway and ended up with ill-fitting items and not enough scrap to fix it. My Heavy Duty Singer sewing machine which is named, Señor Senior Singer, tends to eat my flimsy knit fabric and lightweight gauze projects, dragging them underneath to jam the machine, and ripping the fabric in the process!
It’s overall been a losing battle, so much so that I have been wary to purchase stretch fabric unless it is on a ridiculous clearance sale because my patience is shot.
This is literally how I feel when the fabric gets trapped under the needle plate and the only way to jailbreak it is to rip it. It drives me bonkers! Why must it keep eating the nice fabric I cut, pinned, and draped into this beautiful form. Was it done so that you, my sewing machine could devour it like a snack?! I digress.
This is where I had to humble myself, accept that something was missing in my technique, and do some research. It turns out I needed to change my approach, which is progress! I first, took a break from my machine sewing, because we needed some relationship counseling at this point, and returned back to hand sewing. I took an approach that matched the speed of a tortoise, sewing small pieces together each day. Work on it no longer than 90 minutes or give my fingers a break or the tendonitis returns in my knuckles. It was tough to keep myself to this snail’s pace of a schedule. It took a week to sew one shirt. That is incredibly slow, even for me when I was hand sewing, but it allowed me to remember, and appreciate, why my relationship with my sewing machine is important. And why I needed my technique to change because this pace drove me mad.
It turns out the secret fix to my woes was adjusting my tensioner on the machine way down, like below five to a section of the dial I didn’t realize actually existed. I thought this would make my garments flimsy but instead, it allowed my fabric to feed under the needle without getting gobbled up.
Secondly, I needed to begin seams about an inch or two away from the edge and sew from there, backtracking at the end to finish the seam. This allowed the fabric to have a tail that guided it over top of the needle plate as I started sewing instead of getting drug underneath by the needle.
Lastly, Kyle helped me add some structure to my sewing table, by adding support under the middle of the table directly under my machine to keep the machine from vibrating and bouncing my seams into nonsensical shapes. I purchased an anti-vibration mat for my machine to sit up on and a matching anti-slip mat for the pedal to have more control and finesse in my sewing, instead of chasing my pedal with my foot.
It was a night and day difference. Dare I say fun? Yes, it made sewing the stretch fabric and the light flimsy fabric a blast. A quick, neat seam was no problem in my sewing studio now!
Here’s the result of my new-found knowledge – four new properly sewn stretch garments that make me feel properly chuffed! The moral of this story is to not give up but to have a teachable spirit when life throws you some curve balls. There is always room to grow and improve if we are willing to seek out the wisdom.
What strategies do you use to cope with negative feelings?
It’s taken a while for me to find healthy coping mechanisms when negative feelings wash over me. Before I used to push the feelings down and grow numb, I’d clam up, or I’d get angry and stay angry. I’d shop for the heck of it or engage in self-destructive behavior like drinking or fighting with people I cared about until they didn’t want to talk to me anymore. I’d punish my body with exercise or restrictive eating. After a certain point the negative feelings and my destructive solutions, came to run my life and the anxiety and depression I had been allowing to take root in my life were in the driver’s seat and I was not even a passenger looking out the windshield, but was all the way in the backseat and had no concept of where the car was going.
Three years ago, I decided to take charge of my responses to stress and negative feelings. I stopped using alcohol as a crutch when I was overwhelmed by stressful and painful life situations and decided to look my pain in the eye and face it down. Now, I’m not doing this alone, when I made this decision I surrendered it to God, and chose to let Him be my driver of the car instead of myself or my anxiety and depression. It wasn’t any easy choice. It was scary but also an unknown to be explored. It was a new beginning.
Prayer
Prayer became the immediate lifeline between me and the negative emotions in my mind in combination with spending time in God’s word. Consciously shifting my perspective from, I’m alone and I’m scared to I’m scared but I’m never alone truly helped me feel sure footed when negative emotions clouded over my mind. Was it an instantaneous fix? Yes sometimes and other times it was a slow burn, it’s been a process of sanctification.
Focusing on God can pull me out of panic attacks and remind me that I am loved when dysfunctional people in my life make me question that. But I’ve found that when I’m really dialed into my relationship with God that is where I see the most results because prayer is about preparation. Being consistent so when those big, scary emotions come I can remember God’s promises. Being present keeps my eyes fixed on Him and helps me feel His presence even though I cannot see Him in front of me.
Has it taken away the negative emotions completely? No, they still happen and I still get anxious and depressed but I don’t remain there. Like a rain storm there is a clear sky on the other side, the morning always follows the night.
Poetry
I started writing poetry again back in December after a long hiatus, like maybe five years of turning away from it because of a friendship that I didn’t want to have creative competition in. That was a mistake because poetry, like journaling is an incredible way to walk your mind through your negative thoughts and process them through creating a work of art in words. Whenever my head feels too full with emotions and negative thoughts I pour them on to the page. I have specific notebook for this purpose and I say what I am feeling to my notebook.
I’ve done this as a way to get out of a loop of insomnia I was stuck in because of grief and it helped me digest the pain that was hovering in my mind so that I could move to the other side and back to a more balanced mind. Some poems I share and some are just kept for my own creative expression. It’s like Dumbledore’s Pensieve in Harry Potter. The memories, emotions, and negative thoughts are extracted on to the page where they can live and my mind can have some rest. Which is oh so nice for an over thinker like myself, who will continue to think until the wee hours of the night on problems there is no clear answer to.
Music
Since I received my iPod nano in 2008, I have been a music escapist. I need my headphones and my music at the ready for trips, errands, social situations, etc. I crave that escape when the world feels like too much. I need music to carry me through what I’m feeling and get my emotions out.
I usually run to music when I’m feeling angry, fed up, or in pain. I will play it loud and let the beat and the bass overwhelm me in its world until the anger feels less explosive. I’ll run to music when I’m feeling scared and uncomfortable to distract and get my mind out of the loop its in. Music is motivating. My favorite go to songs when I feel like I’m going to explode from all the emotion inside and I’m feeling anger rise in me are LALALALA Rock Version by Stray Kids, Cover Me by Stray Kids, Bouncy (K-Hot Chili Peppers) by Ateez, Guerilla by Ateez, Haegeum by Suga, Kill this Love by Blackpink, or Drama by Aespa.
Exercise
The other day I felt some unsolvable pain due to an increasingly dysfunctional relationship I have with a parent and I wanted to give into the temptation of destructive behavior. I wanted to drain my bank account with a shopping spree and get very drunk because I felt so helpless from this relationship ever getting better here on Earth. I was frustrated and wanted to feel pain because I was feeling angry and numb. Instead of doing something destructive, I decided to work out, and push my body though exercise to embrace the burn to feel something instead of hurting myself and my future. It worked!
I was motivated to lift weights longer, hold wall sits and planks longer, to push my leg muscles, my core, and my arms to higher reps. It was awesome and constructive instead of destructive but with the release of anger in a healthy way. I remember my Papa telling me that he would channel all the anger he had from his own dysfunctional parents on the football field and get the emotions out through the physicality of the game. It truly made a difference and I was able to no longer feel explosive after my workout because although the pain and negative thoughts were still hovering in the background, I felt like I was no longer trapped in my mind.
Art
When I don’t know what to do with my mind, I make art. I get creative and let myself escape into a world of my own creation in order to get out of my own head and my swirling negative thoughts. Getting creative reminds me of what my purpose is and my calling and helps me to remember that there is more to life than the bad times. There is so much beauty beyond what I am currently stuck in, when I’m feeling low, that I need to carry on and make something beautiful. Get out of my own head and remember that I have worth, I have the ability to create beauty in this world, and I can do better than those around me who hurt me. Art is uplifting. Creating is nourishing. It channels the pain into something more than it started as, it becomes a touch point of connection with others and the world around us.
My favorite way to escape into art is to draw landscapes, flowers, animals, and the sky in the majesty of a sunset.
In 2011, my senior year of high school, one of my close friends opted to not come back to our school for his final year and instead chose to do cyber school which meant, because of how much time he already spent working and playing a little game called war of warcraft, I was going to lose contact with him. Now, at the time, I had known this friend since we were toddlers, through church and later on school, it seemed too important to let that friendship fade into nothingness just because of change of life. I knew there was one modern way to stay connected, a way I dreaded and had put off as long as possible – Facebook. And so in 2011, I bit the bullet and got one.
I instantly regretted my decision.
All of a sudden my feed was filled with information overload in the way only social media can with details that honestly make you feel a bit insecure, like realizing, I knew I was a bit of an outsider at school but oh my, a lot of parties and social events were happening that weren’t on my radar that were now showcased page after page. Suddenly, the peace and tranquility of my quiet introverted life, one connected to people outside classmates, was gone. Poof. I felt a comparison. I felt lacking. I felt lame. A person missing the plot that everyone else got. Who were these people I thought I knew?
Was I doing this all wrong? Should I have more friends? The friend count, the status symbol of ye olde Facebook, some of my fellow friends had 1000s of friends and I was struggling to think of 100 people I knew well enough to add. The profile picture, the clever status updates, the albums upon albums of photos of normal days and things. What was this weird and aspirational world? And where did my feeling of contentment go? In an instant, it left me like a hat on a windy day.
I look back on this feeling and wish I had rolled the dice on keeping in touch through email or text because that friendship didn’t last once we entered college and went our separate ways, but those feelings of insecurity and comparison, they took root. Not just me, but I think all of us are waking up to this and how social media is stealing our joy and our world from what it can be.
After all, we know now that Facebook is a terrible way to keep friendships going, except we didn’t know that yet. I mean I think everyone over the age of 60 at the time knew it was not a replacement for having a social life, but we like intrepid explorers too cocky to listen to the warning that the river was going to turn into a waterfall went tally-ho onward into the mist and went over the waterfall. And now with our broken bits of boat and sputtering of water in our lungs, we see our friends float by us in the river and yet just like the metaphor, we are unable to link arms because the current of the algorithm is taking us where it wants to. Unhappy and alone, we arrived in 2024 and it was time for me to climb ashore.
I was watching the first season of the Great British Bake Off with Mary Berry, Paul Hollywood, Sue Perkins, and Mel Giedroyc, circa 2010 and I felt this overwhelming yearning to go back, back to 2010. Like this scene in Joe Wright’s Pride and Prejudice where Elizabeth sees Mr. Darcy appear in the fading mist of dawn.
I thought about this, why did I feel such a strong pull toward this time? I don’t particularly love the fashion of this period nor was it the most exciting time of my life, it was high school for goodness sake with the season of SATs and college applications. But it was strung together with moments of deep authenticity, real connections, and life spent living in real life instead of online. I spent my days with real people, not a screen with someone behind the screen talking to me. It was real and my world, with my people. I wasn’t worrying about FOMO or what other people were doing, I didn’t consider what other people were doing if I wasn’t there or how I should be spending my time compared to what other people were doing. I was just living. It was before social media had its claws into me and the world.
I remember the world being less performative, less homogenous, and more authentic. If someone was cool it was usually because they were doing their own thing and owning it. If someone was pursuing a hobby or a career it was because they had a passion for it, not for social media clout or to be like everyone else. Phones were for texts and phone calls, sometimes photos. At social events, particularly family events and meals, they stayed in your pocket.
If you were using your phone you were actively talking to someone. People knew things and retained information because Google wasn’t at the ready. You had to discuss and determine things through research, using a book or a computer. Photos existed in physical albums, in frames, on fridges, and in wallets. Body dysmorphia existed, but was less of a constant because in person you can’t Photoshop and filter, you have to accept who you are enough to be in person. Trips were shared through home movies, photos, and stories around a table with food and drink.
At that moment, I realized I was done. Done with pretending I like this fake world of connection. I separated my Instagram from my Facebook so that I could continue sharing photos to my Instagram sewing portfolio account, because that is for exposure not connecting, and deactivated my Facebook. I kept Messenger so that three specific people could still reach me and I hit that deactivate button. And I have to say, it felt like a fake haze lifted from my world. That chapter was done and I feel a peace washing over me again.
If it was as easy as leaving one social media platform, what other little swaps could I do to find those things that made the world feel so real and connected before the social media age? That is my next quest. Onward into normal, human connections!
To be honest, before Johnny of NCT was appointed as a brand ambassador and flew out for Paris Fashion Week, I had no idea what Acne Studios was. Zip, nothing, nada. But holy moly, I love their style. Acne Studios is a Swedish luxury brand, based in Stockholm. Their creative director is Jonny Johansson, so there is a lot of Johnny’s involved here which is kind of funny to me, but anyway, I’d have to say Jonny is becoming one of my favorite creative directors of the time!
This collection is sculptural, wearable, and a lot of fun for showcasing a lot of neutrals. The knitwear is utilized refreshingly with cuffs on the dresses, full-length asymmetrical zipper coats, and a turtleneck crop top bustier. It showcases how versatile and capable the craft of knitting is.
My other favorites are the handbag dresses, the orange version is pictured below, for the kitschy zip-top closure and surreal nature of this design. It was out of the box and that is what these shows should be about. It is a fantasy. All these pieces fit in a fantasy world that can become our world, because of the attention to detail to make them still wearable. I’m a fan now!
One Rabbit Riot 