Tag: personal development

Individuals Without Individuality

What does it mean to be an individual? Are you a person? A sum among parts? An island? A unique person, maybe? What does it mean to do things individually? What does individuality mean to an individual? I really wish this word, and its forms, weren’t so tricky to spell with my slightly dyslexic mind (not formally diagnosed, but it runs in the family). It’s a lot to digest, but this has probably been stewing in my mind for the past year, waiting for me to plate it up.

My culture is incredibly individualistic, and this is expressed in good ways and bad. One good way is that my country is a land of immigrants and indigenous people, meaning there are voices, ideas, and ways of doing things. But when there are people, there are forces of wanting to fit in, wanting to control and suppress, and prescribed ideas of the “best” way. I think this has been at the forefront of my mind because I see a vast amount of content being shared online saying originality is dead, or personal style has been killed by the algorithm. We are all core-ified or aesthetically boxed in, and social media has commodified subcultures. But it’s the internet, critiquing the internet, so we’re of course using broad, and extreme brushstrokes here.

Where my mind has drifted to is the sameness. I see people online discussing the boringness of everything from movies to the same cosmetic procedures, the bland landscape of interior design, and starter pack cliches for “types” of women. There is a sea of Petite Knit patterns, a galaxy of Marvel media that repeat the same formula, reboot television, and romantic tropes pushed by publishers and BookTok to make everything fit nicely in the digital marketing ecosystem. Then we fall into nostalgia, like recession pop, which I found myself listening to the other day, reminiscing about my first summer as a member of Geneva’s painting crew in 2010. Thinking about how different life was before I even had a Facebook.

What we talked about and the memories I made with the women and men of my team were tangible, not digital. We discovered what we liked based on environmental forces, like books assigned in school, books suggested by a friend, etc. Music was discovered and shared by radio play, recommendations from others, and shared playlists that your friend curated, not the music streaming platform or the algorithm. I thought a bit less about my appearance, I mean, in adolescence, you are quite aware, but not as much as the smartphone era has brought attention to the physical image of ourselves. I had fewer pictures, grainier pictures, but more memories. Strong memories are tied to tangible things, like songs, food, books, buildings, and movies. We were all very different from each other, yet we could find commonality, and this is where the gears in my mind started turning.

We were part of a group, but had individuality. Yet, nowadays I feel more like I’m in a void, of no commonality, except for how everyone is into the same things, and wears the same clothes, yet we are not connected, communicating, nor would I even consider that despite our shared things we are on a team or part of a community. It’s hollow.

I think we are missing the point of life. We are not working towards something together. We are not part of communities. We are part of aesthetics. We have become fans not of art or sport but of corporations like Target, Lululemon, Sephora, Stanley, and Tesla. Well, probably not Tesla anymore. Target is also being boycotted, so…anyways. Apple, Alo, Rhode, Kate Spade, Trader Joe’s, Labubu. That’s more 2025, phew. Why are we stanning companies? Why are we considering shopping for a hobby? This is not a way to connect; it is a way to consume and drown in stuff instead of substance. Our roots are becoming so shallow, and our debt is vast; we are plants choked out by the weeds of hyper-individualism. We have let originality become a thing achieved not by character formation and real-life community, but by the path of purchase. Purchases for ourselves. It snuck in so fast, I didn’t realize how the art of gift giving has become a self-care checklist. Yikes! It wasn’t until playing Stardew Valley and Animal Crossing: New Horizons that I was struck by how topsy-turvy my own culture has become. Our priorities are whack, and I believe it has made us lonely, shells, devoid of individual thought, buying our way to “happiness” because all we think about is our individual needs above all. We have forgotten that humans are fulfilled by the relationships and communities we are rooted in. It’s time to break the spell.

Unmasking is Hard

The term “unmasking” was new to me when I first learned of my neurodivergence. I saw it on Pinterest and Instagram, displayed in captions and little relatable memes, but what did it mean?

I felt the full experience of what it means a few nights ago when I was invaded once again by rising anxiety, flooding through my mind, and this pressure, invisible yet firm, closing in on me. I knew deep down that I was close to having a meltdown, from environmental things that a neurotypical would brush off. I also knew that I couldn’t melt down; it wasn’t safe to be me. I couldn’t stim, that would be looked down upon with pity. I had to put on that mask, the normal-brained facade I’ve studied my whole life to become invisible and just blend into the sea of normies.

I feel this pressure to mask the most when I am interacting with my family. My mom and her side, for a brief time, my dad and his side. It’s a quagmire, being the offspring of two very domineering, neurotypical, narcissistic humans.

It’s a lot of work. Why am I sharing this? Because if you feel this way, you are not alone. I see you. I support you. I am rallying for you and I to make it through these moments holding space for us to be as we are, and to feel like we are enough. We don’t need to be fixed, we need to cope with this wild world that doesn’t understand us.

Like an ill-fitting garment, the clothes are the problem not your body. Your brain is not the problem, the world favors one way of doing things and that doesn’t make it right. Being louder doesn’t make your point more correct. There is nothing wrong with who you are and who you were created to be.

I hope wherever you are, this finds you well. That you are safe, loved, valued, and being kind to yourself. The world needs more kindness. Know that I love you and support you. Take the mask off, breathe, stim, and find peace.

Until next time ❤

Phone Calls in the Smartphone Era

As a Zillennial, on the cusp of both Gen Z and Millennials, my generation(s) have been stereotyped by the older folks as being afraid of phone calls, preferring a text to a voice on the other end of the line. And for a while, I’d say, yeah, I fell into this place of preferring a text as a teenager or chatting online, in my moody, insecure teenagedom, but then the phone call became this novelty of a thing. Calling someone seemed so serious, I became apprehensive if my question or answer was “serious” enough to warrant a call.

I didn’t want to be a burden, which is such a strange upside-down world from childhood, when the phone was the only way to contact your friends. I remember in the days of late elementary school, email being another exciting tool to communicate, like letters, but now email has become an intrusive contact on my smartphone. And maybe, that’s because email felt like real mail, when you could only check it on your window of computer time on the shared family computer. There was a boundary between online and offline. My mind has been marinating on this since watching a Theresa Yea video called, Why the Internet Will Never Be Cool Again.

I’m currently stuck in an endless game of phone tag, which is quite common when I am talking regularly to one of my parents. With my dad, it was a long game of waiting for that perfect window of nothingness. His layover in a city he found boring, I’d keep him company as he complained about life. Entertaining him and supporting him in his time of boredom, because if he were home, he was on the go every single moment. If I needed him, he would usually call me back on a drive home with a small set window for his attention span or horrible service.

My mom, in a similar fashion, gets stuck in these loops going non-stop. Except she answers the phone in loud restaurants, in the car, or at events, just to tell me that she is not available. She will even talk to other people around her, making me wait, or will pass the phone to the people she is with, as if I want to say hi to them when I really just wanted to converse with her about something important.

There is nothing like being on the brink of a panic attack and having your mom pass you to an acquaintance to say hi instead of listening to your crisis. Especially when you called because you thought they were home and available, but really, your loved one is always on the go. Not emotionally available. I hate calling and being met with passive-aggressive pressure to stop talking and let her go, even though she chose to answer the phone and enter into conversation like she was available at first, only to break that illusion as soon as you answer “how you are doing”. Read the room, kid, but honestly, how can I? This is particularly confusing when my parents both let me know how they would prefer me to live closer so I would be more available, but would it matter?

The video call and the text have become two of the most intrusive manners of communication, because a text should be responded to promptly and a video call, in her mind is perfectly normal to answer in a public setting like a restaurant or car without letting me know before I speak, what I believe I am saying in private to a person who is available to talk, to be swiftly gotcha-ed by the fact that I am not alone, and my privacy is not respected. The video call is like a two-edged sword; it is nice to connect with friends and family over long distances, but it is also a tool that hinders connection. It drops in unannounced and forces conversations that should be private to be open to the room.

I crave the dedicated correspondence of my grandma’s era, when she moved to another town, which meant that calling her mom would be categorized as long distance, and so she and her mom wrote letters to each other every day. I haven’t had that kind of connection with my mom since she got remarried, and I miss that feeling of connection, of being heard. It’s something that carried through my Grandma and my Aunt Florence’s generation, my phone calls with them being so intentional and full of connection. It was a visit, a catch-up, and was treated with hard boundaries. The common thread here is the lack of a smartphone.

Phones were still seen as tools to converse, not mini-computers full of distractions. I find this intentionality coming back to conversations I have with my friends; there are boundaries and moments set aside to converse without distractions. We have planned phone calls or dedicated pauses to set aside other tasks to write longer messages, like letters, through messaging apps. It has improved our communication and respect for each other’s time, in a way that I wish I could have with my parents. I just want to connect and not be connected. I want to converse and not call. I want to correspond and not text.

It is all a pipe dream, because this is never going to happen, they are just too enamoured with technology and the endless possibilities of their boomer generation, and the financial leg up that their generation has to be on the go and do things nearly constantly. We live in two different worlds, and that makes me sad.

Structure and Flow: Sewing in Two Minds

Like I said in my 2025 So Far Has Been a Creative Slump, I am sharing the projects I’ve hidden away in my closet and the photos buried in my gallery. It’s time to catch up on this blog on what I’ve been sewing, because it’s been a journey of new discoveries.

Go With the Flow

In 2022, Kyle gave me a unique birthday present. He curated a mystery box of fabric for me to do my own “Project Runway” challenge – one of those fabrics was this sheer wheat colored criss-cross fabric. It has lived in my stash ever since. It was a fabric that scared me but intrigued me. It’s a stretch mesh burnout pattern, and for over a year, I was baffled at how to sew it without destroying it.

Even so, after I sewed it into a garment, how would I apply it? Would it be a garment that would be sewn layered on top of an opaque fabric? What would that look like? Should I use a high contrast fabric or something similar in tone? It stumped me. I lived with it a bit more in my stash, and it came with me through the move and into the fall once more. In 2024, after two years, I had an idea – sheer layering. A garment I could wear under or over other pieces to add dimension and disguise the oatmeal color that I was concerned would wash me out.

My decision was to make a shirt. I thought making it a “basic” would provide the most opportunity to style it in my wardrobe. I sewed the delicate fabric with my machine very slowly. I relaxed the tension of the thread and progressed delicately, ready to hand-sew at any moment of panic. It was not terrifying; it was possible.

Structure of a Bodice – Armor

Many years ago, back in 2021 (four years ago, what?!) I crafted a structured dress, based on Lizzie Bennet’s dress, when Charlotte Lucas announces her marriage to Mr. Collins. It was a vest and a skirt, with buttons and a collar. It was ambitious but rubbish, yet a project I can’t stop thinking about how I could have made it better.

Enter this fabric and this bodice shape. It looks like an armor piece made of vintage ditzy flower fabric, lined with muslin. I wanted to reclaim what I learned in 2021, but try again in 2025, since the failure of my early projects made me shrink back to “easy” projects. I’ve made things that have challenged me a little bit, but not a true experiment. Constant growth is painful. Think of your body after consistent workouts, you’re going to hurt. It’s part of the process of getting stronger, and it feels at times like a negative experience. That feeling ground me down. I was tired of the learning experiences that felt more like loss and waste than an expression of crafting and artistry. It’s human, it’s passion, how can we not want the fruit of our labor to produce something good?

I made this dress slowly, over several weeks, while working on other projects, while being sick. It was a slow, steady, careful process to make a dress that would bring me joy from the creation and the wearing. The other thing I had to wrestle with, in this project, was shaking off the demons of my Lizzie Bennet dress. It was a dress I felt pretty in, but that I took a lot of crap for my appearance when I wore it out. It was structured, fitted, and flowy. The waist was not perfectly matched to the small of my waist, due to my lack of tailoring knowledge. This dress prompted a stranger to ask me when I was due, and then doubled down that I looked pregnant. I wasn’t pregnant, so to her, I looked fat. Thanks lady.

It was rude and such a breach of boundaries. Don’t ask random strangers if they are pregnant; wait for them to clearly tell you. It feels like a slap in the face for so many toxic culture reasons, the main one is the unwanted comment on your body with the double standard of “pregnancy being the most beautiful,” but don’t look pregnant, aka don’t be fat, because the zeitgeist is fat-phobic. I got rid of the dress and don’t have any photos saved of the dress; that’s how much this experience ruined the dress for me. I lacked the confidence to brush it off. I didn’t understand my body’s proportions and lines, therefore, I blamed my body and myself for the dress not working, instead of my tailoring skills being the problem.

2025 Style – Layering and Reclaiming

I chose to confront this feminine dress style once again. I knew it would clash with the natural lines of my body. I don’t have an hourglass body shape, which this fit and flare dress calls for. I’ve been scared to wear it, but I am challenging myself to try. I layered the sheer shirt I made in 2024 with this dress and a belt to create balance. It’s going to take time to get comfortable, for sure.

The dress not only has this flowy skirt, but it is fully lined, and the front gathering has been tracked down with stitches to reduce waist bulk. I also added eyelets and lacing at the back of the garment to define the waist, Lastly, I added a belt to my waist, which I don’t enjoy wearing, but the effect of pulling the eye to the waist should reduce unwanted comments, I hope. I like the contrast of these garments together. They have flow and structure. Together they create a complete thought, and in my opinion, look like designs with a point of view, which is what I am aiming for in my designs 2025.

My 2025 So Far Has Been A Creative Slump

I can’t believe it’s May already, I’ve been so busy with our garden project and a follow up project of screening in our back porch, distracted by Joann’s closure and the evil running rampant in our world that I have been on a slow creative trajectory, and its really catching up to me!

Upcycling, Alterations, Mending

As of late, the bulk of my sewing projects have been preservation, updates, or reworking the garment into something new. In mid-winter, I decided to tailor every t-shirt in my closet. This meant I would be hemming every shirt to end above my hip and bringing the end of the sleeve upward, to end higher on my arm, which is more flattering to my vertical line. I’ve had to repair a few garments and mend some older pieces. I’ve also been taking some of my clothes in and tearing them apart to be upcycled into new projects I can’t wait to share. That I thought I already shared. This leads me to the next point: I have a backlog of projects I held back last fall.

The Head Games of Content

I still battle imposter syndrome, and in doing so, last year, feared that I would run out of ideas. So I slowed down my posting to keep these good ideas and projects in the tank for a rainy day, and instead of this giving me the freedom to create and write without pressure this gave my type-B nature and out to avoid writing, because I had the ideas, and so I sat on them and now it is almost a year later, without these projects having their time to shine. Grinding it out on Instagram last year definitely took my focus from me, and then these constant recession fears have kept me in a place of fear, which has stifled my desire to create, in case I can’t buy more materials in the future. I worry too much. Writing for two years, on this site, led me to a sophomoric slump heading into 2025. I lost the urgency to keep going and backslid into complacency and a lack of creativity. I have also transitioned into a slower creative process in hopes of gaining that spark again!

Hand Sewing 2: Electric Boogaloo

When I began sewing in 2020, I did so through sewing by hand through the tutorials of Bernadette Banner. I did this for two years and then acquired my Heavy Duty Singer, which I switched to using exclusively from the end of 2022 through the beginning of 2025. But this year, I am having some struggles with my sewing machine. I love the speed at which you can make things, but I fear that this boost in speed has dampened my craftsmanship.

When I was sewing by hand, I had the time to consider the project and to ponder where the design was going to lead me. With my sewing machine, I have fallen into a bad habit of making without pausing to ponder. I also started designing simpler, easier-to-sew garments for efficiency instead of art. But speaking of efficiency, I don’t think sewing machines are as efficient as we make them out to be. Mine is quite finicky. It eats fabric and thread. I go through the thread considerably quicker using my Singer than I do by hand. I have to rip seams and sew again, many times, because the machine messed up a stitch or skipped stitches altogether, and I’m tired of it. So my machine and I are taking some time apart.

Slow and Steady, A Life of WIPs

And so, here I am months later with a few finished garments, many WIPs, and a better life balance. Including a refreshed creative well. The time spent working outside with Kyle crafting our screened porch, tilling garden beds, painting, upcycling furniture, studying Japanese, drawing, reading, exercising, etc, has been a wonderful way to remember why I love creating. I find knitting to be my happy place. For a week, I barely knitted, and my mind was filled with far more rage without the needles weaving yarn into cloth. I’ve come to a place in my sewing journey where I want to learn and be ambitious again. I’ve filled my closet with good handmade pieces, but I want to create exceptional, one-of-a-kind things.

I have learned that knitting is my favorite mode of creation, and sewing is the freedom to make what I don’t want to buy or can’t find offered. The process is just as important as the final product, as trite as that is, creation and crafting are where we thrive, not consuming. I find moments of calm in working with my hands and feel satisfaction in stepping away to old creative haunts, like painting or gardening. I think the slump was an important part of growing. I hope that you find creative refreshment and know that you are loved. Stay safe out there, these are dangerous times, and know that I care about you all very much.

What About the Garment Workers? 2025 Edition

There are a lot of things about this new Trump term that are setting my jaw. The newest one, though, happens to be the tariffs zeroing in on Vietnam, and something we are losing sight of in this discussion—what is going to happen to garment workers?

Vietnam is one of many countries in the global south that are responsible for the garments and shoes we wear every day. In May 2024, they surpassed China as the largest textile and garment market share for U.S. imports. The nation employs around 2.5 million people within the 6000 garment and textile factories across Vietnam. This rapid growth of 37 billion USD worth of garments being made in Vietnam in 2024, from 26 billion USD in 2017, is due to the low wages of Vietnam compared to the higher wages of China and even higher wages in the United States. In the 1980s, before Clinton’s NAFTA in 1993, garments sold in American stores were made in the United States, but this changed during the Clinton era and has gotten worse in the 32 years since through the rise of fast fashion and the fashion industry’s reliance on cheap labor at the expense of the garment workers.

So, now we bring the so-called “Liberation Day” of tariffs, and since this is a space I like to keep safe, I’m going to move on because I have nothing nice to say. What I want to focus on is not making this job American again, the rising prices of garments, or anything political, and instead I’d like to zero in on what seeing the world with a Kingdom (God’s Kingdom that is) lens has taught me so far this year.

I’d say that my eyes being opened began last year with diving deeper into Fashion Roadman’s channel, which led me to watch two documentaries – The True Cost of Fast Fashion and Perfume’s Dark Secret in 2024. The other revelations that were exposed in 2024 such as the labor practices of Armani and Dior, were very telling for how are garments are made from luxury to fast fashion. It’s no secret that the fashion industry, including luxury brands, is not concerned with the moral cost of their decisions and is solely focused on getting money in their pockets for their shareholders. So, what is going to happen within the fashion industry as a result of these tariffs set on Vietnam, especially with no sign of negotiation from the Trump Administration? I think it’s going to be bad for everyone.

I think costs from the brands will be cut from the quality of the garments being made, to the materials, to the contracts with these factories. I think garment workers will probably see the biggest hit in their work environment and wages, as their economy is hurt. Or potentially the factories will no longer get these contracts to cut labor costs, meaning the production of garments will be further entrenched with slave labor in countries where workers are exploited. Then what will those women be left with? Garment Workers are primarily women, and they are skilled laborers who could be left without a way to provide income for their families.

It’s not okay for so many reasons.

That is why, as we look towards Easter, I am thinking about those who are oppressed in our world, because Jesus came to be a new Moses and lead us through the Exodus Way. Thank you, dear reader, if you stayed with me on this one. I wish this world weren’t such a downer right now, but just know, although we are from the United States, we are not pleased and empathize with how this is affecting you too. ❤

Potato Technology’s 2024 Autumn Winter Collection

This collection was about upcycling, trying new techniques, and making things that expressed what I like wearing based on previous designs I have made, but with a twist. The items I designed were 75% sourced from existing materials. They were upcycled from items in my closet, hand-me-downs from my mom or grandparents. They were made from destashed yarn I acquired or fabric that had been in my stash for a long time. I focused more on creating with natural materials like wool, linen and as always, I love cotton.

Vests were made from pillow cases and flannels. I re-worked a sweater from the existing sweater and leftover yarn. I dyed denim, deconstructed denim, and made some interesting new shorts and skirts. I combined leftover flannel from Christmas stockings to create a plaid and denim kilt. I used the cut-off sleeves of flannels from my vest projects to create a skirt from four flannel sleeves. I dove deeper into the world of trousers with two new patterns – a floral and railroad stripe. With each pair, I experimented with fastenings and pockets. I constructed my first “Mr. Darcy” shirt from teal linen using Bernadette Banner’s instructions for the body. I put my own spin on the collar, choosing a wider collar similar to a sailor collar that is popular in anime and J-fashion.

This was the first season I experimented with colorwork in knitting. I made a knit star motif hat from yarn that was leftover from my Magic of Scrap Yarn Cardigan. I made leg warmers, a squirrel motif mitten, and a melange of acrylic and wool to create this ear flap hat that reminds me of medieval European helmets. Although this season of creation was chaotic, I’m not sure if I even included all the projects I worked on, it was a time of great learning. It taught me that fashion design is more than taking raw material and cutting it into a new form.

Great design utilizes new and old. Fashion is about reusing, not wasting, and making things beautiful with careful craftsmanship. It does not mean it needs to be expensive, or need to be made by a great master couturier, it just needs to serve a purpose. We have lost sight of the purpose of fashion, but these projects of upcycling have reminded me that fashion is more than shopping, it is more than consumption, it is about the materials, the vision, the function.

Remaking My First Sewing Project Four Years Later

Last September, I felt this aching in my creative heart to make what I didn’t make well the first go around. A project that some would say was insane to attempt as a beginner because of the difficult nature of velvet and the frustration that is sewing with stretch fabric. The dress pictured below was my first wearable garment. I saw the same purple stretch fabric on sale for Halloween at my local Joann’s and my heart skipped a beat. It still exists – I could try again!

You see the first dress I made was constructed so poorly that I ended up cutting it down into a skirt because I was embarrassed to continue wearing it out. After all, the bodice was bunching up and gathered strangely in the back. I lacked the confidence to keep going and try to alter the dress for success. I see now that it would have been an easy make to take out the gathers and bunches of fabric for clean seams, but that kind of thought came with trial and error. I needed a bit more experience and patience to make it right, and at the time in 2020, my younger self was not willing to wait.

But what if I am living in the past? My mind thought, maybe I should let it be and let the dress be a learning experience. I put the purple velvet down and left it, it was not on sale, it would be a sizeable impulse purchase at 15.99 a yard for 4 yards. I can’t justify 60 USD for a passing whim, that would be a poor use of money. So I left the daydream and moved on. Still thinking about that fabric. Another few weeks passed, finding myself in my local Joann’s again. It was my favorite place to explore. I went to the shopping plaza over the weekend where Joann’s remains live boarded up with the lights still on. It was eerie. I found myself thinking about what was blocked off inside? Was the fabric slumbering in the bolts, waiting to be made into something new? Would the yarn ever find a home in a fiber artist’s hands? It felt like a mistake, a bad dream, but it was not. It is over and now it is just a memory.

Anyway, on the second trip to Joann’s during the Halloween sales, I found my purple beloved. The bolt was still full, now marked down to 7 USD a yard. But this time I couldn’t get the project out of my mind. I’m glad I did give in to the creative urge or this project would be left without an ending. At the time, I had no idea Joann’s was going to go under. I thought I had plenty of time to remake this when in reality the window was closing. As I worked on this dress in 2025, I followed Joann’s story with frustration and weight of expectation. This remake is the final try, for this fabric I will never find again.

I made a different dress from the original and that surprised me. I believed going into the remake project that I would duplicate the same dress but with better technique. Instead, it was a project of feel. This time, I had a dress form I could drape the garment on. I had fabric clips with securely held the the slippery fabric together while on the dress form or for a quick test of fit on my own form. This time I understood proportion and where this dress would fit into my wardrobe instead of making a dress that only went with my moto jacket. I reinforced the shoulders and was thoughtful about my stitching, to make the garment strong. I added darts to pull the dress in where it was fitting baggy instead of leaving it like a velvet sack.

It became something new and I am okay with that. None of us are the same as we were years ago, we grow and evolve with every passing year. Making a dress for now, with the spirit and the fabric of my first garment, but with a new neckline and a new fit I think is an inevitability of learning and growth. I had the patience this time to try on the dress, mark what was not fitting right, and go back to work until it was correct. That was not something I was willing to do when I started, because it was all so new and confusing, but with time and practice, those new concepts became a familiar old friend. Like this tan carpet. It wasn’t until I looked at the 2020 mirror photo and the 2025 mirror photo that I saw it. The carpet in the house we bought looks just like the carpet in our apartment in Meadville. How random is that?

I have one more section of the purple velvet left over that I plan to make something with, possibly a mini dress, a blouse, or maybe a jacket. I think knowing this fabric is a relic now, makes me feel unwilling to finish this scrap project, because once it is done. I’m going to feel like my time experimenting with fabric from my first craft store is done. A chapter of my sewing life is over, and I hate saying goodbye. I’m a sentimental person. When things end, I take it hard. I dwell on the loss and muse on it. It might be unhealthy. It certainly makes life harder as a person who wants to keep things alive that are gone, it’s why I think I was drawn to study history in college.

As I keep making things, some of these projects become an archive of crafting past. What are some things in your own life that have moved from the present to part of your past? Does it surprise you to consider these things as your history instead of your current story? Thank you, reader, for joining me again down this sewing memory lane. I hope you have a wonderful day!

A New Project ft. Kyle

When my husband (Kyle) and I bought this house, we were looking for a place that would provide enough room to have a garden. We wanted it to be flat, have good sun, a little shade, and offer room to build the garden we have been planning for years. In our first apartment, we grew shamrocks and a tomato plant with varying results.

With each new place we moved the garden grew bigger. At our place in Meadville, on a steep hill of a plot of land, we bought a Green Stalk system to maximize our vertical potential. In the house before this one, we created a garden of containers utilizing totes we had from moving and five-gallon buckets. It was better but not the best it could be.

Container garden from 2022.

We craved something less plastic, more grounded. And so with 2025 spreading out before us, we have been planning a new project – an in-ground garden full of plants selected carefully, but Kyle can share more details about that in his own words.

I’m excited to read his thoughts here as a contributing writer because his passion for gardening has taught me so much in our 11 years together. As I mentioned in my very first post, this blog is a little of this and a little of that. I’m excited to share more about life beyond the yarn and the thread, it should be inspiring scenery for sketching! Which I have not done since we moved but I am craving to do once again. Here’s a snapshot of what we grew in our container garden several years ago. I hope you will join us on this adventure. 🙂

Editing My Manuscript from 2017

Yes, I finally did it. I found the manuscript and shifted through the 250+ pages to wrangle this story of years past down to a neat 187 single-spaced. It was a mental challenge to revive these characters I knew so well and remember who they were and why they were important to me. More important to me than I think I gave them credit in years past. Saoirse, Kinvara, and Biorn were characters I felt connected to because they were just as lost as I was. They had life toss them about, treading water for meaning in the dramatic family civil war they found themselves in. It mirrored life. It foreshadowed the losses I knew were to come and helped me sort out the mysteries of my own life in an imagined Viking Age Ireland full of shifting alliances and invaders.

After all this time, why now? I have two other novel ideas I want to explore yet I felt unable to write again until Udal Cuain was laid to rest. The leviathan of the past which helped me forward when I was stuck. I believe I needed creative closure. It was a manuscript without an ending. I revised and revised the story in 2018, taking it into darker waters. It became too dark for me to continue as my life was moving from darkness towards the light once again, there were things from history and Irish Celtic culture, as well as Norse culture I was unwilling to interact with anymore.

When I was first working on this project, I was steeped in historical research from my independent study about Early Medieval Ireland and fresh from watching the television show Vikings. It was a time when I was hiding behind a shell, numb from unresolved trauma that I was a shell of myself. Hidden away from my true self, masking and unhealthy. The violence of this show and the research on Irish pagan rituals were something I ignored, even though I cannot think of them without shuttering now. These were things, details I needed to remove from my own writing to find my own peace. Not to censor it but instead to be authentic to who I am. If you want to learn more, this novel will just be a stepping stone for more research because I cannot in good conscience tell a story with such evil and bring that evil to you the reader.

The bulk of my revisions were just that, removing things I no longer felt comfortable with to have the story reflect who I am now.

Being in the present, and seeing through the time how I have found peace in my personal life since writing Udal Cuain in 2017, allowed me to give it an ending. I didn’t know where to leave my characters when I was walking through a season of confusion. I see now that I had to read more of my own story before I could write their story.

Why am I sharing this novel on my blog instead of shopping it around to publish or publishing it as an E-book? I don’t know if this novel is something at this time that I am pleased with as a representation of who I am as a writer. It was a story that I needed to write for myself but not something I felt like it was a story I wanted to have out there for people to rip apart. I don’t feel ready to put it to market so I am sharing it on this blog for you the reader to read if you would like to do so.

Analyzing how I wrote the story and talking through the novel planning process has been more rewarding than seeing it as a published book. It was a process that gave me meaning then and still rewards me now for the things I learned through trying something new. When I started jotting down ideas for Udal Cuain I was a non-fiction writer, preferring essays and historical research as a medium to write, as well as a creative expression like poetry. World building? Not a thing I thought I could do, nor did I think that creating characters and crafting dialogue would be as fun as I thought. If you have an idea, go for it! You will surprise yourself by what the discipline of writing and creating will do for your mind. It’s challenging, confidence-building, and relaxing to escape into a world of your imagination. I believe you can do it!

Thank you, reader, for supporting me and viewing those Udal Cuain novel writing posts. It gave me the encouragement to go back and finish what I started many years ago.

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