I’m about to head out on a different journey. Maybe a more personal journey? Maybe it can’t get more personal than what I’ve already shared here… who knows.

Something I’ve been a bit afraid of. Maybe afraid of what it would mean. Or maybe afraid people would see straight through me. See too much of all the things I’m so uncomfortable with about myself. Maybe I would learn about more things I didn’t really like. Dig too deep into that weirdness. Or discover I’m not really that good.

But I’m hoping I’ve found myself in a different place. A place of more love and grace for myself. It still feels super uncomfortable sometimes (most of the time). 

A lot of things have helped me get there…friends who love me and tell me why they love me. That’s been big. And I finally started listening to them. I trusted them for big life advice, but I decided to start believing what they were saying about me as truth. And started paying attention to all the reasons I love them too. 

And looking at myself through the eyes of my tiny self and thinking that sweet little girl would love me. She would want to hang out with me all the time. She would want to talk about big things with me and and make things with me and listen to my music and explore and just be together. I’m glad we were able to connect across time.

It’s a weird thing to reach back to other realms to find connection with all of the persons you’ve been. Maybe it’s the same consciousness just in different phases of becoming; maybe it’s entirely different versions of that consciousness trying to become in different ways. I don’t really know, but the tiny version of me was sweet and thoughtful and curious and creative and shy, and sometimes I think she shows up when it feels safe. And she likes to hang out with me on quiet weekend afternoons when I’m doing random projects on my living room floor.

And she wanted to be an artist. And she got laughed at by an adult in school for saying that. And she wasn’t the type of little girl to be defiant and find strength in proving them wrong. She felt defeated and silly before she even really started. By a man in a tie who she didn’t even know, and literally never saw again. It’s really a weird thing how those things stay with you and echo in your brain for eternity. Anyway, fuck that old guy who came to our classroom from Junior Achievement to talk to us about careers in fourth grade. 

An older, more responsible version of that little girl felt weird not having a defined career—a rulebook to follow essentially. So architecture felt safe as a path that was both defined and creative (until the 2008 financial crisis, that is). And she fell in love with it and all the potential and possibility it held. 

But something keeps coming up around creative freedom. Architecture as a medium has some rules and boundaries. And architecture school forced those rules into my brain. Maybe I can use them too. But maybe there is something there that is unexplored. Like some spot in my brain that I can’t quite touch with where I’m at and currently headed. Like if I could just push myself out of every comfort zone, out of all of my knowing, maybe I could see what’s over there.

Fear comes up a lot. Anxiety. Fear. What if it goes…wrong?

I even wrote about it in my manifesto in graduate school. Funny how those things always come back around. Maybe it is the same consciousness…

From my manifesto:

I have many fears. 

The fear of snakes. 

The fear of darkness. 

The fear of the open sea. 

The fear of heights, or more specifically, 

The fear of falling. 

The fear of flying, 

The fear of failing. 

But of all my fears one stands out in sharp relief. The fear of creating nothingness. 

Not of never creating anything, but of never creating anything of value; of creating something that moves into the realm of insignificance to individuals, groups, society, culture. Something so far removed and disconnected from people that it would waste their energy to even carry it with them in a memory.

Yep. Still there. Not as afraid of the dark anymore (that’s a lie), but all those others are still there. 

I’m also talking to a career coach. Mostly to help me sort some things out in my head in some kind of legitimate way. To talk about things to a neutral third party who has no ties to me or what I’m doing…someone who doesn’t actually know me…yet…

Last time we met, we worked through an exercise. She asked me before our meeting to come up with an “envy list”—ten people (I only came up with about 6 or so) who I envied. And when we met we talked about why I envied them.

We went down the list. 

“Ok. So-and-so is on my list because of xyz…”

“Ok, well why can’t you have that?”

I just stared off into middle distance….

“Well…ummm…I don’t know…maybe I’m not interesting enough…”

“Why don’t you think you’re interesting enough? What makes this person interesting? And why do you think you aren’t?”

Why can’t you have that/do that/be that/etc.??

Well for fuck’s sake, I don’t really know now that I’m sitting here having to tell you. And every reason I give immediately sounds stupid as the words exit my mouth.

The exercise is meant to point out limiting beliefs about yourself. The things you believe about who you are that are holding you back. Maybe I can have that…

We did an exercise around one of the limiting beliefs.

The belief: I shouldn’t try or start something because it won’t be good. 

“What is this belief protecting you from”

“Ohhhh…failure. If I don’t try it, I won’t fail.” (See list of fears above)

“What will happen to you if you fail?”

“Oh…ummm…everyone will think I’m no good, they’ll never ask me to do anything again, I will never find creative work again, they will think everything I make and will make sucks…”

“So you’ll be alone.”

“Yep, yep, that’s it.”

“One of your values we discussed was togetherness…”

“Mhmm…yep.”

“What do you feel in your body when this happens?”

“Anxiety. Panic. Frozen. I’m frozen. My brain is frozen.”

“Ah. Remember we said your idealist temperament is always on the path? Frozen means not moving on the path.”

“….yep….yep…” I’m constantly staring off and occasionally coming back for eye contact. 

“What does this belief cost you? Like what does believing in this cost you in real time? Things that are not happening because you believe this?”

“Well I would have a stack of work I could have made. I would have an entire portfolio of work. And there are things I could have explored about myself through the work…”

“Things you could have explored about yourself… Your ultimate goal as an idealist is self-actualization…”

All of this hit me like a punch to the face. I’ve never been punched in the face, but I imagine it’s a bit surprising. And then it starts to sting. And your feelings are kinda hurt. And then perhaps an intense ache, and a pain every time you touch that spot where you got hit.

She told me this belief was created when I was a small child at some point along the way (maybe by that old man who laughed at me. Who scoffs at a fourth grader’s dream anyway?). And that part of me is trying to help, trying to keep me safe. But it doesn’t know I’m ok now. So every time that belief shows up I have to gentle-parent it and say, “yes, but there’s value in exploring.”

So. There’s value in exploring! And for the next 100 days, I’m going to be exploring! (I’m trying to be excited because apparently the feelings of excitement and fear feel the same in your body and if you can tell yourself you’re excited it can trick your brain from fear to excitement…).

I went to New York at the end of the summer to see David Byrne (he was actually on my envy list). I was walking around the MOMA with a friend talking about making things. And how I just wanted to create things. Just to get in the habit of making things. Just sit down and do it. To not worry about what it was or if it was going to be good. So we devised an artistic exploration (and we shook on it, so he’s holding me to it). See the brief below:

100 Days, 100 Pieces; Ashes

the title isn’t intended to be dramatic. but maybe it is. a yearning to kick myself out of a creative rut. simple—discover, uncover, just create.  

but layered in that is fear, judgment, fear of judgment, and a tendency to cling to everything within grasp. please. don’t let me fall.

an exploration of love and grief; creation and destruction; presence and fading; revelation and erasure; certainty and doubt. paradox. absurdity. entropy.

beginning december 26, 2025 i will explore these ideas. each day i will create one piece of art; and each day i will burn that piece of art. each piece will be posted, and then the next day deleted for that day’s piece to be posted. 100 pieces in 100 days. 

a letting go 

hold loosely. but imbue with meaning. 

just create

I’m really nervous about it all for some reason. Or anxious. And maybe a little bit excited. I’m only trying to be more intentional about practicing something that feels fundamental to who I am. And being ok sharing it. And trying to stop stressing about it so much, and just let it happen. It doesn’t have to be good because I’m going to burn it, right? Who knows where I will be at the end of 100 days! So I’m going to create. See y’all on instagram! And here too because I’m sure I’ll find something else to say…