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Last week I wrote about how ridiculously busy things have been in the studio, and how it was probably time to stop coming up with new ideas. Well, that was an epic fail. Except this isn’t a new idea at all. It’s an old one that finally seems to have found its time. I’ve wanted to create my own planner for years. For some reason, though, it always seemed a little daunting. Maybe there was something about creating something meant to carry someone through 365 days that made it f

Last week I wrote about the slow slide into the next season. Apparently my studio didn’t get the memo because this week has been the exact opposite. I’m getting ready for the Studio Tour, which means my brain has decided that sleeping is optional and every new idea must be acted upon immediately. I’ve been ordering stock, some to fill in the blanks and some completely new. Projects I’ve been working on are coming together, and things I ordered weeks ago are arriving in the ma

There are certain signs that summer is coming to an end when you live on an island. The ferry lineups start getting shorter. The Sunday market wraps up this weekend for another year, and the Saturday market begins to get a little quieter. Almost without noticing, the whole pace of the island begins to slow. September always feels like a bit of an in-between month. Summer isn’t quite over, although the darker days we’ve been having lately seem determined to convince me otherwi

Teachers come in all shapes and sizes. This particular one happened to be ten years old. She reminded me of something I already knew, but clearly needed reminding. Sometimes all it takes is a little reframing to take the power out of something meant to hurt us, and hopefully have a little fun in the process. Which brings me to the ten-year-old girl standing at my market table looking through all the things with the word bitch on them. I gently pointed out that there were some

I’ve always considered myself an introvert. Being an introvert doesn’t mean you’re shy, quiet, socially awkward or unwilling to speak up. Some of us will happily talk your ear off. We just eventually reach a point where we’re done peopling and would very much like everyone to stop talking now. And being an extrovert doesn’t necessarily mean you’re the one dancing on the table at the party. In the simplest terms, introverts tend to recharge by spending time alone, while extrov

When I make a card, I imagine who might be receiving it. Sometimes I’m right, and sometimes not so much. One of my favourite things about making cards is watching people choose them. There’s an intention to it that I love. Someone picks one up and you can almost see the moment when it connects with a particular person. “Oh, this is perfect. I know exactly who would get this one.” Or sometimes it’s a group of friends standing there, and one person picks up a card and starts la

For some time now, I’ve been finding dimes. It’s been often enough that I finally got curious and looked it up. What I found immediately made me think of my dad. I discovered that finding a dime can be a message from someone who has passed on, letting you know you’re on the right path, encouraging you to keep going, or simply reminding you of someone you love. Either that, or it’s my dad from beyond trying to help me build a retirement fund, one dime at a time. 😳 Whatever th

This morning I opened a cupboard and burst out laughing. I had absolutely no idea how many bee mugs I owned. This made me look around the studio. Bee magnets, bee tea towels, bee ornaments, bee ribbon, bee mugs, bees everywhere. Somewhere along the way, my friends and family apparently decided that if something had a bee on it, it belonged to me. I have to say, they’ve done an excellent job. Nicknames are funny things. Some disappear, some last a lifetime. Mine is Bee and it

When I signed up for my first Gabriola Market back in 2015, I thought I knew exactly what I was getting into. Selling jewellery? Yep. Early mornings? Sure. Rain? Occasionally. Meeting people I’d still look forward to seeing twelve summers later? Nope, didn’t see that one coming. It’s funny the things you remember. I couldn’t tell you what was on my table back in 2015, but I can still picture so many of the people I’ve met along the way. It’s funny how they stay with you. One

So this is a little embarrassing. I design stickers. I sell stickers. People happily buy my stickers. You’d think I’d be happily sticking them on everything I own. Nope. In my world, putting a sticker on something is a commitment. Once you peel off the backing, there’s no going back. I know this because one of my stickers has been on my water bottle for three years and still looks brand new, which unfortunately proves my point. So here’s what I do instead. When I find a stick

I’d like to introduce you to my friend Maxx. We’ve known each other for years, and I love Maxx’s artwork. If you met them and tried to imagine what their artwork looked like, I suspect you’d be in for a surprise. Their work is filled with every colour of the rainbow, along with curiosity, delight and joy. Some pieces make me stop and smile, while others make me stop and spend a little bit more time with them. One of the things I’ve always enjoyed about Maxx is the delight the

Every night I have the same plan. Tonight I’ll go to bed early. It’s a lovely plan. I’ve had it many, many times. Somewhere between turning off the lights and actually getting into bed, something curious happens. A question I’ve been meaning to look up all day suddenly feels urgent, a project I’ve barely thought about since breakfast absolutely can’t wait until tomorrow, and one idea somehow turns into twelve. Bedtime just seems to convince our brains they all need attention

A few weeks ago, at the market, a young girl picked out one of my stickers. When she brought it over to pay, she spotted one of my hand-painted hearts. Without hesitation, she picked it up and asked, “Can I have this instead?” The sticker was $5, the heart was $20, her spending money for the day. Being the practical adult in the situation, I pointed that out. She looked at the heart again and said, “I want this.” That was it. No deliberation or comparison. No worrying about

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