Monday - Foundational Blog Post

Dear friends, This letter brings forward how strength finds different ways of letting life move onwards and so here, there is a kind of strength that does not announce itself. It does not strive for attention. It does not measure itself against others. It does not rush. It simply remains. I have been thinking often about the women who came before me. Women who lived full and demanding lives. Who carried families, homes, grief, responsibility and often without language for the

Hi friends If you’ve wandered with me in these letters, you may have noticed something very interesting happening in the arc of the series now: Listening Rest Regulation Faith Structure And so this letter is an important threshold where I attempt to gently meet fear and untangle it. —————————— There is a quiet fear that often rises when we begin to honour the body. If I slow down ~ am I giving up? It is not always spoken aloud. But it lingers. Especially for those of us who h

Dear friends and followers, There comes a moment when listening to the body begins to change the shape of life itself. Not dramatically. Not overnight. But quietly, through a series of small decisions. In earlier years I often built my days around expectation and what needed to be finished, what others required, what productivity seemed to demand. My body simply followed along as best it could. But living with complex health eventually asks a different question: What if life

Dear friends, I open this weeks letter to you on how a particular kind of tiredness reshapes our faith. Not the end of the day kind that sleep easily restores. But the deeper fatigue that settles into the body when health becomes complex and energy unpredictable. In seasons like this, faith changes its posture. It becomes quieter. Less about certainty. More about presence. For many years my prayer life looked structured and strong. Morning prayers, evening prayers, long stret

Dear friends, Letter One was listening. Letter Two was honouring through rest. Letter Three is participating in restoration and so I begin; There was a time when I believed my art was something extra. A gift. A calling. A beautiful addition to an already full life. I no longer see it that way. In recent conversations with my specialists, something unexpected happened. As I described my daily rhythms of painting, journaling, structured quiet, prayer woven through brushstrokes,

Today’s words come from that quiet space within us all. A place where the noise of the world softens, and the heart begins to listen. It is here, in this gentle stillness, that mindfulness takes root. Mindfulness is not just a practice; it is a path. A path that leads us through the shadows of pain and hardship toward the light of personal growth. When life feels heavy, when suffering seems endless, mindfulness offers a way to breathe, to be present, and to heal. It invites u

Truly I tell you, that letting myself discern and learn more about the creative processes regarding self portraits ~ I am working how to see myself, and so it is that portraiture is teaching me how to see the world. And so it is that I am diving deeper into the lives and histories of others. That prayer I shared led me deep into the soul of portraiture. If self portraits are a way of learning how to see myself truthfully, then portraiture is how I learn to see others with th

Self portraits open me up to moments when I can see myself as who I truly am. Not as I am perceived. Not as I am performing. But as I am ~ present, breathing, becoming. There is something disarming about turning the gaze inward and outward at the same time. To sit with my own form, whether sketched in graphite or caught mid-movement by a camera, asks me to pause long enough to notice what is actually here. The slope of a shoulder. Hands resting without urgency. A body that h

“I have learned that seeing differently is not a flaw. It is a way of attending. A way of listening. A way of…”

This year is the first birthday of my dear Auntie Raie since she passed from this world. She was my mother’s oldest sister. My godmother. The woman whose name I was given and therefore, in so many ways, the woman who stood quietly at the beginning of my own story. Every year on this day, without fail, I would ring her to wish her a happy birthday. It became a ritual of sorts ~ ordinary, faithful, never questioned. This year, the call lives only in memory, and I find myself sp

Last night, I had words ready to be shared. And then the world shifted. In Sydney, a Jewish community gathered to light the first candle of Chanukah, a festival born from the refusal to let darkness have the final word. And instead of safety, they were met with devastation. I have paused my scheduled posts, because some things ask us to stop speaking on schedule and start speaking from the heart. I am shaken. And I am holding close the Jewish community here, and everywhere wh

There is a kind of rest that comes only after we stop trying to deserve it. This week, as I linger in the early rooms of The Interior Castle, I am becoming more aware of how deeply I am trained to strive, even in prayer. Especially in prayer. I notice how quickly my soul wants to bring something with it. Words. Effort. Insight. Proof of progress. And yet, Saint Teresa speaks of these first rooms not as places of achievement, but of awakening. The soul is not yet flooded with

“Lately, I have not grown louder. I have grown quieter…”

I have found that mindful journaling practices can be a tender bridge to that inner sanctuary. Through the delicate dance of words…”

To build emotional resilience in art is to find a way through the storm, a way to manage. heal, grow and even transform.

Healing isn’t a straight road. It’s a gradual walk along long and winding ways, where each bend reveals only a little more of what lies ahea

“Drawing as prayer allows me to express worries, desires, and gratitude to God — transforming the creative process into a sacred…”

“My studio floor is a wild tangle of brushes, paint tubes, scraps of paper, and broken pastels. To anyone else, it might look like disorder”

In a world obsessed with perfection, showing up imperfectly but faithfully and mindfully has been a powerful shift. Over the last 100...