There are words that arrive as invitations rather than plans. They do not come with strategies or timelines. They simply ask to be lived. As I step into 2026, the word given to me is “lamp”. Not a spotlight. Not a flare. Not a floodlight meant to impress or overwhelm. A lamp small enough to be tended daily. It requires attention in trimming, oil, care. It does not rush the dark away, but it does make the next step visible. Much of what will be shared here in the coming weeks

“I sit here as the fourth week of Advent begins…”

There comes a moment in the interior journey when effort gives way to trust. It is not a dramatic moment. There is no announcement. It arrives quietly and often after we have grown tired of trying to lead ourselves. This is where I find myself now, somewhere between knowing what to do and learning how to be led. In Exodus, the people are not given a map. They are given a presence. A pillar of cloud by day. A pillar of fire by night and a pillar of light inside the soul. They

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

“…faith doesn’t always arrive as certainty, sometimes it arrives as inheritance…”

I have such big plans for Studio Kre’at and so it is that I am letting December be slow and intentional allowing me to make room for what has been and what will become. And so I sit and reflect, I see how this year has taught me to rest ~ not in what I cannot do, but in what I have been given to do. To bring hope. To carry light. I invite you to sit now with me on my back lawn as the whispers of 2025 and 2026 have found me.

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

It’s the moments on waking this morning, that have me back in the journal. And after a number of days off, simply to go inwards in a deeper way ~ I know that I am not a content machine. I am a woman simply listening for light. That knowledge allows me wisdom on a grander scale and that slower rhythm wandered honours that wisdom of the vocation I have. This slower rhythm does three sacred things all at once: Protects my interior life Keeps this studio visible Prepares hear

“And so this little painting of washing on the line becomes a prayer in itself…”

There’s something about the red dirt ~ the way it holds the weight of footsteps and still manages to cradle life at its edges.