It all started a crocheted pair of titties and some gooey butter cake and a dream. How’s that for an opening line? This week I’ve been working at my shop, yes, my shop. It all feels so stunningly unreal. I’ve had my crochet and knitted creations in a vendor mall for a few years now, all the while dreaming and manifesting a place I can call my own. When in St. Louis for a family function, I was sitting there, talking to my aunties about the possibility of one day owning a shop, when a message appeared in my inbox on Facebook, telling me that a very coveted and cheap space was about to be available. I was, of course, at that moment, financially completely unprepared. However, I couldn’t get that feeling out of my soul. My heart kept fluttering, my brain kept buzzing, and I kept designing that space a million different ways to fit my vision. Chad and I talked about it and decided that if we could possibly make it happen, then we absolutely should. I contacted that landlord ...
This post was written last year just after Mother’s Day. So this is not a rendering of current events. I got very sick last year and stopped creating and writing and pretty much doing anything but trying to survive. we are now one year later and thriving… Peace be with you and thanks for reading about my trauma healing journey and my art. 8 years ago I envisioned myself on a beautiful homestead, perfectly manicured with a garden that is the envy of every home and gardens subscriber with witch of the Wild West dreams. I saw myself dancing in a long wrap skirt around my fire pit ,communing with friends, long wild hair down my back,( and of course a killer body, because why not) we can have whatever we want in our dreams. I think it’s safe to say, we are a bit behind schedule. Though I’ve had glittering moments of all of those dreams sprinkled among the perceived failures it still feels so defeating sometimes to feel that nothing is working out how I dreamed i...