Nesting Into Inspiration

This month has been a season of settling in, creating, and reconnecting with my practice. I’ve been nesting in my studio, opening long-forgotten boxes, sorting materials, and rediscovering treasures that feel like gifts waiting to be transformed. There’s something grounding about this process of organizing and making space; each thread, each object, reminds me of where I’ve been and what’s possible.

Hurricane season has brought its own rhythm. The rains return, streams carve their paths through the property, uncovering shards of pottery and even revealing waterfalls. We’ve been clearing walking paths to open up the waterfall that flows between our home and the residency property, a reminder of how nature constantly reshapes and uncovers what is hidden.

I’ve been cutting back invasive vines, and soon their fibers will find their way into my work. I’ve also been upcycling rope, fabric, and leftover yarn into the beginnings of new projects that are slowly, patiently coming together. When the power goes out and I’m forced to shelter in place, I take it as an invitation to slow down, to listen, and to let the work unfold at its own pace.

In this season, I’m learning again that inspiration isn’t something to chase. It emerges naturally, like streams after the rain, if I make space, clear the path, and let it flow.

January: Setting Intentions for a Creative Year

As the new year begins, I’m embracing the opportunity to focus on my creative practice and nurture meaningful projects here in the rainforest. This year feels like a chance to grow, not just as an artist but also as someone committed to honoring cultural heritage and community through my work.

I’ve started by grounding myself in clear intentions, aligning my daily routine with my long-term vision for Sky Garden STX. Each morning, I take time to reflect, write, and plan, ensuring that my efforts stay purposeful. Whether I’m in the studio, collaborating with others, or tending to the Provision Ground ruins, every action connects back to what I hope to achieve.

What helps me most is breaking down big ideas into small, actionable steps. For example, I’ve mapped out time to explore new techniques and complete works, while also dedicating space for developing my property to host artist residents and community workshops. By focusing on what I can do each day, I feel less overwhelmed and more connected to my goals.

This month, I’ve been reminded of the importance of patience and adaptability. Progress doesn’t always look the way we imagine, but it’s the consistency in showing up for our craft that makes the difference. For me, even small victories—a finished piece, a moment of inspiration, a new flower bud, or a thoughtful conversation—are worth celebrating.

As I move forward, I’m committed to taking intentional steps and letting the process unfold naturally, in it’s own time. I hope this inspires you to reflect on what’s meaningful to you this year and to take those first steps toward your own vision.