I’m usually in the middle of something.
Roasting coffee. Tending the garden. Making films. Printing on fabric that stains my hands for days. Sewing jackets for my family that turn into heirlooms before I finish them. Rearranging a room until it feels like people could actually live there. Making things is how I stay connected to life. It keeps my hands busy and my head quiet. I don’t chase inspiration; I just keep moving until something starts to take shape. Most of the time it does. Sometimes it doesn’t. Either way, it’s time well spent. The projects change but the current stays the same. Creative energy has its own gravity. It pulls me toward work that feels real, and toward people who still care enough to make something with their own hands.
