i like pretty things.
i find them useful.
i like what they do.
the way a single object can shift a room.
the way ritual can reclaim your day.
the way a perfectly fit garment can change your stride.
the wink of nostalgia woven into your spaces as a curated inside joke.
the way art - when it’s personal, when it’s placed with intention - can anchor you in the middle of a storm.
when everything’s out of control, i don’t find power in reinvention. i find it in ritual. in small, sacred choices. in practices. in beauty i created for myself, even when everything else felt out of reach.
design, for me, isn’t surface-level. It’s survival.
ritual isn’t routine - it’s resistance.
and art? Art is how I put the pieces back together.
aesthetics are overrated.
but feeling?
you truest, individual, sensorial journey?
it’s about how you choose to show up - in your skin, in your space, in your story.
and yes, it gets to be beautiful.
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