It has been three years since I first published Searching for Faerie, Finding Me through Amazon’s print-on-demand platform. At the time, simply finishing the book felt monumental. I had taken an idea that once existed only quietly in my imagination and brought it into the world in physical form. That alone felt like an accomplishment worth celebrating. But over the years, I found myself continually returning to the story as I painted on canvas. Certain lines questioned me, ce

Lately, I have felt deeply energized by Dan Koe’s encouragement to write essays — not simply to produce content, but to clarify thought itself. His call to action spurred me because it challenged the passive way many of us consume information today. We live surrounded by endless streams of fast content: quick reactions, emotionally charged headlines, recycled opinions, and algorithm-driven noise that grabs our attention. So much of it enters our minds without asking us to ref

When I first began imagining the painted Dream Edition of Searching for Faerie, Finding Me, I approached it very differently from how I do now. In the beginning, I became deeply drawn to intricate decorative patterns — swirling curls, flourishes, and delicate curliques woven into nearly every page and painting. At the time, I believed that style represented who I was artistically. I thought the work needed to look elaborate and uniquely “me.” Looking back now, I realize I was