When Finished Isn’t Really Finished: Returning to Faerie

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, certain emotions felt like they could be expressed more honestly, certain expressions could be with greater depth as I feel it. Some scenes deserved more softness, while some illustrations no longer fully reflected the atmosphere I had originally envisioned.

At first, I thought perhaps I simply needed to let it go. After all, isn’t finishing supposed to mean moving on? Publish, then release. Close the chapter and begin another project. That is how I once imagined creativity worked — as a series of completed milestones with clean endings. Yet Searching for Faerie, Finding Me never truly left me because I started to paint it where I had no limitation at all, the way digital illustration limited me to the available elements. Over time, as I continued to paint, I began to realize that the book itself had not stopped growing because I had not stopped growing. The person revisiting the story three years later was no longer the same person who first published it. Experience changes perspective. Time reshapes understanding. Compounded loss reveals emotions that once went unnoticed. 

And so, the second edition of Searching for Faerie, Finding Me slowly began taking shape, not because the first edition was ugly, but because growth changes the creator too. The revisions became less about correcting mistakes and more about honoring evolution. I wanted the story to feel closer to what I had always imagined in my heart — more refined, more intentional, and more aligned with the emotions that inspired it in the first place. Emotions that I was masking slightly as I didn't want to be a drama queen. Now, I want to be more organic, honoring the emotions as they are and not labeling it as something else. Sadness is sadness, not depression. Yearning is simply a search for something, not desperation, not torture, not starvation. Just sadness. Just yearning.

What surprises me most is realizing that creativity is not always linear. Sometimes what we call “finished” is really just the beginning of understanding what we were trying to say all along. A project can continue quietly evolving beneath the surface long after the world assumes it is complete.Today, I begin the final review of the second edition draft, a part of me still wonders if I should somehow be further along by now, another part feels deeply grateful that I continued returning to the work instead of abandoning it, and another part celebrates that despite full-time work that feeds my career drive - I celebrate this amazing juggling feat! Because perhaps the most meaningful creative journeys are not the ones completed quickly and cleanly, but the ones we revisit with greater honesty, clarity, and courage as we ourselves continue to change. Very much like Searching for Faerie, Finding Me. 

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