My Father died - June 3rd 2026 a week before my birthday and I buried him on the end of my birthday week.
And with his passing, the desire to grow this creative space, build an audience or chase the idea of success became the very last thing on my mind. In many ways, it still is.
Grief has a way of changing your perspective. It strips away the noise and forces you to question what truly matters, what holds meaning and, perhaps most importantly, what you want to leave behind.
Yet I still believe in the importance of this creative journey. Not because I want to build an empire, accumulate followers or convince people to buy into something they don’t need, but because I believe creativity has the power to help people recognise, accept and celebrate who they truly are.
We live in a world increasingly consumed by ego, materialism and the relentless pursuit of validation. A world where entire industries thrive by convincing us that we are somehow inadequate, only to sell us the very things they claim will make us whole.
I have no desire to contribute to that noise.
And here is something you rarely hear from someone trying to establish a creative brand: My intention has never been to appeal to everyone.
I want to create limited, meaningful pieces that reflect where I find myself emotionally, mentally and spiritually at a particular moment in my life. Pieces that carry something of my experiences, my questions, my struggles and my growth.
Some may resonate with you. Others may not. That is the beauty of authentic expression.
What I hope to cultivate is not simply a customer base or a following, but a community of like-minded souls. People who recognise that our worth is not determined by what we own, how we look or how loudly we announce our achievements to the world.
People who understand that there is beauty in individuality, strength in vulnerability and something profoundly liberating about being comfortable in your own skin.
I am not interested in creating things simply to sell them. I am interested in creating things that mean something.
And if, along the way, a community forms around this little world I am building, then perhaps something far more valuable than commercial success will have emerged.
Something genuine.
Something human.
Something spiritually wealthy