A Return to the Art of Making & Building an ecosystem where creativity, care, and community grow together.

It started in the winter of 2024.

I was knee-deep in reflection, asking myself where I wanted to take my work as we moved toward 2025. For the first time in a long time, the answer was clear: I wanted to bring my own creative practice back to the center of my life.

I’ve identified as an artist for as long as I can remember. In high school, a teacher saw something in me and handed me permission to dream bigger. In college, I took every creative class I could… drawing, painting, sculpture, metalsmithing, fiber arts, printmaking. Creativity has always been how I understand the world and my place in it.

Somewhere along the way, I drifted. Building a studio took me down many meaningful paths, but oddly, away from the thing that started it all. I’d built a life around creativity while making very little space for my own. Part of that came from an old story many of us inherit: you can’t make a living as an artist. Maybe it was fear, maybe survival, maybe both. Either way, I decentered that part of myself for years.

Some of the very first sketches and journal pages I developed when I first began brainstorming The Creative Camp. The vision changed countless times!

Last winter I decided any future I wanted had to begin with re-centering my creativity not as a hobby, but as a way of living. It wasn’t just about making art again; it was about reclaiming what lights me up.

For over a decade, I’ve helped others bring their creative gifts to life through branding, marketing, and business development. I’ve seen the pressure to perform, the nonstop demand to produce, the noise of social media, and the juggling of roles that have nothing to do with the actual art we make. Somewhere in the middle of helping others navigate all that, I realized I craved the same things they did: more space, more honesty, more joy in the process. To keep teaching what I believed, I had to live it. So I made a promise to practice what I preach and rebuild my creative confidence from the ground up.

Some works I designed last winter while I was deeply immersed in a Moss Study. I would go hiking weekly, take photographs, and then go home and create things based on my observations. This is where I originally came up with "Field Guides". Everything I do always comes back to my relationship with nature.

That’s when the first seeds of The Creative Camp were planted. I started creating again, just for me. I filled sketchbooks and iPad pages with ideas, experimenting with digital and physical mediums. I let myself wander, start and stop, change directions. I didn’t rush it. I wanted the idea to grow roots.

The year that followed wasn’t linear. There were stretches of deep flow and others of doubt. But slowly, a vision emerged… one that blends my art, my values, and the work I love to do with others. The more I drew, the more I remembered myself. It felt like wiping fog off a mirror.

The Creative Camp is my return to self and to art, the kind of intentional creation that reminds us what matters.

A Quiet Refusal

We live in a world that doesn’t just invite us to create; it demands we create for it: for algorithms, clicks, speed, and short attention spans. Somewhere along the line, art became content.

The Creative Camp is my refusal of that.
It’s a way to say: we can make things for joy again. We can create for meaning, not metrics.

Balancing that intention with the reality of selling work hasn’t been simple. I wrestled for a long time with how to create inside a system that thrives on overconsumption. The world doesn’t need more stuff for the sake of stuff. I didn’t want to add to the noise or the waste.

Therapy and ongoing inner work have helped me notice a pattern of self-sacrifice, giving everything to others while neglecting what I needed to feel alive. This time, I wanted to do it differently: follow joy and purpose without abandoning my values. For me, art is care, resistance, and remembrance. It only holds that power when it’s made with intention. That’s why this took time. I wanted it rooted in integrity, not impulse.

To anchor the launch in generosity, I’m donating 100% of the first month’s sales to mutual aid groups supporting communities impacted by cuts to SNAP benefits. Could I use the money? Of course. We’re all feeling the pressure of late-stage capitalism. But The Creative Camp has become my antidote to the chaos, a way to respond with hope and action, not escape, and to continue the cycles that are ready to be laid to rest.

From Idea to Ecosystem

One of the hardest parts was deciding how to make things: sourcing, production, packaging, shipping. I’ve supported many clients through this exact path, but doing it for myself forced me to confront what it means to create ethically in a system not designed for slowness or care.

I knew I didn’t want to start by shipping from home again; I’ve done that, and it drained me. At the same time, I wasn’t willing to sacrifice quality or values for convenience. I researched for months, tested materials, ordered samples from multiple vendors, and weighed sustainability, accessibility, and ease.

For launch, I chose print-on-demand. It reduces waste (no bulk inventory), solves shipping, and still lets me curate the experience. Is it perfect? No. But it’s a strong beginning that gives me room to experiment… seasonal drops, different materials, feedback loops, refinement over time, without getting trapped in perfectionism.

The more I tested, the clearer it became: this isn’t the “norm.” Most systems reward speed, scale, and convenience. I’ve had to accept that I can’t do everything I want on day one. Some dreams will arrive in later phases, and that’s okay. This is a process, not a sprint. I don’t need to have it all figured out to start.

As the Camp grows, I plan to shift more production to local printing partners in the PNW and to create limited runs from my home studio (hello, linocut and small-batch prints). I’m not rushing to scale. I’m letting the ecosystem evolve at a natural pace.

What We’re Building Together

The Creative Camp isn’t here to teach you how to make and sell more things. It’s an invitation to imagine differently, to think beyond frameworks that keep us small, busy, and disconnected.

Our systems and social constructs are cracking. The question is: What comes after? What could we build if imagination, care, and community led the way?

That’s what I want to explore here: new futures and ways of being… new rhythms of working, relating, and thriving that center people, planet, and possibility. This isn’t about defining our worth by output. It’s about remembering we are part of a larger web of life, each with a role, responsibility, and gift to offer. When we take care of each other, we take care of ourselves, and vice versa. Creativity is one way we practice that truth.

At its core, The Creative Camp is a place to gather, play, and practice together. Not just a shop, a creative hub. An ecosystem where art, design, imagination, and community intertwine. A living space for exploration, not perfection.

It’s a home for the explorer archetype… curious, experimental, imperfect by design. Creative liberation isn’t only about what we make with our hands; it’s about what we unlearn and rebuild within ourselves.

Here, we’ll unpack the forces that commodify our creativity and imagine alternatives rooted in reciprocity and care. Over time, the Camp will grow beyond products into workshops, immersive practice spaces, and educational resources. I’ll bring together what I know from years of branding and community-centered marketing with my love of artistry, imagination, and sustainability… to help liberate fellow creatives from the grind and build lives guided by values, not velocity.

Because what we create matters. What we give (our art, labor, care, and ideas) has real value. I want this to be a place where that truth is remembered and celebrated.

No empires. No “self-made” myths.
Just ecosystems, webs of connection and co-creation where we uplift one another, share resources, and build a culture of support, not scarcity.

The Creative Camp is still taking shape, and I’d love your input on where it grows next. What would you love to explore, make, or experience together inside this space?