I'm a mother to two teenagers, learning daily about love's tender fierceness. A partner discovering how to stay soft when old patterns stir. Guardian to one impossibly fluffy companion who teaches me about simple joy.

In the quiet hours, I create—my hands finding their way to art, shaping what wants to be seen. There's something sacred in this making, this gentle bridge between inner knowing and outer form.

Crossing into my forties brought unexpected grace. Where once I tried so hard to be enough, now I'm learning the art of simply being. The fixing, the proving, the endless becoming—all softening into something quieter. More true.

My days weave together the ordinary and the luminous:
Morning walks where wisdom arrives on the breeze
Kitchen conversations that unexpectedly touch the sacred
Moments with clients where the body's deep knowing emerges
The creative hours when my hands speak what words cannot

This life has taught me that healing happens in the tender places. In bodies that know their own stories. In hearts brave enough to stay open. In the beautiful messiness of being utterly, imperfectly human.

I bring all of this to my work—the mother's heart, the artist's hands, the woman's knowing. The understanding that comes from walking your own winding path home.

Because perhaps that's what we're all doing—finding our way back to ourselves, one gentle moment at a time. Im honoured your’e here x