I had written something really soul-felt for this page, went to bed, and the next day opened the site on another laptop, wondered why I couldn't see what I wrote the night before. Realized the autosave was off and I just edited over what I wrote and I could no longer resurrect that rare wave of words (after not having written along the vein of my heart for so very, very long) and I was SO HAPPY with them and then I was just SAD ALL OVER AGAIN.

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So let me try, again.

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This is a space for a late-blooming, neurodivergent, old soul. Here I weave together what are most important for me: my art, my writings, the cat rescues, mental health, chasing peace with all my selves, slow living, saving the earth, making a difference.

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But also important is that in these pages I practice and document to feed and nurture my faith in life, love, and magic. Magic of the every day and magic of the supernatural. Authentic love over obligatory love. Life for all that is good and true.

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This isn't a polished and perfectly curated portfolio, nor is it a strategized brand. It's more like a clearing in the woods. A wild little space where you are welcome to pause and slow down. Wander, explore, linger, rest, reflect.

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Welcome to the Impossible Garden. It is impossible yet it is real, and it exists. To find it and to enter it, you have to believe.

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Take your time. Stay a while.