Where have you been???

I want to start by saying thank you. Truly.To everyone who reached out, checked in, or whispered a quiet “Hey, you good?” during my season of silence… your kindness meant more than you know.

I didn’t disappear out of nowhere. I stepped back because I was trying to hold myself together. Mentally, physically, emotionally. And I didn’t have the energy to explain the avalanche I was standing under. These past two to three years have been… a lot. Heavy in ways I didn’t expect. Stretching in ways I didn’t ask for. Transformative in ways I still don’t fully have words for.

Let me take you back a bit.

Around December 2023, I moved from my private studio in the Rockefeller building—this beautiful little space I remodeled—to 78th Street Studios. The move was supposed to be smooth. Planned. Thought-out. But life had other plans. I had a Daddy-Daughter show on the horizon with my father that January, and instead of a peaceful transition, everything hit at once.

The move ended up being late and rushed. There was a building-wide show happening the day after I moved in, so imagine me prepping for a major holiday market, cramming a grand opening, prepping for the Daddy-Daughter show, and trying to be in two places at once. And then the sublet I had set up for my old studio after I intitially moved fell apart. Completely. Which meant I suddenly had to shut that down too—while also closing an online eBay store my husband and I had been running. That left us with mountains of inventory that I dragged into the new space and sold off in person just to clear some breathing room.

Those first four months of the year felt like running a marathon with no finish line in sight.

Just when I thought I was getting my footing back… my husband got a job opportunity that required us to move out of state. Now, I love that man, but I had to sit with that news for a while. I had worked so hard to get into 78th Street Studios. I was taking art business classes. I had help lined up. My numbers were climbing. My vision was expanding. I could finally see the version of the business I had dreamed of.

And then—bam. We were moving.

The actual move happened mid-year. We relocated to North Carolina, quietly, because honestly, I was still processing it myself. I was flying back and forth between Ohio and NC so often, it barely felt like I had left Ohio at all.

After the holidays, early this year, I thought, Okay. Maybe now I can breathe. Maybe now I can settle.I didn’t realize how much my body had been living in fight-or-flight. Constant motion. Constant transition. Constant uncertainty.

I set up a new workspace in NC. Planned a full lineup of markets in both states. I was ready to build again.

And then it happened…My husband impregnated me lol.

Business became an afterthought overnight.

The first trimester hit me hard—not physically (besides the fatigue) but mentally and emotionally. I lost nearly all my momentum. I struggled with what may have been depression. And the anxiety… the anxiety was real. I had experienced traumatic pregnancy losses in the past, and that fear followed me everywhere.

Some days I felt strong and had faith. Other days, I felt completely undone. I kept doing markets early on, but I didn’t share the pregnancy publicly. Only a handful of people knew. One day, I hit a breaking point. I was overwhelmed, scared, and I cried out to God—from the depths of my soul—for reassurance.

That night, I had a dream. I was getting an ultrasound. The image on the screen was further along than I was at the time. And a woman, a doctor, looked at me and said, “See? I told you everything is going to be okay.”

I woke up with a peace I hadn't felt in quite some time. It felt like God gave me a hug. Then granted me what I took as a gift after that of incubating a child that CONSTANLTY moved so I never had a doubt baby was well. Even nurses were taken back by how much movement she had throughout the entire pregnancy.

As I entered my third trimester, we had to move again—our apartment was too small for us, the baby, and the family who would come to help. My parents drove down. And to add sausage to gravy, I also had to officially shut down my 78th Street Studios space and move out… at the same time we were moving into our new home in North Carolina. I cried so hard letting that space go.

I have never moved so much in such a short time in my entire life. My body had been in fight or flight for what felt like years.

But finally, finally, after that last move… I felt settled. Our new place felt like home.

And then, on October 25th, 2025, we welcomed our sweet baby girl.The day my heart grew legs.

Life still feels surreal. Beautifully surreal.

This barley scrapes the surface of so detailed many wins and losses. Only a couple facests of a much deeper story.

To everyone who congratulated us—thank you.To everyone who checked in when I went quiet—thank you.To everyone who has held space for me, supported me, waited for me, and loved me through this journey—thank you.

I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.

And now… I’m here. Different. Softer. Stronger.And ready to share again.