Petals, Pink & Sparkle

For a long time, I was in motion—working, mothering, caring, tending to the needs of those I loved. As life grew calmer, with fewer outward demands, my interests began to blossom again—familiar favorites and everyday delights that felt unmistakably mine. Flowers were among them. A rose asks nothing of me except that I stop long enough to notice it.

The way a rose unfolds, expands, and blooms fills me with awe. Its velvety petals, vivid color, and delicate fragrance feel like gifts from the earth itself. Even its aroma feels like gentle medicine. A floral display elevates the essence of a room and changes its ambiance. There is peace in admiring the arrangement without asking the moment to become anything more.

My first tattoo at eighteen was a fuchsia rose. Today, I take pretty pink rose and peony pages from a flower book, cut tiny blossoms, and layer gems, stickers, and glitter until a flat page feels alive. The colors stir my senses; the petals look so lush, it is almost as though their elegant fragrance could rise right off the page. A few find their place in frames around my bedroom; others become gifts for people who have cared for us. Giving once felt like an obligation; now it flows from the pleasure of sharing something pursued with passion.

The book I am living began with a small realization: this flower, this scent, this moment counts too. The seemingly ordinary becomes special when I let myself behold it. Such splendor does not have to wait for another life.

In Honing In to Home, I wrote from a season of nurturing my children and discovering what our everyday routines could teach us. In Stillness, Solitude, and Silence, that same attentive heart is learning to receive beauty too. The flower I once arranged to greet family and friends now invites me to linger in the home I cherish. My transformation has room for both the love I give and the joy I allow myself.

My desire for the reader here is to feel drawn into showing up for life—to meet the day with curiosity and an open heart. To notice the majestic meeting you in each moment—a flower unfolding, sunlight spilling across a floor, something lovingly crafted by hand. That is the heart behind my art and hearth: space at a slower pace, a warm welcome, and permission to simply be. What we focus on grows. May our attention rest on the wonder already within reach.