I didn’t set out to become a baker.
Or a flower grower.
Or even a business owner.
For many years, I believed my work would be found through speaking, coaching, retreats, books, and helping people reconnect with themselves.
And while those experiences shaped me deeply, something unexpected happened.
I planted a garden. I baked my first loaf of sourdough. I began painting flowers instead of simply admiring them.
Somewhere between kneading dough, gathering herbs, watching zinnias bloom, and sharing bread with neighbors, I realized I wasn’t changing directions.
I was coming home.
Your creativity. Your intuition. Your humanity. Your aliveness.
And sometimes all we need is space quiet enough to hear it again.
Looking back, I can see that every season of my life has been leading here.
Teaching yoga. Leading retreats. Exploring Human Design.
Raising three incredible boys.
Painting watercolor at the dining room table. Writing late into the night. Walking woodland trails.
Learning to trust my own quiet knowing.
Each experience gently reminded me that creativity isn’t something we do.
It’s part of who we are.
The Threads That Connect My Work
Over the years, life has quietly led me back to the same simple truths.
Beauty belongs in everyday life. Nature teaches us to slow down. Creativity is part of being human. Bread tastes better when it’s shared. Flowers remind us to notice the season we’re in.
And often, the simplest moments become the ones we remember most.
Whether I’m baking bread, growing flowers, writing books, painting, or gathering with others, these threads weave through everything I create.
They’re not rules to follow. They’re simply the life I’m learning to live.
Today my work lives through many expressions of the same heart.
The Evergreen Table. Books. Watercolor. Poetry.
A Life That Lets Me Breathe.
Children’s books. Seasonal gatherings. Forest Gatherings to come.
They may look different on the surface, but they all begin with the same invitation:
Come Gather.
My husband and I are parents to three boys who continue to teach me about love, curiosity, resilience, and wonder every day.
Our family is now building The Evergreen Table together - baking bread, growing flowers, dreaming about a future beneath the trees, and creating something that reflects the life we hope to live.
I still paint at the dining room table. I collect beautiful journals. I find meaning in birds, wildflowers, music, and the changing seasons.
One day, I hope to welcome people to Forest Gatherings at The Evergreen Table.
Until then…
You’ll find me in the garden. Or in the kitchen. Or with a paintbrush in my hand.
Creating beautiful things that are meant to be shared.