This week on the blog I’m reflecting on what it means to run a small business in a small seasonal community for twenty-five years, inspired by the opening of the 25th season of New Era Gallery and my friend Elaine Crossman. The piece explores the rhythms of island business life, the invisible labor behind creative work, and how places like galleries, studios, and small shops slowly become woven into the emotional landscape of a community. If you’ve ever wondered what it really takes to continue creating and showing up year after year in a place shaped by both beauty and uncertainty, I’d love for you to read the full piece.

This past Friday - it was all I could do to stay inside- so I didn’t and rather than dutifullly checking off the items on my ever present to do list - I puttered - moving from task to task as I was drawn to them. And it was the perfect day to put on the screen doors. By the end of the afternoon the house had shifted, more air moving through it, more light, that subtle seasonal exhale. And now, every time I walk in, the screen swings shut behind me with that sharp, familiar crack, and without any warning at all, I’m gone.

Choosing jewelry doesn’t have to feel complicated.

Over the years, I’ve watched people try on piece after piece, searching for something that feels right—and I’ve come to believe it’s less about getting it perfect and more about paying attention.

In this new post, I’m sharing a few simple ways to choose jewelry you’ll actually wear, along with a gentle approach to picking something meaningful for someone else.

Living on a small island doesn’t mean living in a small world. News, change, and the weight of global events reach us here just like anywhere else. But the rhythms of island life—tides, seasons, animals, gardens—offer a kind of perspective.

Last Saturday my mom and I spent the afternoon learning to make dumplings from scratch with Ger Liang Tysk of Red Kettle Kimchi through Partners in Island Education. Dough, filling, pleats, and plenty of laughter filled the room.