The Journal
A quiet corner of the internet. No noise, just small moments and reflections, written with care. This is my version of social media—slowed down and stripped back.
Here, I share fragments from everyday life. Some tender. Some raw. All real.
They called me “Bhaaloo”
They called me “Bhaaloo” (bear) because the hair on my legs poked through my school socks.
The Bloomer Pooper
When I was six, I sat in first grade with soiled bloomers, refusing the school bathrooms that terrified me.
A Day in My Studio
I’m grateful for the privilege of using my creativity not just to make art, but to make connections.
Give Thanks, Often
She didn’t know what to make of it at first. Just a small watercolor token, handed across the counter during the weekend rush at the boba shop.
It Doesn’t Take Much
15 minutes, washi tape, colored pencils, acrylic inks—and this little token of appreciation came to be.
A Family of Four
This isn’t just a photo. It’s a moment in time that captures the simple, the mundane, the ordinary, woven together into one extraordinary, imperfect life.
That Liminal Space
Even the word waitpool carries a strange weight—like being held in suspension, a not-here, not-there kind of place. A place where you’re told you’re worthy but not enough to be chosen. Yet.
Love Yourself First
This is how I spent my afternoon, lost in the gentle scratch of colored pencils, watching hearts and patterns emerge on paper.
Visiting an Osteopath
Have you ever had an experience like this with someone deeply spiritual in the garb of an osteopath?
A Little Token of Thanks
Picked up lunch today from a Nepalese place we like and gave them this handpainted token of appreciation. Their beaming eyes and smiles will stay with me awhile.
Rejecting the Hustle
This wasn’t a promotional conversation. It was a real one. About presence. Kindness. And making something that outlives the metrics.