Have you ever had one of those days where everything feels a little wobbly? That’s what my new book is all about — Murmle’s gentle story of anxiety, calm, and finding your balance again.

Every artist needs a little cozy companionship. Meet Lucifer, my Studio Cat, who reminds me daily to slow down, play, and rest. His quiet presence brings calm and comfort to my creative space — and teaches me the art of balance, one purr at a time."

I grew up in a creative home where art was part of everyday life. Over time, busyness pushed it aside — but returning to small, playful moments of making has reminded me why creativity matters so much.

My creativity doesn’t fit into a 9–5 box — and maybe yours doesn’t either. Here’s how I’ve learned to listen to my own rhythms, embrace breaks, and find flow in a way that actually works for me.

Colouring isn’t just a hobby — it can be a gentle way to unwind and reconnect with yourself. In Mindful Mandalas, I’ve drawn inspiration from the patterns we find in nature, like spirals in sunflowers and the symmetry of daisy petals, to create calming designs that invite creativity and mindfulness.

I’m so happy to share the very first story in my Whimblewick Tales series — Lodelump and the Heavy Day.
This series is all about gently opening up conversations with children about big feelings, mental health, and neurodivergence, while giving them practical tools to help self-regulate. In this first story, Lodelump, the island librarian, is having a “heavy day.” With the help of Thistlewhim, the island’s caretaker, he finds a little light again — without anyone trying to “fix” him. It’s a warm, comforting read for parents, carers, teachers, and therapists who want to help children feel seen, validated, and understood.

My art started as a way to soothe myself — now I hope it soothes others too. In this post, I reflect on how creating with care and softness helps me stay grounded, and why quiet, validating art can be a powerful act of self-compassion.

Creativity isn’t just about making things — it’s about making space. Especially on low-energy or emotionally heavy days, creative work becomes a gentle form of care, reflection, and expression. In this post, I share how my process has shifted with chronic illness, and why slowing down and focusing on the meaning behind the making has changed everything for me.

Even though I can’t explore wildflower paths the way I used to, nature still plays a huge role in my daily life and creative work. In this post, I share the gentle, accessible ways I stay connected to the outdoors — from birdwatching at my window to weaving nature into my art and storytelling. A reminder that our relationship with nature can evolve, but it’s always there for us — in new, softer ways.

A gentle look at how creativity can become a grounding, mindful ritual. From lighting a wax melt to doodling in bed, I share how small intentional practices help me reconnect—and invite you to reflect on your own creative rhythms.

I’ve always wanted to create books that feel cosy, calm, and relatable. One thing I’ve noticed is that there aren’t many children’s books out there that gently validate difficult feelings while offering simple tools for self-regulation. That’s what inspired my new series, featuring Thistlewhim — a forest gnome who helps woodland creatures navigate big emotions with kindness and care.

When life feels overwhelming, creative routines can be a lifeline. This post explores how small, soothing acts of creativity can help us feel more grounded.

Small acts of creativity—like doodling, journaling, or knitting—can gently support your mental wellbeing. Here’s how I’ve built a flexible, soothing creative routine around my energy and needs.

When illness took away my "normal" job, I began to doubt my worth. Creativity gave me a way back—to purpose, calm, and connection.

Small creative rituals—like doodling, colouring, or even brewing a cuppa—can become moments of calm that ground us and shift our mood. Here's how I’ve been using everyday creativity to reconnect with myself, especially on hard days.

When I was diagnosed with POTS, I turned to art to process what words couldn’t.

This collection of awareness designs was born from real experiences — gentle, validating, and honest.

It’s for anyone navigating invisible illness, and everyone who wants to better understand it.

Threads of Thought began as a set of 12 illustrations for a calendar, each one inspired by quotes from female authors in the public domain. These quotes are ones I personally return to — reminders to slow down, breathe, and take care of my wellbeing.