Navigating Change
Some of you may have noticed that I’ve been MIA for a few months.
I have been (and will be for a while yet) navigating separation from my husband of 18 years, my partner in life for 25. It’s an amicable split, but not easy. There has been anger and sadness and relief and bitterness and excitement. There has been worry about how my children are going to weather this storm, how I will cope, how he will cope. I’ve spent a lot of time wondering who I am when I’m not partnered with him.
I like to be authentic on social media, or as authentic as little snapshots of my life and work can be in this crowded and chaotic online world, so it became easier to retreat and work through these private matters in private. I have also been struggling with the loss of my artistic mojo and coping with the busyness that this kind of situation demands with a myriad of ‘sorting out’ tasks to do.
One of those tasks was moving house, which meant packing up and moving my quilting studio too. There will be another move in my future as well, because where I am now won’t be my forever home. It’s hard to feel settled when you know you’ll be moving on again.
And that unsettled feeling has followed me into the studio too…
Being in my studio feels like a real luxury right now. There is a to-do list a mile long, renovations to complete, a garden to tame on my own, and lawyers and agreements to navigate. Maybe I even carry a little guilt about prioritising art as part of my healing.
But I want to work myself back into finding joy in creating. I don’t want this season of my life to rob me of that.
The studio has also been hard because it usually frees my mind to wander, and lately a lot of my thoughts haven’t been comfortable ones. But as time passes, I’m feeling more settled, more content, and more accepting of what is. It’s becoming a little easier to be in my own head, and therefore, in my studio.
The challenge now is that I’m out of the habit of regular artistic practice. I’ve given myself plenty of stern words about getting back in there consistently, but deciding to do something and actually doing it are very different things.
So I’ve decided it’s time for a little accountability.
Yup, it’s another 100 Days Project.
If you’ve followed me for a while, you’ll know I love these: repeating one small thing every day for 100 days, whether it’s writing a poem, taking a photograph, or making a quilt block. It creates habits and routines, and opens the door to creative possibilities.
This time, it’s going to be even simpler.
Every day for 100 days in a row, I’m going to step into my studio and do something. Five minutes or 50 minutes or maybe even five hours. It might just be tidying up, or it could be quilting, cutting, or rearranging my fabric cupboard — but I have to physically step into the room and actually do something.
I won’t be starting just yet. I’m very excited to be heading to Melbourne next week for the Australasian Quilt Convention, so it doesn’t make sense to promise myself the undeliverable. Hopefully I’ll come back from a week away with my stitching buddies feeling relaxed, inspired, and full of motivation.
Day 1 will be Wednesday 15 April 2026.
I’ll be regularly posting what I’ve done to help confirm that I’m showing up for myself.
Thank you for being kind and listening. I’d love to know: what do you do when your mojo has been missing?
