Whispers Will Wander

  Visiting the Swiss countryside soothed my soul in ways I didn’t expect. The continuous, gentle melody of cowbells was a constant reminder that the sweet giants were meandering through the sloped hills, grazing as they went. It was a sound so pure and rhythmic that it felt like the heartbeat of the land itself. The small but well-organized garden systems I saw there inspired me to return home and try again with my own plot. I loved how they allowed wild spaces to flourish around fruiting trees, while still carefully tending to their annual crops. There was a balance — a respect for both wildness and order — that felt deeply right. I've always been hesitant about how to best treat the earth as I grow from it. Honestly, I don't always trust what we are taught is "good" in the United States. Observing this sweet farm, even in the brief time I had, sparked something in me — an inkling that perhaps I can move forward, respecting natural growth while also creating my own i...

  10½ Things I Learned in My First 24 Hours in Switzerland …and one cowbell-fueled reason I might never leave. I’m barely a day into my Switzerland adventure, and already this place has taught me more than a semester of geography ever could. From money mix-ups to unexpected cow serenades, here are a few lessons (and a lot of love) from my first 24 hours in the land of mountains, chocolate, and precision: 1. Always Get the Francs. Yes, the exchange rate might be slightly higher at the airport, but you know what’s worse? Not being able to pay for parking. We rented a car, and suddenly found ourselves in a charming little cash-only spiral because—plot twist—some payment systems don’t work with rentals. Lesson: get some Swiss francs the second you land. Future-you will thank you. 2. Even the Banks Take a Lunch Break. Banks close between 12 and 1:30. Honestly, I respect it. A country that values a proper lunch? A+ priorities. But if you’re trying to get cash during that time… enjoy a sc...

  I started teaching an art class at our local library—something I called Mindful  Art —and to be honest, it’s become one of my favorite parts of the week. What I didn’t expect was how much I’d fall in love with teaching . Not in a “stand at the front of the class and instruct” way, but in the way that invites people to show up just as they are—tired, energetic, excited, messy, unsure—and know that’s enough. What I’m realizing is that I’m actually really good at creating space for people to exist without needing to perform. To sit down and be human, no pressure. No right way to make art. No wrong way to feel. Just… space. And when we’re given that kind of space, something really beautiful happens: we start to reconnect with ourselves. One of the ladies in my class said something that really stuck with me. She said she loved just being told what to do—given a prompt, no decision-making, no overthinking. “Just tell me what to paint.” And I felt that deep in my soul. Sometime...