A Little Color.

A Little Texture.

A Little Something Made by Hand.

Paint, fabric, and thread. Sometimes a picture for the wall. Sometimes something you’ll use every day. All things I’ve loved making, ready to become part of your life.

Embroidered Heart. So much of my work comes back to hearts. This one asks you to come a little closer, to notice the small stitches that make up the whole. It makes me think about the quiet ways we care for one another—the things that might go unnoti

Embroidered Heart. So much of my work comes back to hearts. This one asks you to come a little closer, to notice the small stitches that make up the whole. It makes me think about the quiet ways we care for one another—the things that might go unnoticed but still matter.

Needlepoint Sampler. Different stitches, different patterns, all finding their place in one heart. A sampler makes room for trying things, for learning as you go. I like being able to see the differences and still see how they belong together.

Needlepoint Sampler. Different stitches, different patterns, all finding their place in one heart. A sampler makes room for trying things, for learning as you go. I like being able to see the differences and still see how they belong together.

Fabric Heart. A heart waiting to become a block, a quilt, or something else entirely. I haven’t decided yet, and I like that it still has possibilities. Sometimes making one small thing is enough for now. The next idea can come later.

Fabric Heart. A heart waiting to become a block, a quilt, or something else entirely. I haven’t decided yet, and I like that it still has possibilities. Sometimes making one small thing is enough for now. The next idea can come later.

Poppy Needlepoint. As a veteran’s wife, I see more than flowers in these red poppies. They bring remembrance into an ordinary day—a moment to think about those who served, those who never came home, and the people who carry their stories. One small w

Poppy Needlepoint. As a veteran’s wife, I see more than flowers in these red poppies. They bring remembrance into an ordinary day—a moment to think about those who served, those who never came home, and the people who carry their stories. One small way to keep remembering.

Needlepoint Gelato Shop. I love a little place that suggests a whole story. Who runs this shop? Who stops here every afternoon? What would you order? Stitching the windows and doorway gives the place its shape. Imagining the people gives it a life.

Needlepoint Gelato Shop. I love a little place that suggests a whole story. Who runs this shop? Who stops here every afternoon? What would you order? Stitching the windows and doorway gives the place its shape. Imagining the people gives it a life.

Needlepoint Gnome. Some things begin with a question or a story. Others begin with a red hat and the thought that it would be fun to make. There’s room for that, too. A little character who might catch your eye from a shelf and make an ordinary day f

Needlepoint Gnome. Some things begin with a question or a story. Others begin with a red hat and the thought that it would be fun to make. There’s room for that, too. A little character who might catch your eye from a shelf and make an ordinary day feel more playful.

Cross-Stitch Flowers. A garden built one small stitch at a time. With thread, you spend time on details that might pass in a moment outside—a petal, a stem, a particular bit of color. I like giving those little things some time and a place to stay.

Cross-Stitch Flowers. A garden built one small stitch at a time. With thread, you spend time on details that might pass in a moment outside—a petal, a stem, a particular bit of color. I like giving those little things some time and a place to stay.

Seaside House. A little house waiting to find its place. It could become part of a quilt, a block, or another idea that hasn’t arrived yet. Houses turn up in my writing and my art. I’m curious about the lives inside them, the stories they hold, and w

Seaside House. A little house waiting to find its place. It could become part of a quilt, a block, or another idea that hasn’t arrived yet. Houses turn up in my writing and my art. I’m curious about the lives inside them, the stories they hold, and what makes a place feel like home.

A collection of fabric stars with a little moon among them. Each has its own pattern and personality. Together, they make a playful little sky—one with flowers, flamingos, checks, and room for a little wonder. For Sale | $250.

A collection of fabric stars with a little moon among them. Each has its own pattern and personality. Together, they make a playful little sky—one with flowers, flamingos, checks, and room for a little wonder. For Sale | $250.

A little place for each heart. I love how the separate compartments let you notice each one, while the whole collection tells another story. Different fabrics, familiar shapes, and many ways to be a heart.

A little place for each heart. I love how the separate compartments let you notice each one, while the whole collection tells another story. Different fabrics, familiar shapes, and many ways to be a heart.

Little fabric hearts, each with its own colors, patterns, and words. Brought together in a frame, they remind me that belonging leaves room for our differences. Framed in teal, these little fabric hearts bring to mind water, sky, and the things that

Little fabric hearts, each with its own colors, patterns, and words. Brought together in a frame, they remind me that belonging leaves room for our differences. Framed in teal, these little fabric hearts bring to mind water, sky, and the things that help us feel a little lighter. A reminder to make room for whatever does that for you.

Little fabric hearts, each with its own colors, patterns, and words. Brought together in a frame, they remind me that belonging leaves room for our differences. Two collections, one framed in turquoise and one in red. Framed in maroon and gold, these

Little fabric hearts, each with its own colors, patterns, and words. Brought together in a frame, they remind me that belonging leaves room for our differences. Two collections, one framed in turquoise and one in red. Framed in maroon and gold, these little fabric hearts are grounded in loyalty and love. The people we show up for, the places we carry with us, and the connections that remind us where we belong.

Birdcage. Torn pages from Fahrenheit 451 become words escaping a nest. I wonder about Bradbury writing a story about burning books. Did he fear what might happen to his own words, or was he showing us why we have to let them into the world anyway? Th

Birdcage. Torn pages from Fahrenheit 451 become words escaping a nest. I wonder about Bradbury writing a story about burning books. Did he fear what might happen to his own words, or was he showing us why we have to let them into the world anyway? There’s something vulnerable about releasing what we’ve made. We can give it a beginning. We don’t get to decide everywhere it goes.

Ocean Floor. A view from above. Is what you see resting on the surface or looming beneath it? Water can make it hard to tell. I’m interested in that space between what we think we see and what we can actually know. Sometimes looking longer changes th

Ocean Floor. A view from above. Is what you see resting on the surface or looming beneath it? Water can make it hard to tell. I’m interested in that space between what we think we see and what we can actually know. Sometimes looking longer changes the whole picture.

Fearless. I don’t think being fearless means we stop being afraid. Sometimes it means putting something we’ve made into the world before we know how it will be received. A piece of art. A story. An invitation. This is a word to return to when I need

Fearless. I don’t think being fearless means we stop being afraid. Sometimes it means putting something we’ve made into the world before we know how it will be received. A piece of art. A story. An invitation. This is a word to return to when I need a little courage to go ahead.

Dear Soul. I know how easy it is to make room for everything except the thing you keep wanting to do. There’s always a responsibility, a reason, a better time coming. I made this as a reminder to myself, too: the life I want needs more than my hoping

Dear Soul. I know how easy it is to make room for everything except the thing you keep wanting to do. There’s always a responsibility, a reason, a better time coming. I made this as a reminder to myself, too: the life I want needs more than my hoping. It needs me to begin.

Mermaid Dive. When I was a principal, a kindergartener asked if being Mrs. Waters meant I was a mermaid. That question became part of my story. This piece carries a little of that wonder—the movement of water, the pull of what’s below, and the invita

Mermaid Dive. When I was a principal, a kindergartener asked if being Mrs. Waters meant I was a mermaid. That question became part of my story. This piece carries a little of that wonder—the movement of water, the pull of what’s below, and the invitation to dive in.

Embrace. There’s room here for hope, change, challenge, and ambiguity. For being still and taking flight. Words, torn pages, and little bits of color gathered around an invitation I need, too: to embrace the life I’m in while making room for who I’m

Embrace. There’s room here for hope, change, challenge, and ambiguity. For being still and taking flight. Words, torn pages, and little bits of color gathered around an invitation I need, too: to embrace the life I’m in while making room for who I’m becoming.