My garage is a graveyard of failed attempts, fabric sacrificed to trial and error. I chased a look I could see in my mind but couldn’t yet create. It’s a delicate balance—consistency and imperfection, structure and spontaneity. The flaws are the goal, yet I need a method I can repeat.

Dyeing is more alchemy than art. The water’s temperature, the dye’s strength, the way colors mix and settle—add salt, double-dye, pre-soak or don’t. Air dry for one effect, tumble dry for another. Each choice leaves a mark. And once the fabric holds its story, it’s time to cut and sew.

I work with what I have. One pair of shears for every cut. An old sewing machine, gifted by a friend—passed down from her mother-in-law. I own newer machines, smoother, faster. But this one hums in a way the others don’t. It lacks modern precision, but there’s something meditative about its rhythm, something human in its imperfections.

Then comes the aging—tea stains for timeworn depth, intentional cuts, splattered paint, hand-drawn details. There’s no secret technique to it. It’s the same process you learn in grade school to make pirate maps or replicas of the Declaration of Independence—soak, stain, let time do the rest. But somehow, even the simplest methods hold magic. I chase the feeling of something lost and found, something that carries a story before it’s even owned. I want each piece to feel like it belongs in a desert bar, weathered by sun and smoke, timeless and true.

Design is about solving a problem. Art is about making someone feel something.

For the longest time, I waited—waited for the Eureka moment, the lightning strike, the spark that would push me to create. But the truth is, art isn’t about waiting. It’s about doing. It’s about making something just for the sake of making it.

If you’re an artist—or if you want to be—I hope my work encourages you to create. Paint something. Sew something. Draw something. Anything. Just create. Share your vision, even if it feels small, even if no one else understands it. Don’t chase approval. Don’t create to sell. Don’t worry about pleasing anyone but yourself. Unplug from the noise, lose yourself in the process, and make something that feels good to you.

The world can be chaotic, but art is an escape. A way to carve out beauty in the madness.

If you’ve read this far, thank you for taking the time. I hope you enjoy what I’ve made, and more than that, I hope it pushes you to make something of your own.

Don’t seek perfection. Seek freedom.