small is beautiful

re-envisioning consumption (or, why shopping doesn’t have to be a dirty word)

today, my friend and i popped by people’s park centre just to look around. it’s not ur typical ion-orchard-esque shopping, its not the tem or pomelo or zara… its memorable names like “Kaw Pink” or “Zess Shoes” in red & green, blue and yellow, block bright fonts straight out of Microsoft Word Art. signs are sometimes printed on a4 paper or handwritten on little neon post-its, clipped onto little stands by the store owner when he sets up shop for the day. the shop owners, aunties and uncles, are seated in their shops eating their late lunches (no doubt from the hawker shops nearby) or sipping their kopi-O or teh-C. they look expectantly at us when we walk by, i feel a twinge in my heart because i can tell business is hard and slow. the “sale” signs don’t irk me here like they do when i see them in malls, handwritten in black marker – the slashed $20s to $10s, $10s to $5s. i admire them, the patient waiting they do around their own little businesses, the urging us to buy from them whenever there’s a chance.

i was immersed in the experience, taking in the colours, smells (doesn’t a shoe shop have this specific smell?), touches (i love touching and feeling materials: cool jade, a slinky gold chain, a soft leather shoe sole, a structured silk suit) the items speak to me in their own way, their proud owners smiling behind them.

of course, since my trip to Changi and encountering that shoe shop, buying the love-of-my-life shoes “unexpectedly”, i have become more aware of these small businesses, the people who own and run them. My first instinct was to share this “rare” and “unexpected” little place, wanting people to flock there and purchase from them like i did. i want to hype this place up, to make them Big.

but on the train ride home today, meditating on my experiences, i realise that my own instinct for Bigness as an antidote to their Smallness, the frenzy i feel — people need to know about this place NOW — the sadness and mournfulness i feel — Dying Trades! Sunset Industry! — is very much informed by what capitalism has taught me as Success: upscaling, expansion; mega corporations, owning several franchises in different malls, championing trends, or simply following and reproducing them.

i say, “let’s make secondhand and thrifting TRENDY” but why must we make it trendy? why is trendiness a marker of success within the consumption world? we proudly say, “this is thrifted” and now thrift and vintage have become “brand-words” in their own way. why do we lean onto hype culture so, so very much whenever we are talking about consumption.

i’ve put quotation marks for the words rare and unexpected. there’s no doubt that if people ask me where i got my shoes from, they will feel that way – what a rare gem, an unexpected find! so hard to find these things nowadays! i used to think the same way, and a large part of this is true. it is true that capitalism and the rise of big corporations and mega brands have eradicated so much of the business of tradesmen, craftsmen, small and local businesses. i am not writing to refute this fact. but i am writing to explore the potential and possibility of consumption in these “unexpected” places, that perhaps they might not be so far off or unexpected anymore.

i write to explore this smallness, indeed that the antidote to fast paced consumerism, big-brand domination and reliance may not be to make these Small Shops Big, its not to make thrifting or secondhand Trendy and Fresh and New, but it’s really to change the way we think about consumption, production, shopping, ownership. to change our relationship to “small”, to re-envision the way we engage and live in this very material world.

the first thing is: small is beautiful.

small is beautiful. breathe, take this in.

Small is beautiful, as in, this uncle selling me this gold chain, he knows every corner of his little jewelry shop at People’s Park Centre. He has likely talked to every single one of his suppliers personally — some of them are probably his long-time industry friends. Small is beautiful, as in, i can see that this uncle — smiling at me, now proudly showcasing me his collection of pendants and bracelets – has unpackaged, handled and polished every one of the things he is now selling with his own two hands. his own Hands have touched and felt what he is now selling to me. he pulls up random things he thinks i will like based on the way my eyes light up at different things i am touching and feeling. this is not the “you will also like…” function on online shopping platforms or algorithm driven advertising – this is someone communicating with me through consumption and production; this is someone sharing his life’s work, his career, his passion with me, through selling and buying. these words are sadly now tainted with capitalist notions of materialism, overconsumption, greed. but here, i am saying these words lovingly, because they’ve allowed us to meet and collect in this small little shop space, they are the ways in which i am entering into and partaking of the small little world he has built up.

moments of connection. when have i felt this in stores or malls? i think about how we trust brand names – oh yes, its XX brand shoes, so it’s good. i can’t tell you how many times i myself have entered a brand name into the carousell search engine because i wanted to find a way to get a pair of shoes that “would definitely last” or “is of quality”. yes, i’ve been taught to associate these values with the brand. why? oh, well, they have millions of followers on instagram. they have stores worldwide. everyone else is wearing them. but i can’t tell you how many times ive gotten my toes pinched and blistered because of my own blind trust in these things.

shoe shops we browsed at people’s park centre

in these “unexpected” places, there are people who have been collecting, producing, supplying goods for years and years. they have knowledge of trade and the industry… they have skills that i cant fathom. i used to love artisan and cratfed goods, people who made what they sell, but now i have a special respect for the tradesmen/suppliers/collectors who have rich knowledge of their industry and a deep love for what they sell. they form a part of the picture for me too.

small is beautiful. i want to rely on these small businesses, to rely on these relationships founded on mutual respect and trust — person to person relationships, not on Names or Numbers or Brands. this applies to that small insta-shop owner i trust to curate good quality things for me, as it does to that aunty and uncle who greet me when i enter their store. these are people who stand behind the counter of what they sell, and say, this is what i want to offer. this is what i think is good. this is what i believe is of value to you. these store owners beam and put their own face, person, livelihood behind their product, and with that, accountability, ownership, pride. we are not talking about an absence of profit motive, or no desire to sell you their goods. of course they want you to buy – this is their labour, their life. but all i can say is small is beautiful; all i can say is that here, there is trust and personhood and relationships that governs this process of production and consumption.

advertising tries to tell us: this is trendy. U need this. U want this. big brands scheme and plot how to manipulate us into buying their items; in turn, we scheme and plot on how to use a certain combination of discount codes to get the best deal out of them, we turn to websites and apps specifically built to tell us when prices have dropped; we hold out until we know the company will sigh in defeat and put the “sale” tag on the item we’ve been eyeing, or, we buy something, only to bemoan and rage at the company for “cheating us” of our money when the item doesn’t live up to advertised expectations. i’m saying this is frustration and pain on both sides – mistrust, scheming, manipulation, outwitting, disappointment, defeat.. these are the things governing our buying and selling today.

i mourn for the openness, respect and trust we have lost. i yearn for the communing, sharing, and joy we could have.

i want to smile at something i love, touch it, try it, talk to the shop owner about it, engage in friendly banter, ask them questions about the material and supplier, ask for their opinion, tell them i’ll come again, or purchase it, believing and trusting that the money i have put into the item will serve me well, will serve me long. truly, i want this.

the second things is: beautiful is right next to you, “right around the corner”

here, i am reminded of Remy from Ratatouille… a small little mice living in the canals of Paris, and the quote, “a cook can come from anywhere”. A cook can come from anywhere, and that beautiful item of clothing or object that you’ve been wanting, that will stay with you and serve you for life, can come from anywhere.

(i think that as i talk about the first point, i cannot deny that fast fashion is now so cheap that it is indeed the most financially accessible way for people struggling financial to get their clothing. people who Need to shop fast fashion due to financial constraint should definitely do so without reproach or condemnation. but im speaking to the majority of us who can afford to spend $80 on a good pair of shoes, who can spend $50 on clothes in one shopping trip. small is beautiful, and go and find where your own version of that is.)

but for this second point… beautiful is everywhere. to drive my point, im going to say “trendy” is everywhere. “cool” is everywhere. beautiful is everywhere, is right next to us, when we rewire our notions of convenience and accessibility.

let’s ask ourselves: what’s opposite my house? what’s on the street next to mine?

do we know what the communities and people directly in our vicinity have to offer?

i’ll speak for myself – no, not until recently. until recently, i relied on big brands to curate and collate things for me, so easy and conveniently. they churn out what they think i’ll want. hours are spent browsing online shopping platforms… linked to pinterest and instagram, of course, because there is where i know things are trendy, cool, hip, relevant. when we need something, when we have that urge to get something, we immediately browse a website “out of convenience” (sh**n, z***). our go-to places are always online, are always large scale, are always mega corporations.

but what if we think in terms of literal distance: what are the shops right around your house? what do they sell? where are your nearest local markets? what do they sell? where is your community centre – do they have community gardens, workshop spaces, or a book exchange shelf? where is your local library? what about a shoe repairman or tailor near your house?

and, what if we think in terms of social circles, the people accessible to us: does my friend have a spare one they don’t want? could i borrow it or swap something with them? could i share this with someone? could i ask my next door neighbour if she has any i could use?

a mix of gold, silver, gemstone rings – mismash of stainless steel costume jewelry

i desire this physical and material interdependence, this intentional interweaving with those who live around me, those who are living their lives with me. in a season where isolation and independence have become the norm, even praised and celebrated, i want to lean hard on my place, my people, i want to depend on things to be there for me – the bread shop that opens every day until midnight, the aunty who sells the softest cotton sleepwear every sunday, the uncle who i know will be there, faithfully repairing shoes until he no longer can… in turn, they depend on (us/me), for their livelihood, purpose; and for both of us, we want each other, for the warmth, interaction, companionship.

third: small means waiting for it, and this is beautiful.

beautiful things find our way to us, in time.

i think something shopping secondhand and small has taught me to be patient. i know i want something: a pair of wide leg beige culottes. a bucket hat that actually fits my huge head. there was a time i was really into vintage glassware… on and on. in the waiting, and longing, i mull over why i really want the item. sometimes, the waiting teaches me something about myself too.

sometimes, the waiting shows me that my desire was born out of insecurity. i catch myself scrolling Carousell whenever im feeling down about how i look in the mirror. i believe that owning this Thing will make me feel better about my appearance, or i will finally look right. i know, i know. but im just trying to be honest here. because of the waiting i engage in – waiting for that item to come along, online or offline, i get a chance to process my thoughts and feelings… and sometimes, catch myself falling into the trap of trying to fill some void with an item. here, its crucial that i don’t condemn myself, because society has taught us to believe this…

instead, whenever this happens, i (try to) go to my existing wardrobe and challenge myself to put together an outfit ive never worn before. as i browse my own racks and finger the floaty chiffons and soft knits, the airy cottons and linens, the sturdy denim and polyesters… as i allow the patterns and colours i’ve fallen in love with previously to speak to me again, i find the frustration and desire for something new melt away slowly. when i finally put together something that feels good, i find gratitude in what i already own, the faithfulness of things that have grown with you, stayed by your side.

other times, the waiting shows me how specific and unique my wants are – here, i am not talking about immediate needs but rather wants – and how deserving they are to take their time to be fulfilled. i’ve wanted a long linen dress for really long, because i love how easy and breezy they are. i’m not gonna lie, i’ve walked into many fast fashion stores for this… and i’ve been tempted to get something simple and on “SALE!!!” but, in the waiting, i recognised they never felt or fitted right. i was waiting for that moment of spark with an item, like a person you meet for the first time who feels like a long lost friend. that’s how i want to fall in love with my clothes…

when you finally find the piece, it feels really, really good.

And if you’re a little obsessive like me, you remember that moment forever. (i do remember where i got every piece of my clothing/shoes/accessories from, because im slightly insane) i learnt that self-love is letting myself wait for these moments, instead of buying the first item i see in haste.

highly recommend taking many mirror selfies to document moments of celebratory skirt swishing

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i write all this to tell myself, i don’t want small to become big. i want to relish in this smallness, this nearness, this waiting – i want to treasure the communing, the interacting, the sharing of the love of things between people; i want to form relationships of trust and accountability that will shape and guide my spending and consumption habits.

i want us to crave these interactions and relationships when we think of “shopping”, instead of mindless self-indulgence that only leaves us feeling emptier. i want us to be attuned to, and relish in, the rich, tactile and sensorial pleasures of a “shopping” experience, to think of touching, seeing, holding in our palms, to think of fitting, moving, walking… i want us to be listening, talking, making connections with people even as we are forming connections with goods.

found the teapot of my dreams recently at Sungei Road Green Hub, hosting vendors previously selling at the Sungei Road Thieves Market. The vendors there are cool, fun & very eclectic… you’ll know what i mean if you go there.

you know, our consumption, our production, the “frivolous” shopping, could be really beautiful experiences – of connection, of learning, of admiration and respect for another’s craft and expertise. of knowing your neighbourhood and surroundings and your place within it. it could be one of grounding, rootedness. of respect and trust. it could even be one of love — for others and for ourselves.

i want this for myself, for us. and i think we can make our small little lives, our daily consumptions patterns and habits, part of this beautiful, bigger, intertwined whole.

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i will wear these shoes well

from @wearweare channel on telegram~

today, i shall share the story about these pair of handcrafted woven shoes i purchased from a very inconspicuous shop tucked away along changi village, called (q. ambiguously) “Fashion Shoe Shop”. during my staycay at changi village, i wandered the shops only to be drawn to the rows of very beautiful shoes (there are both leather and synthetic variants). i was super hungry and wanted to get dinner, but couldnt help being drawn to the shoes… & i was told the shop was gonna close in 30 mins! haha so u know, i went in.

i wish i took more photos of the place, but i was busy fawning and asking the owner questions about his shoes. “where do you get your shoes from?”
“yes, these are very high quality handcrafted shoes. the designs are very unique and now production has stopped because the artisans are old, and covid pushed them to retire. so these shoes, i wont have any more of them after they are gone”

“these artisans are from overseas?”
“no, all Singaporeans! These are made locally u know! these are people who have been in the shoe trade for many years, some up to 50 years! like me. but covid, now a lot retire. so i dont think i can get any more shoes from them, unless some of them decide to produce again.”
“wow… thats sad… 🥺 i love these shoes… im so hungry but delaying dinner to look at them uwu”
“ya, ya, i know. but how, last time ah, people have to beg craftsmen and artisans to become shoemakers and apprentices, now no one wants to take over the craft. and of course, the older generation wants their children to succeed as businessmen and whatnot, so they wont force them to continue. thats how it is, last time, we can work in one industry for 30, 40 years, now its not like that…”

at this point i have nothing to say but nod slowly … picturing the people who made these shoes, who dedicated their life to shoes. but then i said “nowadays, the shoes i find in malls, they aren’t like this…”
“yes, cos the material quality is different and its usually factory produced. but then its okay also, look at charles and keith, they are doing well, from local brand become global! but i tell u a secret. its because LV actually bought a share, so a portion of charles and keith is actually designed by the crafters under LV. i know cos i in the shoe trade la!”

haha, at this point, i laughed and told him he is very cool and i want to buy this pair of shoes. he purses his lips and looks at the shoes on my feet, dissatisfied. he says, “girl, the shoes is just slightly bigger than your feet. its not a perfect fit. i dont wanna sell for the sake of it, are u sure you want this?”
ive fallen in love w the shoes at this point though, so i walk several rounds around his shop, fast and slow, and keep assuring him i will love and use them well. hahaha i was actually having to convince him to sell them to me. “i really love the shoes uncle, i will wear them!”

he finally relents, smiling, and says, “ok, ok. if only i had one size smaller.” he goes on to teach me some leather care tips, how to keep the shoes dry, and gives me a discount of the price (🥺🥰)

now when i wear these shoes, i remember the passion they carry and how much they were loved, both by the craftsmen and the shoe shop owner… the dedication to the craft that is able to celebrate the wider success of the industry beyond themselves (i was expecting bitterness in his words at how times are changing, but there were none), and just a pure, pure love for the craft of shoe making and the shoe industry…

i dont have any takehome point for this story, take what you will … it reminds me how the old/new binary we use is often a false one, its perhaps more helpful to think of what we wear in terms of cycles and seasons, of craft and workmanship instead of trends or styles … of course its also that the story adds to the shoe i wear on my feet, heh.
uncle i will wear these shoes well! ♥️

some musings on this story, after chewing on it more:

ive always been moved by the intertwining between artisanship and people; craft and crafter; object, owner and tradesmen. there is a beautiful ecosystem of trust and reliance, of dedication and skill on the side of the artisan, of patience, waiting and appreciating on the side of the owner. relationships anchor the act of consumption and production, rather than the other way around.

what i recall from this conversation is not bitterness but rather a peace in things changing and growing and evolving, as they always will be. it perhaps less important for things to stay the same as it is for stories, values, methods to live on in new ways. even though there is a prevailing sentiment that these trades are “dying”, and that we are now moving into a period of pre-emptively mourning their loss, i believe there is yet still so much Life in the work of tradesmen, crafters, collectors and artisans in Singapore, so much to be sought out, marvelled, appreciated, inspired by; so much of the values, traditions and ecosystems to be reclaimed, stories to be retold, objects and methods reworked into our daily lives. Perhaps these things can live on in beautiful new ways.

one of my absolute favourite things is to see old traditions being respectfully reworked into new styles, fashions and objects, all the while paying homage to the deep roots of where it came from.

one of my favourite designers is @sarahnsikak, an artist and fashion designer whose beautiful patchwork dresses and garments pay homage to the Heroro women of Namibia. I love how she is not only reworking their methods into her designs, but retelling their stories in new ways, and reclaiming the intimacy of consumption and production through the slowness of her craft. At the same time, the dresses pay homage to the oldness and history of the craft through the use of secondhand or waste fabrics, even as much as this choice also speaks to the urgent climate crisis that the fashion industry is complicit in… i could go on for paragraphs writing how much political, social and cultural power/ influence this dress holds within its billowing, vibrant, twirling self…

i guess what i really see here is how what we wear is so much more than a frivolous material item we put on our body,

on one hand, within each item lies economic chains of production and consumption, its environmental impact, human labour, culture, history, social ties, complicated intertwining of social/economic/capitalist agendas… on the other hand, what we wear is deeply intertwined with our perceptions of aesthetic and beauty, body image & standards, our bodily comfort in the clothing and so bringing things like health, mobility & disability into play, social status, belonging… it is at once deeply personal and entirely political (i use political to refer to systems & structure of power)

in this way, i believe the potential of fashion, as both an embodied, tactile experience of a singular individual choosing what to wear in the morning, and an intangible, rich space where society, history, politics, culture, economics and the environment intersect, to nourish and guide our way into activism: a deeper engagement with issues of social & environmental justice.

as i have written on the Wear We Are tele channel, i believe deeply in the power of enjoying the experience of fashion – dressing up, buying clothes, treasuring and owning items, in guiding and nourishing our engagement with the problems and issues it inherently intertwines with.

ive started writing Wear We Are and curating this space simply out of a desire to document and celebrate my own journey into living a more conscious and engaged life, starting with where i am, and what i wear.

as i wrote freely, i realise that it was really my ingratiation into the process of thrifting – the play, freedom and beauty it allowed me to experience in my body and self-expression – that led me to asking questions about fashion and consumerism that eventually led me into issues of environmentalism, capitalism, colonialism, gender, race… ultimately pointing me towards the urgent and beautiful vision of intersectional social justice.

keeping this little happy chat bubble here for documentation, i was very happy when i realised these things for myself.

may this space be a reminder that what we enjoy & desire, what is Good for us, what gives us Life, is often not mutually exclusive with, but instead imperative to, the urgent transformation and revolution we need in our world today. im seeing this for myself in thrift, artisanship, craft, fashion, dressing up, clothes… what about you?

join me https://t.me/wearweare

self care/ community care

hello world! hello me!

today, i am quite UwU and heartened by the week – of rest, reflections and processing and tending to my inner garden. i don’t use these words lightly, as much as they sound so fluffy…

i named this blog ra’ah because God gave me this word this year, and it’s been an anchor throughout – ra’ah is used in Ecclesiates, where it says:

every version of this verse hits me different in a good way

ive written a lot about this word and what it means to me on my instagram so do check it out if you would like the long and in depth journey of me and this word.1As i start this writing documentation of my journey as a “young 20-something” “christian” “activist” – ive never FULLY resonated with any one of these words because of the social and cultural stereotypes and contexts they are often used in, and would prefer actually to say i am a highly sensitive, deeply affected by the world person walking out a journey with God – i go back to the word ra’ah because it encapsulates and grounds my direction for this space. this space of figuring out what it means to heal, personally, as well as heal, collectively, intertwined and interdependently. It is a space where i want to see self-work and community work as intertwined and mutually enriching and nourishing. it is space where i want to work things out, personally & politically.

ra’ah – it means to enjoy. the verse up there, it states, so clearly and simply, that it is pleasure from the hand of God (!) that we can enjoy ALL our labour, toil or work. I like to use the word labour because while work has so many related connotations to what one’s job or career is, labour reminds me of a life’s work – what are we even alive, breathing, occupying this space in the world for? i used to think (as a believer) my life is a sacrifice to God. For him to do what He wants to do.

That is most definitely true. but ive never imagined that this life’s work was meant to be enjoyable, pleasurable, rich & delightful.

but that’s what God is saying here, at least to me.

for so long, ive thought of life split up into three segments: clear up my own mess, clear up the world’s mess, and then, relax when its over or you reach retirement age and no one expects anything from you anymore.

as someone who struggled and still struggles with her mental health, the first segment seemed to be going on forever.

so, i decided, forget it, lets just forget the first part, and move onto the next part. let’s at least be useful somewhere and somehow. i dabbled in so many non-profit related work, in photography and videography, i volunteered in family service centres and charities, i served in my church. im NOT in any way a hero, nor have i done anything amazing, but i would say im constantly striving to give and help… whatever little i have. i was always conscious it was little, and felt that sheer relief that God somehow still wanted to use that little bit. i was always conscious of my own brokenness, helplessness, weakness, and that made me cling onto Him.

i would say, yes, the journey was beautiful in its own way, and even needful in its own way, but you can imagine what it is like when a broken, empty person trying to help other broken, empty people… its painful. its full of pain actually, because you cannot ever seem to do what you’ve set out to do (help people) because you realise your own struggles are getting in the way. then you feel burnt out, small, condemned, useless. you’re like, “God… why did you create me?”

eventually, my body collapsed and forced myself to stop running and striving in this desperate way. at the core of it, i saw myself as rejected and useless until i could find meaning and purpose in helping others. i saw life as something to be earned and deserved, rather than a gift to be received.

even though the season of giving and serving definitely showed me my need for God, it resulted in a very broken relationship with myself, and with Life. striving and striving, never allowing myself to receive pleasure, beauty, joy, freedom, peace.

through the word – ra’ah – which i’m only just beginning to understand and live out, i have come to realise that what i thought were three separate stages or segments of life (if i may separate them: growth, labour, pleasure) were One and Intertwined. Life is a gift, where we grow, where we labour in our own growth and in our communities, where we find great enjoyment and pleasure in this labouring, individually and together. as we become, we are also working, we are also partaking, we are also enjoying. society has taught us that life comes in fixed stages or linear hierarchies when really it comes in overlapping and encircling ripples, life embraces you as you learn to embrace yourself.

for reALLy long, ive always felt hindered in my ability to connect and contribute to the world, because of what i saw as mental illness. there’s so much to be unpacked where mental illness is concerned (how much of it is really an individual’s problem and how much of it is determined, shaped, inflected, fuelled or propped up by societal – political, cultural, economical – structures and systems?) and that is definitely something i want to explore more here. but for now, i find in myself more than sufficient Grace to say that i have come to see my own healing, self-work and self-care as intertwined and nourished by a deep and active engagement with my immediate communities and the wider world around me, indeed that self care/community care are one and the same thing.

Credit: @ogorchukwuu

this doesn’t mean i keep on giving, giving, depleting my own energy for others at the expense of myself. it means trusting that my self-work, my self-care is not the simple shopping spree or mind-numbing vacation, but a sincere, persistent digging deep into myself to find what i truly want and desire, to find what makes me move and rumble, what my whole being yearns to vision and create. it is trusting that this entire process is part of community-building, too, and then actively and intentionally creating those connections through vulnerability and holding space, for the Other and your Self. (but what is this other/self but yet another binary? can we choose to leave the vision of the autonomous ego behind? more on that later, too) in this way, self work becomes community work when we choose to see the process of unlearning, of shaking off the dust of stereotypes, biases, small-minded beliefs and ignorant behaviours, of quieting the voices that say we need to be productive, useful, superior, better …. as a part of loving and nourishing ourselves, and each other, and embracing what is True, together.

really, i believe self-healing can only happen in a community of co-labourers, grounded in Love.

it is finally also believing that all of this, ALL of it, the painful and ugly and gory bits, can also be deeply fulfilling, pleasurable, enjoyable – ra’ah. where my soul sees Good. I want my soul to see good, even in the difficult in-between, the painful poking and prodding.

part of all of this, trusting that i can hold space for myself in this chaotic, messy world, to write, to make, to create, to do things that i love doing and makes my soul sing. to believe that even something small like this can mean something. and i really believe, if in simply following my own path i can inspire another person to shake off the dust of the world, and do the same, i can rest fully satisfied.

so in all of this, may those neatly divided categories tumble and fall; because God has again showed me how big He is, how big His heart is for Me and for My life. and for every single one of His people as well. so much richer, so much more beautiful, this Life, than i could have ever imagined.

may You bless and nourish and open up this space for me to move, dance, paint and sing freely, God, may You be intimate and close to me in the process.

from my favourite hand-letterer, poet and artist, @lorihetteen





💌 all my love

[1] my instagram account is privated, but i will accept anyone who isn’t a bot or spam or shop account, because it helps me to curate with intention when i keep the space very personable and small. but i will accept any HUMAN BEING! ❤ (or Very Sincere and Persistent Animal!)