Life on the Road

This fall has been one big, beautiful reset. After saying goodbye to Colorado back in August, I rolled out of town in my little pink, self-converted school bus with my cat Mo and my partner Conor. I didn’t have a real plan, just a craving for adventure, inspiration, and a change of scenery (or maybe several).

Teacup, the bus, parked in Death Valley National Park

The road definitely delivered — with ups and downs of every kind. There were moments of pure magic: doing a 12 mile bucket list hike in The Enchantments, wandering through the dreamy rainforests of Olympic National Park, and standing in the sculpted quiet of Death Valley. I explored new towns, met kind strangers, and soaked up landscapes that felt like they were created just to spark new ideas.

And then there were the… less magical moments. A little instability, a few emotional wobbles, and more than one mechanical fix to keep the bus chugging along. Life on the road isn’t always glamorous — sometimes it’s just you, a well-used toolbox, and a prayer whispered to the universe. But even the tough days added something to the journey.

After a few months of rolling, wandering, and collecting inspiration like souvenirs, the desert called. When we arrived in Tucson, it felt instantly right — warm, bright, and full of dusty desert light that makes the world look softer. The saguaros waved hello, and suddenly settling down for the season sounded perfect.

Now I’m cozied up in my new winter studio, unpacking clay and tools from the bus and finally getting my hands messy again. I’m playing with desert-inspired forms, sketching ideas pulled from months of wandering, and creating with a sense of joy I haven’t felt in a while.

After all that movement, all the highs and lows, it feels really good to land somewhere — and make.

Thanks for following along on this winding little adventure. I can’t wait to share what comes out of this next season of life: a mix of travel, desert magic, and the feeling of finding my way back to clay.