A case study on creative recovery: 12 weeks inside a global community of women in The Artist’s Way — where I uncovered not just inspiration, but a complete feeling of purpose.

I’ve always been drawn to small, intentional, almost cult-level communities — the kind that feel like a secret until they don’t.

In elementary school, it was Warrior Cats.
Middle school? Wattpad.
High school gave me marching band.
College handed me yoga and K-pop.
Now, it’s Discord servers and underground DJ sets (subject to change in the next couple months).

There’s something alchemical that happens in these corners of the world.
When people gather with shared obsession — even loosely — something opens.

  • Rejuvenate my creativity.
    Become more of an artist.
    Paint more, make more, be more.
    I wanted to feel that deep creative pulse again — to move from inspiration, not obligation.

  • I found more.
    More hobbies. More passions.
    My brain got reordered — in the best way. I fell back into research, learning, pattern-tracking. I fell back in love with life. I realized art is everywhere. And my definition of art expanded — it’s not just the thing you make, it’s the way you see.

  • Being me. Living, loving, making.
    Everything has a purpose — or at least, it can.
    I started finding that purpose through pattern-making, through recording, through soft attention. I fell in love with the process, not just the product. It made life feel more alive.

This experience reminded me that creativity isn't always about outcomes — it's about orientation. And community, when it's right, can be the richest soil

Through the unconditional acceptance of community, my garden gate was polished — and given permission to stay ajar.

I demanded directions to my sun-kissed path, leading toward my flourishing garden.

I incessantly shake my head & shove consistency away

Now, that garden is my home —

Bbut only after I picked up every cherry blossom petal resting on the concrete in New York.

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