Photo: Aloe Eru in my garden

I start from the center and work out.

When I create jewelry, I start from the center — a beautiful pendant, unique beads, a design template — and spiral out to the finished product. I add more — beads, colors, details — until the piece radiates a calming beauty. I don’t always know what an item of jewelry will look like when I begin assembling components, but I start from the center and trust that my aesthetic instinct will follow a path illuminated by the beads.

I start from the center and work out.

When I write poetry or essays, I start from the center — an emotion, an event, an idea — and let the words wrap around the core until they express what I need to say. My writing process is similar to creating jewelry — I’m not afraid to embellish when it furthers the logical conclusion, and equally not fearful of removing elements that detract from the intrinsic design.

I start from the center and work out.

For seven years I taught a free weekly exercise class for breast cancer survivors, as my way of giving back to the community. Our community is the next layer out from self.

I start from the center — my heart, my soul — and work outwards, to create art, to describe my world, to touch the people around me.

— a radical concept for someone who spent most of her life standing on the periphery and yearning for an inner circle that seemed so far away.

I start from the center and work out.
An epiphany, almost.

The journey home.

All photos taken in my garden. Top header: aloe eru. Left margin: night blooming cereus, pink flower 9 a.m. Right margin: Peruvian Cereus cactus flowers 6 a.m. Bottom: small barrel cacti.