The Artist’s Journal
Reflections from the path of spirit-led creativity and transformation.
Step into the sacred rhythm of creation, where every knot, word, and moment is part of the journey. This space holds stories from my path as an artist, healer, and seeker—woven with lessons from sacred places, soul initiations, and the quiet beauty of devotion.
Here, I share behind-the-scenes glimpses into my creative process, the inspirations that move through my hands and heart, and the ways art becomes a living prayer. You'll find reflections on growth, vulnerability, joy, and the powerful medicine of honoring your own evolution.
This is not just about making—it’s about remembering who you are through the act of creation.
My Experience with the Pleiadians
A Bridge Between Earth and Stars
In 2011–2012, I worked as a tour guide at Uluru and Kata Tjuta, guiding groups of around 30 international travelers through the sacred red heart of Australia. I was entrusted with sharing the Dreamtime stories of the land—oral histories and creation myths that speak to the soul more than the mind.
Repeating these stories day after day, I noticed something strange and beautiful: the more I told them, the more I felt them. The words didn’t just explain—they began to initiate. I was no longer just translating culture across a language barrier—I was acting as a bridge of energy, embodying something deeper that stirred beneath the surface of words.
I began to feel Uluru not just as a physical place, but as the energetic heart chakra of the Earth. The silence of the desert, the echo in the stone, the ancient intelligence in the land—all of it began to resonate inside me. I didn't have the words for it then, but I now know that I was being attuned, gently and soulfully, to something Pleiadian.
And this is where it gets interesting.
I’ve always thought I was more deeply connected to Sirian or Arcturian energies—and in many ways, I still am. Those frequencies feel familiar to my soul’s architecture. But now, as I write this and begin reintegrating with Light Language, I see clearly: the Pleiadians are how I return. Their lightness, softness, and open-hearted codes are the exact medicine for the chapter I’ve just emerged from.
In 2020, I gave birth to twins. They’re five now.
The birth experience brought deep emotional and physical trauma, and the years that followed took nearly all of my energetic life. I lost touch with my practice, my voice, my starline connections. I became quiet.
I diverted from the path—but I see now, I was never lost. Just rerouted into the kind of transformation that only Earth can initiate.
And the Pleiadians? They came back in softly, without pressure. Like a whisper saying,
“Start here. Begin again. You haven’t missed a thing.”
Today, when I hear or feel their Light Language transmissions, they come in like a soft breeze—light, flowing, and invitational, never overwhelming. There’s a joy to them, a clarity that dissolves resistance and opens the heart without force. They’re not intense in the way some cosmic transmissions can be—they’re like a remembering, a smiling presence, a sense of ease.
In many ways, the work I did at Uluru prepared me for this. It taught me how frequency lives in sound, how story becomes initiation, and how words—when spoken from presence—carry codes far beyond meaning.
This is the heart of the Pleiadian connection for me:
A lightness of being.
A clarity of presence.
A call to remember who we are through joy, not struggle.
From One Knot to a Movement: My Journey into Micromacramé
How one handmade necklace sparked a journey of creativity, resilience, and soul-led entrepreneurship.
It all started with a necklace I stumbled upon at a small pop-up market in Coolum Beach. I was on my way to study the Essence of Angels teacher training when I wandered through the stalls and spotted a basket-style necklace—delicate, earthy, and completely enchanting. A thin quartz crystal was tucked inside a handwoven olive-green basket, closed with a wooden bead. I was captivated. Could I create something like this?
Weeks later, after completing the workshop, I visited a local bead shop where they showed me waxed linen cord sourced from Thailand. I left with a small brown roll and the spark of something new. I began teaching myself how to weave basket wraps.
At first, it was fiddly and slow. My hands would sweat with concentration. But something about the process lit me up. With time, the motion became rhythmic. Meditative. Addictive. I couldn’t stop. My hands were always moving—thread and crystals constantly passing through my fingers.
I started making necklaces, anklets, bracelets—one after another. When I showed my early creations to those closest to me, the responses weren’t what I expected. One of my best friends laughed and said, “I’d never wear that shit.” Another asked, “Did you plait all of that?” My sister simply said, “Why would you make this?”
But here’s the thing—I never really knew what support looked like growing up. So their reactions didn’t shake me. I just kept going. Kept making. Before long, I had about 50 unique pieces—single-wrap baskets, double-wrap pendants, beaded tassels, and more.
I took a leap and booked my first market stall at Fisherman’s Road Market in Maroochydore. One table, a piece of fabric, a few crystals, and my handmade treasures. People stopped, admired, and bought. From there, it just kept flowing.
The market stall grew. I joined events like the Fibre Arts Festival, where I taught pot hangers, bracelets, and basket necklaces. I vended at Peregian, Eumundi, Coolum Beach, and Conscious Life Festivals. I stocked Atlantean Earth in Yandina. I taught at Fibre Arts again while 24 weeks pregnant with twins—before eventually moving to New Zealand.
From my first knot in late 2012 to my last one in Australia in May 2019, so much magic unfolded.
And if there’s one truth I’ve learned from this journey, it’s this:
The people closest to you may not always see your vision—and that’s okay.
Trust your path. Keep creating. Keep following the thread of inspiration. If I’d listened to those early voices of doubt, I wouldn’t be living this self-made creative life. Your vibe truly does attract your tribe.
From Stagnation to Flow: How I Overcome Creative Blocks and Unlock My Artistic Inspiration as a Micromacramé Artist
Exploring Creative Blocks, Crystals, and Light Language Inspirations
From Stagnation to Flow: Navigating the Energetic Entanglements That Bind Me
Creative stagnation—I know it well.
It arrives like an uninvited guest in my journey as a micromacramé artist. It’s not the kind of pause that comes from a lack of skill or inspiration; it’s an energetic interruption. The moment I feel external expectations rooting themselves into my work—the subtle, sometimes overt projections of others who want to shape my creations into their own vision—my flow halts.
I sense it in the quiet moments of knotting crystals that my body & soul dont feel aligned to work with in that time & space, when the design that once sparkled in my mind’s eye suddenly clouds over. My hands hover, uncertain—not because I doubt my ability, but because I can feel the energetic imposition, as if unseen hands are trying to weave themselves into my work.
These blocks aren’t about fear. They’re about energy—about how the expectations and desires of others can entangle with my creative space if I’m not vigilant. Over time, I’ve learned that my best work emerges when I listen not to external voices but to the crystals themselves, the spirit tribes, the light language codes, and the intuitive whispers that guide me.
🌿 Tracing the Energetic Roots of Creative Stagnation
When I reflect on my journey, I see how these blocks emerge:
• When someone asks for a custom design that feels misaligned with the crystal’s essence or my current energetic path.
• When I sense that a request carries not just admiration but an unconscious desire to control or reshape the natural flow of my work.
• When my body and spirit are gently nudging me to pause, to hear the subtle messages of the crystals and the deeper initiations waiting to emerge—whether that’s a shift in materials, a new technique, or simply a meditative pause.
These moments aren’t about perfectionism or self-doubt. They’re about respecting the sacred timing of creation, recognizing when it’s time to honor a different message or shift focus entirely.
🌿 My Journey of Remembering
I’ve learned that my most vibrant creations come from co-creation with the crystals and the spirit realms. It’s not just about the knots or the beads—it’s about listening to the soul of the materials, to the whispers of the keepers of each crystal, and to the language of light codes that wants to weave itself into physical form.
I remember the first time I truly surrendered to this flow. It wasn’t about following a pattern or fulfilling a request. It was pure guided creation—listening, feeling, allowing the spirits to move through me. At first, the designs felt imperfect, yet they carried a resonance that was undeniable. Over time, I’ve come to trust that this intuitive, energetic collaboration creates pieces that are flawless in their own way, without doubt or hesitation.
My creative flow isn’t about flawless knots or perfect symmetry. It’s about honoring the natural conversation between the crystals, the colors, the threads, my own spirit, and the unseen realms guiding me.
🌿 How I Move From Stagnation to Flow
When I sense stagnation creeping in, I’ve learned to:
✨ Breathe and Pause – I set the project down, close my eyes, and ground myself. I ask: "Is it me, or is it you?" Repeating this multiple times. The you is anything or anyone that is influencing outside of me.
✨ Reclaim My Intention – I remember why I create—not to meet expectations but to channel authentic energy and expression. I remind myself that my knots hold intention and connection, not obligation.
✨ Establish Boundaries – While custom orders can be beautiful, I’ve learned to set energetic boundaries. If a request feels misaligned or intrusive, I give myself permission to step back. My most aligned pieces are born from soul guidance, not external direction.
✨ Reconnect With the Source – I hold a crystal, feel its pulse, and listen for its story. Sometimes I step outside, ground with the earth, clear my space, and wait for inspiration to return on its own terms.
🌿 A Gentle Invitation
As an artist, I no longer see creative blocks as walls, but as invitations—reminders to pause, to listen, and to honor the natural rhythm of creation. They’re signals to reconnect with the crystals, the earth, the spirit guides, and the deeper initiations waiting to be acknowledged.
So if you, too, feel the flow slipping away, remember: it’s still there. It waits for you in the stillness, in the quiet whispers of crystal keepers, in the space between knots, and in the breath you take before returning to the worktable.
This is my journey. One knot, one breath, one crystal’s whisper at a time.