These two images show the painting before and after.

Living with a fluctuating neurological, and mental health condition alongside navigating neurodivergence means that my creative practice doesn’t follow a predictable path or rhythm. I experience fatigue, pain, sensory overwhelm, and emotional shifts that shape how — and when — I can make, decorate, or even think clearly. Over the past year and a half, I’ve had to pause almost everything.

During that time, I reflected deeply on how I want to approach my creative process moving forward. Sustainability has always mattered to me — not just in materials, but in emotional pacing, reuse, and the way I care for my space without rushing to perfect it. I’ve come to see sustainability as something that includes my body, my energy, and my neurodivergent processing. It means moving gently, choosing rest, and working with what I already have.

Recently, I felt a quiet shift. Not a burst of energy, but a soft nudge — a sense that I might be ready to begin again. I wanted to create a space where I could feel at home (even though I am at home). A space that felt comforting while I found my way back to making.

I started with my dining room.

My daughter helped me with the wallpapering — a moment of connection I’ll always treasure. She did most of the work, and together we painted the main wall in a soft, subtle shade of yellow. I painted below and she painted above. It wasn’t perfect. There were mishaps. Most of the walls had lining paper, which we tried to remove, but it quickly became clear that doing so would make things worse. So we paused.

The wallpapered wall wasn’t straight, and there’s a gap at the top that I’m still figuring out. We paused again. Not out of defeat, but out of care for the space. Sometimes the next step isn’t action — it’s reflection.

This space is still in progress. So am I.

The wallpapered wall with a visible gap at the top.

I’m sharing this now, even though it happened a few months ago, because it still holds meaning. It marks the beginning of something — not just a decorating project, but a return to myself. A slow and sustainable re-entry into creative practice, shaped by disability, neurodivergence, and emotional pacing.

If you’re feeling too overwhelmed to create today, that’s okay. Your process will wait for you. Mine did.

Personal Note

This post is shared as part of my personal archive — a reflection on returning to creative practice at my own pace. I live with a fluctuating neurological condition and navigate neurodivergence, which shape how and when I create. My approach is rooted in emotional sustainability, care, and adaptation. I’m not offering services or launching anything at this time — just documenting a moment that helped me begin again.

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