Field Notes No. 01
Talking to my 70-year-old self, wisdom from Lenny Kravitz’s bedroom, noticing beauty in microgreens
Field Notes are where I share the small moments, quiet observations, and simple joys that are shaping my creative health and personal replenishment. It’s like having an inside peek into my journal.
Come poke around. And if this stirs something in you, I’d love to hear. Drop a comment or reply back. What’s been changing the air for you?
🌼 A little beauty
The garden roses at Trader Joe’s this week were particularly plush. So big and fluffy and lush. The kind that make you pause and think, “How does Mother Nature do it?!”
I built an arrangement around them, tucking in spray roses and ranunculus until it looked like something you'd see at a wedding. Definitely a little over-the-top for my desk… but then again, why shouldn’t I have an extravagant bouquet just because?
🧠 Creative health in the wild
Attention is its own kind of creativity. The more you look for what’s beautiful or interesting, the more you find. Here’s what I noticed this week:
The clouds — big and pillowy against the bluest sky
My nephew’s energy lighting up a stranger at the park (“He has such positive energy!” 🥹)
My niece pointing out that our microgreens were shaped like hearts 💚
💭 A thought I’m still carrying
Lenny Kravitz invited Architectural Digest into his Paris home and it turned out to be quite a profound house tour!
There were quite a few quotes that made me pause, but I wanted to highlight this one in particular. Sitting in his bedroom he said:
“It’s a gift to be able to sleep peacefully every night. The word ‘recreation’ is re-creation. When you’re an artist, to be able to continually be inspired you have to continually recreate so that you can be vibrating at the frequency you need to be able to pick up the things that you’re being transmitted. I’m just an antennae. I don’t this (music, design, etc.), it comes to me. This room provides that space for me to be able to close the doors and recreate myself on a daily basis.”
It made me think about what it means to receive creative inspiration — not by forcing it, but by becoming someone who’s available to it. And how important it is to design a life (and a room!) that supports that.
💬 In conversation
I came across a poem this week by Molly Burford called “Things I wish I could ask my 70-year-old self.” It stopped me in my scroll.
It made me wonder what questions I would ask my future self. At first I tried to write my own poem, but then I realized I was letting pressure, perfectionism, and trying drive my pen (which is the opposite of creativity). Instead, I just let my own questions arise without structure or polish.
Here’s what surfaced:
💬 What would you ask your 70-year-old self? Tell me in the comments.
I love this <3 The "does it get better? And did I even notice" hits home on the list of things I'd ask my 70 year old self