It can be found in galleries and shops, museums and attics, yes. It can also be found in textiles, in the pages of vintage books, on your own scratch paper, in your camera roll.

Outside, spring sun and spring rain have fallen in turn; inside, notes, sketches, concepts, and ideas have fallen to scratch paper, computer screen, and drafting board.

Dreaming and scheming from here, lately (and if I’m being honest, from the bed and the sofa, too, as I’ve work/rested my way through a recent late winter illness). Working one thing out, then another, steadily, and what feels slowly at times, making my way through projects big and small.

When the work, words, home, style, or talents of someone else makes your breath catch, stirs a longing, or causes you to lean in with curiosity, this is simply part of them reflecting part of you.

Zipped pouches here, handbags there. Clogs in this one, flats in that one. Leather belts rolled and tucked alongside folded jeans. Scarves hanging from a hoop, hoop hanging from the closet rod.

Remember when we were little and our favorite places were those that were tucked away and right-sized for our size?