In Week 11 of The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron suggests creating a sacred space of your own—an altar for your artist self. A place that honours who I am creatively and emotionally? That felt worth exploring.

I already had a three-tier glass shelf that I wasn't using, so this week, I gave it new energy. I rearranged and redecorated it with intention. It’s not a shrine to my artist identity—it’s a mirror to my whole self.

Cameron’s original list includes all kinds of suggestions: a photo of your younger self, affirmations, candles, favourite creative tools, and small spiritual tokens. But what she really encourages is building a space that evolves with you.

Here’s what’s on mine:

• A kindergarten class photo—to reconnect with the child in me who was already feeling, already creating.
• A few of my paint-night creations. I’m not a painter—but I am a playful creator, and these canvases came from Artist Date nights I planned for myself to spark joy and creativity.
• My two children’s books: 10 Little Life Lessons, and a custom story I wrote and designed for my great-niece Emma, featuring her as the main character. One is my legacy, the other was a gift of love.
• A plant with a tiny sign that reads, “The root of all happiness is gratefulness.” Preach.
• A paw print from Huny, the dog who rescued me just as much as I rescued him.
• A stone Buddha face—chipped, imperfect, grounded. Like me.
• A decorative box that holds space for something I’ll talk more about in the next blog. Let’s just say it has to do with letting go.

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It’s not just a space for creativity. It’s a space for remembering. For gratitude. For becoming.

As Mother’s Day approaches, I’ve been spending time with my journal — reflecting on the women who came before me, not for what they shared, but for all the things they never said out loud. My mother’s generation didn’t talk about trauma or pain. They minimized it, buried it, and moved on — believing silence was strength and vulnerability was weakness.

My mom passed in December 2021, and though we never spoke much about her past, I’ve come to recognize how much she carried alone. That kind of quiet endurance shaped so many women of her time — taught to keep the peace, to keep going, and to keep secrets.

In The Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron reminds us that writing can be a spiritual practice — a way to clear the mind and release what’s been stored within us. It isn’t about fixing the past; it’s about making space for truth. Through journaling, I’m learning that release doesn’t always mean resolution. Sometimes it simply means letting what’s heavy find a place to land on the page.
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Mother’s Day can stir up many things — gratitude, grief, or simply reflection. This year, I’m choosing quiet acknowledgment: for the women who carried what they couldn’t say, and for the ones learning to let it go, one honest page at a time.