The world would have you believe that you are somehow behind and that your best years are all but a distant memory, lost to a time gone by.I love nothing more than to ignore this notion by investing in the quiet but passionate reinvention of broken, tired and forgotten things; whether that’s transforming an old object, a worn piece of furniture, an unloved space or by healing the brokenness that resides somewhere deep within myself. I can’t help but be inspired to breathe new life in.I am not a builder or a carpenter nor do I possess any special qualifications that make me perfect for the job of fixing. But what I do have are years of seeing the hidden potential in my own imperfections; feelings of not being good enough, of being overlooked, of feeling misunderstood, of believing in the quiet taunts of others and taking those negative experiences and turning them into an unwavering curiosity to learn, grow and evolve for the better.In another life I went by the name of 'stylist' but these days I am more proud of the fact that I am largely self-taught, self-affirmed and self-styled. My styling abilities come from believing in my own vision, moving things around and enjoying how pieces look, fit and flow together in my home. If you can visualise, have fun and maintain an open mind and sense of intrigue, this is a skill you too can grow.I am not a fast mover but thankfully I now understand the magic of presence which can only be found in taking your time and trusting in your own unique process.You are never too late.Life isn’t a race or something to be chased down or won. It is something to be savoured and enjoyed. It is hard, painful and tiring at times but even those experiences can be uplifting and expansive if you are willing to believe that you can burn brighter than the hardships you’ve endured.At the very least, I hope you’ll find inspiration in something I’ve made and at best may you forever see the beauty in your own becoming.
Love always,Erena

What it is that I do:

SLOW DESIGN: Projects shaped by patience rather than pressure.


THE ORDINARY REIMAGINED: Overlooked and preloved things seen with fresh eyes.


CREATING AS A WAY BACK TO SELF: Making not to produce but to remember who we are beneath the noise.


A QUIETER RHYTHM: No hacks. No quick fixes. Just space to breathe and begin.

When the world goes fast, I keep it slow.


I believe good things aren’t created overnight. There’s no one size fits all way to make or live just curiosity, attentiveness, and the willingness to start with what’s already in front of you, whatever that might be.I’m drawn to the small details, the forgotten corners, the objects with a bit of history still left in them.Through making, I reconnect with the side of myself that doesn't take life too seriously. I invite you to play and do the same, in your own way.

More than Numbers

A flower does not think of competing with the flower next to it. It just blooms – Zen Shin

You are more than the sum of the people who like you today who won't like you tomorrow.

Your life will be riddled with numbers that disguise themselves as a measure of your worth. Most of which aren't and don't even matter.

You will be asked to measure yourself in numbers.

Your age, your size, your wealth, your following.

To some people and even at times to you those numbers become the standard for which you'll measure success by.

There'll even be a number for the things you shouldn't care about but somehow need to know. Your potential reach, your level of engagement, the effectiveness of your message.

And if people say nothing you'll assign a number to their silence.

You will be encouraged to live alongside these numbers, sometimes in harmony but mostly in conflict with these numbers and you will need to stop yourself from pouring over them.

Because all those little numbers will manifest an unquenchable thirst for how can I's.

How can I be better, how can I have more…numbers in my life.

Numbers of things, of followers, of likes, of dollars...

Numbers that don't really mean anything.

You are so much more than the numbers that try to give your life meaning and that like to tell you that you are only worth so much.

The thing you can't know and won't see is your impact, your intangible worth.

It is the thing that no one can put a number on because it doesn't exist inside an age or a like or some other external measure of your value.

Call it your gut instinct or your inner knowing.

It is the part of you that knows without so much as a second thought that you are worth more than any number bestowed upon you by someone or something else.

Stop looking for a number to measure yourself by.

Trust in your worth.

Believe in it.

Don't ask others to give their opinion on your worth.

They don't know you like you know yourself.

My worth is not a number.
Your worth is not a number.

We are all infinitely great.

Love note to self

Embrace your quirks.


As in, those random little things that make you, you.


They might be things that when you were younger you tried to hide or promised yourself you'd change as soon you could but time has made you less inclined to lose them.


In fact, time has made you come to love them.


Birthmarks, freckles, weird little spots. Sure some may have come from too much sun or lack of care but a lesson springs from each and every one. Scars and funny belly buttons tell stories of babies birthed or mistakes made or things survived.


Age doesn't limit you. It smartens you up to the things that give you life. The things that you know without a doubt work really well for you because you've been there, tried that.


Perhaps it's a shade of lipstick or sweep of shadow that brings you out of your shell without hiding who you are or it's a shirt that falls a certain way because of the shape you allow it to have.


It's a treasured piece that you give life to with your story.


Your laugh, your frown, your smile, your gaze.
Your humour, your confidence, your strength. Your wit.


Your compassion. Your vulnerability.


Find a way to express more of that and you will shine brightly in your own way.


Things don't make us unique or complete.


It is your unique experience that manifests as a thought or idea that can be shared with others.


Your point of view.


Your way.


Love who you are.

Growing too fast

If you could just learn to walk you wouldn't be so heavy.


If you could just tell me what you wanted to eat I wouldn't waste so much food.


If you could just understand that I won't take very long you might wait for me a bit longer.


Sometimes, I catch myself wanting to speed up time and if only for a moment thinking to myself if you were just that little bit older….


These were the thoughts I had when my son was less than a year old and they are a great lesson in moments and progression and of thinking too much about a time that will and has long since come to pass.


You cry but for things that I now know the remedies to or most of them.


I am clued up and more equipped now that you are older and I find myself staring at you then looking back at pictures of the baby you once were and thinking, how did this happen? When did you get so big?


But still, we can't go back.


We are where we need to be and if we need to be any further along on our journey it is only, if I'm completely honest, to make my life easier or to allow me more sleep or to make my trying day go a little bit faster.


But you are here to teach me patience.


To teach me what it means to switch off. To let go. To stop thinking too much and too intently about things that don't really matter and get back to the heart of the matter, that is You.


You growing up is the reality of what I thought I wanted coming to pass much sooner than even I thought or at times even wished it would.


There are so many things to love about every age and stage of being a parent but wishing away the sour stuff is inviting the sweet stuff to pass by just as quickly.


And actually, I want it all.


The hard times that teach me that I still have so much to learn and the good times that I cling to for when I am no longer your favourite place.


You are a mystery. You are my sweet not-so-little-anymore mystery.


The future will be here soon enough so I will appreciate that you are mine today.

A year of motherhood

I know that one year of motherhood does not a parenting expert make but it seems fitting that at this point I lay down some wisdom if only for my own eyes to look back upon.


On newfound parenthood and strengthening a relationship


Becoming a parent is wonderful but it is tough and it is very lonely at times.


It can be hard on a relationship when you're both tired. A part of you wants to keep score, asking who is doing their fair share?


In the light of day these things seem trivial but you know that little things can become big things and so you talk about them and find balance in compromise.


You learn to play to each others strengths and to get out of the house more often both together and alone.


On listening to others advice on mothering


At first you'll absorb all that you can because parenting is a foreign subject and you'll be eager to please and keen to do as everyone else does.


But then you realise that your baby is unique and your needs are too and so you learn to let go of expectations, both yours and others. Doing away with the things that don't work and making your own mind up about the things that do.


You find your groove somewhere between tradition, necessity and intuition and create your own dance caring less and less if anyone sees or agrees.


On looking after you as well as yours


Self care is important.


As much as your child is your everything that Snickers bar at the end of the day will not sustain you and it could also explain why you are anaemic (personally speaking).


Which brings me to my next realisation. Talk. Find people who will listen without judgement. You'll know them as the ones who fill your own awkward admissions with their all too familiar struggles. They're also the ones who'll share a great tip and lend you a nappy if you forget to bring one.


But above all, talking to others gets you out of your own head which at times can be overwhelming and self-sabotaging. The simple act of talking to someone, other than doctor Google can spark your own intuition because often, it was there all along and just like that you remember that you've got this.


On motherhood one year on


I remember being told that 9 months was a good age but I know there is a case for every age because quite simply, your love grows with your child.


There is something to learn or navigate at every age but there is so much to love too.


Costa at 1 is cheeky, witty and full-on at times but he is also quiet and caring and oh those nuzzling-in, snuggling in, weary-eyed cuddles.


There'll always be a place on my shoulder for them.

Never stop starting

The start of the year is always a little bit jolty and by that I mean it starts with a bang and then stops.


January feels like it ought to be a good time to get my head in the game but then February…February still feels like a warm up. A practice run before I find that steady and reliable rhythm that says now I'm in control..or am I?


Because when are we ever in control?


I remember seeing a sign on the back of a truck once that read 'life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it' and given the way my life has unfolded I wish that I could drive behind that truck every single day to remind myself that life is all about how I approach it.


You've got to start somewhere, even if it isn't perfect.


January 1st is a convenient place to start but so is February and March and June and any other month that you decide you want to start over.


Hold yourself to starting one step at a time and never stop.

This too shall pass

Life is just a series of moments and we are building moments together.


Most I will love, some I will hate but I am building moments with you.


Last night I could have found you trying. I could have seen your awakeness as a sign of frustration and your cries as an unhelpful end to a tiring day.


I could have wished to be somewhere else or someone else.


I could have given up or given in.


But on this night I wasn't deflated or defeated. I had nowhere to be and if I did it didn't matter. All I knew was that you needed me close and I was clever enough to embrace it.


In the darkness of our quiet little room I picked you up and snuggled you in. I let go of frustration and misplaced resentment to realise what this was.


The most precious of moments between a mother and her baby.


Where I am the simple answer.


I watch with arms cradled as you search my face with tiny fingers and all I can think of is how nice this is. Just you, just me, just us two.


We spend most of our lives wanting to be loved by someone who needs it just as much. A child's love is to take that 'need' and want for nothing.


For on this night, in this moment I am your cure and you are mine.

A feather on my pillow

I have come to find a lot of strength in the smallest of symbols.


You'll know by now that I have a thing for feathers. I hadn't happened across one in a while so when I woke up to find a feather on my pillow albeit the teeniest tiniest of feathers, it was a comforting reminder to reflect and remain hopeful.


If I have learnt anything these past few years it is that nothing will get better unless I do.


There will always be someone who will tell you no and hold you back from doing what you are meant to be doing but in my experience most of the time that person is me or rather, my own self doubt.


Whenever I falter it is generally because I have become immersed in the pursuits of others and forgotten about myself and remembering that I am on my own journey.


And if ever I lose sight of what that is, I'll immerse myself in something I absolutely love to do which isn't necessarily the thing I do for work but a hobby, craft or passion project.


Whenever I do this I find that fresh ideas come to light, things start to align and new doors start to open.

I lost my baby but I'm ok

11 years ago


Today the courier guy noticed I was finally at the door to sign for a parcel. He doesn't normally talk to me but he looked at me, smiled and said 'You've had your baby?'


Cue awkward silence…


I politely smiled and explained that yes I had but sadly she wasn't with us anymore. In that awkward moment while he was wishing the world would swallow him up I suddenly realised that I felt really bad for him because I on the other hand, well I was okay.


Sure, I haven't been great for a while but that's to be expected in the wake of a loss like mine but I've made peace with losing my precious Penny and here are a few reasons why:


1. I am not the only one who has lost a child, people suffer this or worse every day


2. I've gained a whole new perspective on life and what is most important


3. I love and appreciate my family, friends and my husband even more


4. If I'd had Penny long enough to really know her I probably wouldn't be able to let her go


5. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, sad but I know this to be true


When loved ones leave us I think that if you're open-minded they'll leave you little reminders to let you know their around, like the feathers that turn up on Penny's grave when we visit or the Monarch butterflies that fly by as if out of nowhere, call me crazy but I like to think its her saying 'Hey Mum, it's me, I'm okay'.


This doesn't mean that there won't be days when getting out of bed will feel pointless or that I won't read this back tomorrow and cry my eyes out because occasionally I will but for the odd days when I feel hopeless they'll be a dozen more that will feel positively uplifting and for that I'm grateful.


Penny, there isn't a single moment in every hour of every day that I don’t think of you, play a song for you and wish you were here but I think you know this and sometimes I think you are there. Like a shadow or a tiny inaudible voice inside willing me to keep going and keep my head up.


And so despite all I've lost I can carry on with you in my heart and somehow I think yeah, everything will be okay.


Rest in peace baby girl