I’m a creator, a collector, and a curator of life’s beautiful imperfections. I make things—block prints, bread, quilts, paintings, and unruly gardens—and I’m drawn to the handmade, the slightly wonky, the unusual, and the organic. I find magic in flea markets, antique warehouses, and charity shops, where the stories of old things call to me. I believe floss is essential and fascism is intolerable. I’m the kind of person who never twists lids all the way tight and would rather post a postcard than an update.
My story begins on a ranch in Big Sur, California, where I was born and raised among llamas, peacocks, goats, and wildflowers. Our home was filled with wooden shelves stacked with books and walls crowded with art. It was a charmed childhood—running naked in sprinklers, hiding in the hollows of redwoods—but like any life, it was also flawed and messy.
I was shaped by two extraordinary grandmothers. One was a fiercely independent immigrant who lived in an aviary filled with parrots, listened to Edith Piaf records, and taught me how to listen, communicate without words, and create. The other was a cultured feminist who escaped her Main Line upbringing to paint, study architecture, and live the bohemian dream in coastal California. She instilled in me the value of education, the courage to raise my hand, and the refusal to let anyone tell me I couldn’t do something.
I studied in the Bay Area at UC Berkeley and Cal State East Bay, and I built a career as a clinician, working in various clinics and organizations before starting my own private practice. But curiosity called, and I answered. I packed up my San Francisco apartment and moved to Australia. Then Italy. Then France. Now, I daydream about Japan and Singapore. I’m a traveler who’s afraid of flying—but I’ll never let it stop me. I keep booking the tickets.
I believe love comes in many forms. While we often idealize romantic love, there are countless other relationships that shape and enrich our lives. I also believe there are many ways to live a full and meaningful life—marriage and children may be part of it, but they don’t have to be. It can be hard to know if you’re on the “right path” when no one else’s journey has ever looked like yours.
That’s where I come in. I specialize in working with intelligent, creative, uncommon people—expats, dreamers who can’t sleep, bohemians stuck in business suits, brokenhearted romantics, and anyone who might feel like they have woken up in the wrong life or next to the wrong person. I’ve always been a gifted navigator, and now I chart courses for the rudderless sailors out at sea from my sun-drenched port with good Wi-Fi. I will help you find your way.
Let’s create a life that feels as unique and extraordinary as you are.