I believe in the power of stories, their ability to tap into humanity and nourish the spirit. I also believe in love—and not just the grand gesture, hot air balloon ride under the Northern Lights, Oscar-worthy-performance kind of love. I believe in the kind of love that knows how you take your coffee, the kind that is made of slow dances in the kitchen and whose arms feel like home—that small, quiet, human kind of love that shakes the soul and awakens the heart to this ordinary, extraordinary life.
One of the finest blessings of my life has been to witness the marriage of my parents. Thirty plus years has seen them through four children and as many homes, an international move, several jobs, and endless home improvement projects. With those decades of love and loss—they still kiss in the kitchen, they still hold hands in department stores, they’re not afraid to fight… they’ve loved and love still. And it all started on a sunny August day in 1985… where my mother was heinously late to her own wedding and my father thought he’d been left at the altar. It’s a picture of imperfectly perfect love that I carry with me in life, love, and livelihood.
Stories are a part of us—we live them every day, and there is such tender beauty in a life well lived and well loved. It is my hope that in The White Wren, you would find stories and imagery with this same sort of authenticity and timelessness. I hope it pulls at your heart, and inspires you to create a beautiful legacy of your own—and maybe, we will be so blessed as to tell your story some day soon.
With great love and such joy,