Daily Writing Prompt: What’s something you’ve done that your past self would be proud of?

When I think about my past self, I think of a little girl wandering through her grandmother’s garden, convinced she had stumbled into something magical. Every flower seemed to hold a secret. Every winding path led somewhere worth exploring.

I think of the nine-year-old girl who gathered fallen leaves after Hurricane Katrina and arranged them into “art” she hoped to sell. Not because anyone asked her to, but because helping felt important when so much had been lost. 

If you had told that little girl that one day she would build something of her own, I don’t think she would have believed you. 

After all, we’re never promised tomorrow.

Years later, in the middle of ordinary adulthood, a book found me: Show Your Work! by Austin Kleon. One line stayed with me:

“Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.”

It sounded simple. It wasn’t. 
Because sometimes “where you are” is a kitchen table.
Sometimes “what you have” is a couple of quiet hours after a full day of work and a long commute home.
Sometimes “doing what you can” means beginning long before you feel ready.

But I started anyway.

The parts people see are the preserved bouquets, the finished pieces, the little studio slowly taking shape.

The parts they don’t see are the evenings spent at this table.
The questions. The trial and error.
The tears nearly escaping tired eyes as they reflect upon the celebrations – and losses – of those who entrusted their flowers to the studio.
The moments of wondering whether any of it would become real. And even if it did, could I handle it with my full-time job, MBA classes, and normal adult responsibilities?

This kitchen table came to me as a gift from a friend when I moved into this house. It’s where my family shares meals. Now it’s where Oak & Vine lives, too. 

It’s where blooms are pressed.
Where inquiries are answered.
Where ideas move from notebook pages into something tangible.
Where real memories are transformed into lasting heirlooms. 

And sometimes, when I’m sitting here working late, I think about that little girl from the garden.
The one who gathered leaves and tried to give them a second life. 
Turns out she never really stopped.

She’s still creating from what she has.

She’s just working with flowers now.  💐

P.S. I still need another frame to balance out the wall above the table. If you have ideas for what kind of pressed-flower frame belongs there, I’m all ears.