20/05/2026
What is the most important thing for you in times like these?
For me, as it turns out, it’s not losing yourself while still allowing yourself to change. And that’s the hardest part.
Especially when everything you’re used to, and even the way you’ve seen yourself, suddenly no longer works.
In those moments, you don’t make big plans. You just try to get through the day. And then one day you realise you’re no longer dreaming. It feels like the bottom. I’m sure many here are going through, or have gone through, something like this.
Faith in God helps a lot. And lately I also often think about my ancestors - people who endured so much, and because of whom I have the privilege of even speaking to you today. The thought, “I don’t have the right to let them down,” is what helps me rise again.
And so I continue: to sew, to listen, to speak, to show, to learn, to breathe out, to believe, to hope.
Manual work also helps me find peace. I think every maker understands this feeling—the joy of seeing people use what you’ve created for years. It’s deeply fulfilling.
Sewing just for sake of sewing is not a thing for me. I love to know that it makes someone’s life better. Also, it challenges the brain, gives a clear goal and process, and a result you can touch.
I’ve also discovered sourdough bread. Working with dough feels very similar to life - alive and never the same twice. But unlike sewing, here you’re dealing with a living culture you need to understand, befriend, and negotiate with.
All of this teaches patience. Because in reality, accepting an imperfect result is much harder than it sounds in theory.
Now I’m slowly learning to let go of perfectionism and other people’s expectations, and to simply show things as they are with the process and reality of mistakes, but in the professional studio with the perfect setup, as it used to be in the parallel universe.
I share the result even when it’s “burned” or crooked. And that’s okay. Some people won’t like it and that’s okay too. I’m no longer upset about it.
Because life would be completely uninteresting if it were perfect, or always exactly how we want it to be. Wouldn’t it?
