Mackenzi

Throughout my adult life, I've carried a recurring feeling of misalignment and, at times, self-neglect. I love my work, my routines, and the responsibilities that fill my days, but there has been a part of myself—my creativity, curiosity, and sense of play—that I've struggled to make an honest amount of space for. As I've befriended and listened to that frustration, I've found myself on a larger journey of recommitting to those parts of myself. Deciding to go on a VAWAA was a natural extension of this. While I was certainly eager to deepen my ceramics and natural dyeing practice, at the heart of my decision was a desire to show myself that my creativity was worthy of my time, attention, and investment. While I consciously believe that nurturing our creativity is not a selfish act but an essential part of being human, I deeply needed to give myself more opportunities to experience that truth in my body. I wanted to walk away with a stronger foundation of trust in my own creativity, a deeper connection to my intuition, and the confidence to continue making space for these parts of myself once I returned home.

What I gained from this experience was both tangible and intangible, much of which I suspect I'll continue to uncover as time goes on. Creatively, it helped me break down fears and limitations that I hadn't even realized were shaping the way I approached making. As difficult as it was to admit to myself, before this experience I was often far more focused on the outcome than the process. I cared more about creating something “good” than giving myself permission to play, experiment, make mistakes, learn, and simply enjoy the act of making. 

Watching Majo, an artist I deeply admire, approach her work with such flexibility, curiosity, and forgiveness, shifted something in my brain. I now create with such a pleasurable sense of freedom, and guess what, I’ve never been more proud of what I create. Breaking free from that self-inflicted pressure was worth the trip alone. On top of this, I left with a renewed sense of clarity about the life I want to continue building for myself. For a long time, I treated creativity as something I could get to once everything else was done. It lived at the bottom of the to-do list, waiting for a version of life where there was more time, more energy, or fewer responsibilities. This experience helped me cement the belief that creativity and play are not rewards for being productive. They are essential parts of being human.

I returned home feeling more grounded in myself, more certain of what matters to me, and more committed to building a life that reflects those values. There is an undeniable shift in the way I move through the world now. I trust myself more. I follow my curiosity more. Perhaps most importantly, I no longer see creativity as something I need to justify or earn. It has a rightful place in my everyday life simply because it is part of who I am, it’s part of who we all are.