Journal
Why You Should Stop Feeling Guilty About Your Unfinished Craft Projects
Every creative person I know has a cupboard full of works in progress. Embroidery kits barely started. Sweater backs waiting for sleeves. A stack of patchwork squares pinned with the best intentions.
And far too often, that cupboard also contains guilt.
One of the most resonant threads to come out of the About Time masterclass last week was this exact issue—abandoned projects and the self-blame that goes with them. So in this week’s video, I’m unpacking that idea, and offering a different perspective
You can watch the full masterclass here
Replays of About Time are available until the end of June 2025.
Why We Feel Like Quitters
So many of us carry this narrative: “I never finish anything.” It’s more than a complaint—it’s a judgement. A perceived failure of discipline or character.
But what if it isn’t personal?
Most of us grew up in a culture where sticking it out was the virtue. You chose a career early and stayed the course. Commitment was praised. Changing your mind wasn’t.
In that world, finishing meant success. So it makes sense that we’ve internalised the idea that stopping—or changing course—is shameful.
But here’s the truth: the world has changed. The way we work, create, and live is unrecognisable compared to that 40-year-job-for-life model. What looks like “not finishing” might actually be evolving. Listening. Choosing better.
The Beauty of Starting
There’s also a lot to love about starting.
Starting something new means curiosity is alive. Starting takes courage. Starting is creative.
We don’t expect every artist to turn every sketch into a masterpiece. We don’t expect every seed to grow. So why should our crafts be any different?
Half-finished doesn’t mean failed. It means you were open to trying.
Let’s Talk About Sunk Costs
Another layer of guilt comes from all the money and time we’ve “wasted.” That’s sunk cost thinking—and it’s poison to creativity.
Yes, you bought the yarn. Yes, you started the project. But if it no longer serves you, that doesn’t mean it was a mistake. It was part of your journey. It taught you something. Even if all it taught you was that you don’t enjoy that stitch.
Sunk costs aren’t proof of failure. They’re the artefacts of a creative life.
What To Do With All That Stuff
The problem isn’t the unfinished projects themselves—it’s what we do with them. If they live in a cupboard whispering guilt and self-doubt, that’s a problem.
But if we bring them into the light, talk about them, repurpose them, or even pass them on—they become something else entirely. They become part of our story.
That’s what we’re doing inside The Studio this summer.
From July to August, we’re taking a break from new tutorials and using the time to revisit, reclaim, and reimagine what’s already here. That includes stash deep-dives, shared stories of UFOs (unfinished objects), and making space—for finishing, repurposing, or releasing.
No shame. No pressure. Just creative honesty
If you want to be part of that conversation, you can join The Studio here. Supported places are available.
Why We Buy the Craft Kits But Never Open Them
Next week, I turn 56.
And here’s the surprising part: I’ve never been more excited about a birthday.
Because my 55th year? It has changed me.
Not in the big, dramatic, life-overhaul kind of way. But in quiet, insistent whispers — the kind that don’t go away.
A few weeks ago, I was out with a group of friends — all fellow Taureans and early summer babies — and, as the cake dwindled and the last drops of wine warmed in our glasses, someone asked a question.
“What’s your birthday wish this year?”
Not the bucket-list kind.
The soft, secret kind.
The ones we barely admit to ourselves.
“I wish I could play music again.”
“I wish I had time to paint.”
“I wish I didn’t feel guilty for wanting more.”
One by one, every woman around the table lit up when she spoke about what she used to do. Long ago. Sometimes decades ago.
And then we all fell quiet.
Because none of us could quite explain . . . . why exactly we weren’t doing those things now.
That conversation stayed with me. Not just because it was tender — but because it felt familiar. Far too familiar.
And it made something crystal clear.
My birthday wish for 56 isn’t just about me anymore.
It’s a mission. I am on a quiet, determined mission.
I want to help more women close the gap between what they long for and what they allow.
Between the half-finished scarf neglected in a basket by the sofa . . . and the quiet thrill of actually wearing it out into the world.
Because the issue isn’t that we’ve lost our desire to create at all.
It’s that somewhere along the way, we learned to sacrifice expression in the name of usefulness.
We keep the kits neatly stacked on shelves.
We save the tutorials to Pinterest.
We help others finish their beautiful projects.
But our own? They wait. And wait. And wait.
I remember one woman telling me she bought one of my craft kits.
It had been two years ago, it was still in a cupboard unopened.
She wanted to make it — truly, she did, you could hear almost loss in her voice.
But she couldn’t find two uninterrupted hours just for herself.
Not because she didn’t care.
But because she’s generous. Devoted.
Loyal — to everyone but her own longing.
And that’s what struck me most.
The guilt we carry? It isn’t because we’re lazy or disorganised, that we procrastinate, never finish anything.
It’s because we’re doing everything else.
We’re so good at being everything for everyone that we forget to be something for ourselves.
So this is what turning 56 looks like for me:
Helping women reclaim that creative pulse inside them — the one that never truly went away.
Helping them move from the quiet nudge… to the bold brushstroke.
From “maybe one day”… to “today, actually.”
And I’m starting with a gift.
It’s a free masterclass I’m calling About Time.
It’s happening on 12th June at 11am, and yes — there will be a replay if you can’t make it live.
We’ll talk about how we leak time without even noticing.
How to gently pull it back.
And how to finally put you back on your own to do list.
Because your creativity isn’t optional.
It’s sacred.
And it’s time.
Life as an Experiment: How I Reclaimed My Brain, Body, and Joy With Two Simple Daily Habits
The Year I Simplified Everything
Each January, I choose something to work on — not as a goal, but as a kind of companion. This year’s was to simplify. It came to me in a tangle of brain fog, unread books, forgotten names, and a studio that seemed to sigh under the weight of cluttered drawers.
Focus was elusive. My memory frayed. Tasks started but not finished littered my day like breadcrumbs with no trail. Part of me whispered: something is wrong. Another part said: maybe this is just the shape of now.
And then — a podcast, of all things. Neuroscientist Wendy Suzuki, with her calm, bright voice, explaining that our fog isn’t always hormonal or neurological. Sometimes, it’s just a lack of movement. A brain too full, and a body too still.
Her prescription? Not boot camps. Not transformation. Just 45 minutes of brisk walking a day.
That felt possible. Even … inviting.
So I began.
My Simplicity Experiment Month One
Each year for the past three years I have sat at the Winter Solstice and chosen an aspect of my life to focus on over the next 13 moons.
In 2023 it was finding freedom - changing my business and life around so that I felt more free, something that culminated in working from Naples for a month this time last year.
In 2024 it was my health - I have an auto immune disease and there isn’t much that I can do about that, but I wanted to see what I did have control over. I’ve talked about the transformation here.
This year is all about simplifying. I began with working out what a simpler life means to me - to winkle out what it was I’m craving. It was blank sheets, space for creativity and above all focus.
Like many people I have found that my ability to focus has declined over the past few years. I find it difficult to sit with a book and read for any length of time, unless I’m in a cinema my mind wanders through movies, even walking without checking my phone is a problem.
For that is what it is - I have let my phone become a pull on my attention, a siren call calling me to check for messages, to google something, to spend a ‘few minutes’ scrolling. I’ve been trying to curb this - it is off at the weekends - but I knew that this, my relationship with my phone, was where I needed to start.
I talk about what I have been doing, the experiments and the results in this video. What worked, what didn’t and what I am going to incorporate into my life.
The Health Benefits of my Trip to Naples
If you read biographies of C19th and early C20th writers and artists, you will soon notice that they seem to be always heading off to Europe for a 'rest cure'. Some time away, sometimes in a spa town but more often not, a change of scene, some sunshine, a couple of weeks away from routine.
In the 1990s, under the fundholding scheme when GPs could manage their budgets according to their patients' circumstances, one Scottish doctor prescribed holidays for his patients, seeing their long term health improve, their medication needs reduce.
My trip to Naples turned out to be just that kind of rest cure. I felt it - the fuzzy, happy energy that you get as you relax - but I also got, out of the blue physical stats to back it up.
For my Christmas I was given an Apple Watch - it was mainly so that I could use it as a remote viewfinder for my filming, but it also came in useful as a step counter and sat nav. Three weeks into my time in Naples it buzzed - it had a new health report - and there, on my phone, was a whole load of stats about things that I hadn't even known it was measuring.
I won't bore you with all the numbers - but suffice to say that everything measurable had got better.
Improvements in my health were physically detectable in just three weeks.
Three weeks of listening to my body, resting, taking gentle exercise. This was not a boot camp!
And I find that so encouraging. I had always assumed that I needed to make big changes - and, as a vigorous exercise class can leave me exhausted for a week, that seemed impossible.
The challenge will be to bring that nurturing frame of mind, the putting my health first, back to everyday life.
I have made a YouTube film about what I did differently when I was in Naples and how I hope to bring the habit changes home.
RSS