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October 8, 2025

My ballast year, Q4 check-in

what’s shifting, what’s settling, what’s next

Your next ways to work with me:

The orange logo initials of the Museum Computer Network, and the pink tagline "advancing digital transformation in museums"
The red initials logo of the New England Museum Association.
A square graphic in warm pink and red tones with blue accents. It has a logo of a seedling growing inside a circle and the text "SEED Gallery Education Leadership Institute Jan 28-30, 2026"

Museum Computer Network Conference
(Minneapolis, MN
Oct 20-22, 2025)

I’ll be onsite at the Walker Art Center with a team offering some ways to process loss in the museum field, alongside ways to compost that loss into new growth.

New England Museum Association Conference
(Manchester, NH
Nov 5-7, 2025)

With my SEED colleagues, I’ll be presenting the session Humane Management: Taking Care of your Direct Reports.

Ready to step into your full potential as a gallery education leader?

The SEED Gallery Education Leadership Institute is a multi-day, in-person experience, crafted to address the complex realities of managing gallery education programs.

Join us in Minneapolis!
Join us in Manchester!
Join us in Baltimore!

It's been a while since I last wrote, and I've been busy in there. There are updates I'd like to share about work and reading and even how the caterpillar goo is developing, and none of those things seems to fit neatly together into a single theme.

The longer I go with "send newsletter” on my to-do list, the list of updates has only grown more eclectic, and the more intimidating and overwhelming sitting down to write has become.

A circle divided into 8 wedge-shaped areas. Each wedge has a colorful background and a handwritten phrase on it, including "CREATIVE CONSTRAINT" and "RUN AN EXPERIMENT".

So in the spirit of my decision cues wheel, I've given myself some creative constraints to get this out to you.

Constraint 1: ABI (Always Be Illustrating)
For each section of updates I have to share, I'll also give you an image to go along with it. If I don't have a photo, I'll have to get metaphorical about those images.

Constraint 2: KISS (Keep It Short & Sweet)
In the spirit of pecha kucha, I'm setting a timer for each section of this post (including the introduction, here). 12 minutes only to write about each topic. Why 12? Because 10 felt short and 15 felt long, and after all, I get to set my own constraints.

Without further ado, and in no particular order, here's how My Ballast Year is going in early October.


Opening Doors & A New Marketing Voice

I've welcomed a new batch of fellow arts entrepreneurs into CARE!

This was the first time I opened the doors for new registration since I shifted from a seasonal cadence into an ongoing membership.

I'm congratulating myself on learning a whole bunch of marketing business lessons this go round.

I got in on the beta version of the excellent Nicole Cloutier's Open Loop program, which taught me so much helpful framing about how to tell engaging stories before launching.

If you received any of my emails about CARE in September, they were informed by Nicole's process and guidance.

Not only did these stories help more people determine that they wanted to join CARE, they also helped me clarify what CARE is really for and how to talk about that.

When we got to our first session with the new members last week, the honest conversation and communal support shone through. We talked about the fall seasonal archetypes we feel represent us. We broke down how we envisioned our 2025s playing out back at the start of the year, and then how they've actually played out. We talked through where those plans diverged and converged and how we want to align ourselves for the remaining months.

A handwritten timeline of months across a horizontal sheet of white paper. Notated and scrawled across the page are various phrases about 2025's envisioned and actual realities, as well as things I'm calling in for the remaining months of the year.

For the first time, I felt like I was launching an offering with a level of professional communication that felt earnest and true (that part was always there before) and also carefully planned and thoughtfully considered.

The effort of launching doesn't feel so intimidating now that I feel like I've got a method instead of wildly trying whatever I can think of to try and connect with the right people. (Nicole, you’re welcome to stick my name on that testimonial.)


Three Brains, Shared Profits, Abundant Collaboration

Along with my individual work supporting folks, I've also been gearing up to do some collaborative support work with the SEED Trio. Our management training and leadership development continues to be something I'm really proud to offer.

Rebecca, David, and I all miss having colleagues, and we're very happy to be each other's ongoing teammates. Since I started working on my own, I've committed to doing things collaboratively and communally where I can, instead of competing.

Three smiling faces peek out between a forest of gray lamp posts on a sidewalk.

I talk about turning toward an abundance mindset instead of a scarcity one, and the SEED collaborations are truly that. I love how creatively and cleverly we iterate. I love how we share tasks. I love how the combination of three brains coming together gets to things I'd never get to on my own.

SEED has been one way I give back to the museum education field that was my professional training ground.

This past Monday, we hosted a free webinar for educators about how they can retain un(der)paid staff with tangible and intangible benefits.

In January we'll be hosting our multi-day Gallery Education Leadership Institute in Baltimore where museum ed managers can find a cohort of support to help their leadership skills flourish.

And we've got more exciting plans for other offerings in the pipeline.

It's a warm reminder that working outside a single institution lets me work how I want, offering what I want.


The Joy of Reading and Unmarketable Sketches

My annual reading retreat in Northern Maine was as decadent and appreciated this year as it always is.

I set a new record this year, reading 18 books in 3 weeks, and as I always do, I drew a little picture of each book cover. I love my book sketches. They bring me so much joy without any kind of monetizable outcome. And each August I read so much that they get to become a fun gif, too.

An animated gif of a notebook page that slowly fills in a grid with individual drawings of book covers.

I'm shouting out two particular highlights that were my favorites from this year.

The Pretender, Jo Harkin
This is a rollicking, sprawling epic of a historical novel that tells the story of Lambert Simnel a real historical pretender to the throne in Tudor-era England. If you liked Maggie O’Farrell’s Hamnet, I recommend giving this one a try. The protagonist (who goes by several different names throughout the book) has such a charming and compelling voice as he goes from a sweet, naive farm kid to a world-wise cynic steeped in the manipulative games of courtly life. This one's also for my fellow history-of-narrative nerds, as it overtly references and takes the form of a whole selection of different historical novelistic techniques.

Playground, Richard Powers
Did you love The Overstory? This is like that, except about the ocean instead of trees. But it's also about human consciousness and AI and the climate crisis and how play is a central element of human life. It goes both granularly familiar and galaxy-brain big-picture, and somehow manages to connect both those things compellingly.

If you missed it, I made a Notion site for all the books I brought with me to Maine this year. Happy reading!


The Goo Slowly Solidifies

A whole bunch of people wrote to me after I shared my caterpillar goo reality, saying how much they related, how they were in a similar place, and that they were finally able to put words to a feeling they'd had without a name.

My goo phase continues, and I feel like I’m slowly resolidifying myself.

For 2025, My Ballast Year, I gave myself the guiding question "How can I be my own ship and be others' anchor?". For each quarter, I've got a different response to the dual prompt of I am ship and I am anchor. For Q4, that looks like
I am ship: find sunshine / I am anchor: model reflection.

A small bouquet of orange marigolds in a test tube with a late afternoon sunny window behind it. On the window sill are assorted objects including a giant pine cone, a stuffed lamp, and a potted plant.

I'll see how these two prompts influence the coming months for me.

For now, I've come to a recognition that I'm leaving behind the "throwing spaghetti at the wall" phase of my business, where I feel like I've lived for the past few years. I'm composting some offers to reclaim energy to germinate others.

A screenshot from my website of the offer "Reorientation Retreats" overlaid with a text bar reading "Composting this offer to germinate others."

I'm seeing the outlines of what I hope will be a streamlined, sustainable portfolio of projects I can offer that won't make me feel like I'm reinventing the wheel with every new venture, and will still leave me room for new creative possibilities.

The goo is beginning to form a butterfly.


Deleting Apps & Building Supportive Guardrails

That streamlining I mentioned?

It's why I deleted my social media apps from my phone before my August reading retreat and haven't added any of them back. And I don't really miss 'em.

It's why I'm now using Buttondown instead of MailerLite to send emails. It's a platform that does what I need it to do without the visual bells and whistles and complications that meant me spending hours getting my emails to look just right before sending.

A sculpture carved in the shape of a hand supports a thick tree limb in a small grassy area next to a sidewalk.

Knowing that I have a perfectionist tendency to dawdle over details indefinitely, I'm working on making decisions that encourage me to spend the most time on my most meaningful work. That means putting some creative constraint guardrails up for myself, and 2025 has been a year of working with some really helpful professional experts to get those guardrails established.

I've mentioned them before, but I appreciate Nicole's help with marketing (above) and Holly Wielkoszewski's help with tech stack streamlining, and Jenn DePrizio's help to get my decision wheel—and its attendance mindset shifts—in place.

I appreciate Rebecca Magee's help—along with the whole Reimagining Leadership cohort—with focusing how I want to show up as a leader and naming my caterpillar goo phase to begin with.

And I'll have more to say soon about what's coming out of Jessica Abel's help, which has been leading me to build an offering I hope will find its right people when I start testing out its elements in the coming months.

It's been galvanizing to have outside voices helping me figure out what I want to spend my work time on, and how that can—hopefully—support a life that doesn't only revolve around work.


Building ‘Otherwise’ Worlds

So how is My Ballast Year going, here at the start of Q4?

A hand-drawn guide to 2025 in the form of a large set of balancing scales carrying contradicting words. The word BALLAST is written on the central pillar of the scales.
If you missed it, this is the map I made for 2025 back at the start of the year.

Honestly, ballast has been a good word.

In a turbulent year of political fuckery, turning inward has given me a better ability to ride the waves.

As many people are facing much more precarious lives than mine, I've had the space to hone in on what is uniquely mine to invent in the world.

I've been a facilitator and a holder of space for others to share their concerns and challenges; been the ballast that lets other people's boats stay afloat.

I've accepted some self-settling truths:

  • that I can find different satisfactions from different parts of my work

  • that not every project needs to provide the same kind of stimulation

  • that's it's OK to repeat things that work

  • that not every single thing I do needs to be invested with my newest and most revolutionary energies

A single fallen leaf that is green at its heart and a bright scarlet red around the edges.

I've tried to be my best graceful trickster rogue, pirating new solutions to broken systems.

As a beloved former colleague and mentor put it in a recent LinkedIn message, I'm

"building an 'otherwise' world and collecting compatriots to join."

I'm not expecting the remaining months of 2025 to settle down any more than the year has so far, but I do feel well ballasted to meet what they bring.

May we all keep being graceful trickster rogues where we can be, and may you get some ballast where you need it.

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