This weekend, look more closely—at your hobby or craft and at others doing theirs.

Go where people are making or doing:

A garden center.
A park.
A kitchen.
A game table.
A workshop.
A patch of sky shared by many eyes.

©2026 Suzanne Gibbs. Hood River, Oregon 2024.

Watch for a few minutes.

What are people actually doing?
How do they hold their tools?
What do they do first? Next?

Look past the obvious.

Small movements.
Pauses.
Adjustments.
Care.

Then return to your own way of doing.

Try one small shift based on what you saw.

Not to copy. Just to notice what’s possible.

What are you actually doing?
How do you hold your tools?
What do you do first? Next? Why?

Bonus points for:
• seeing something you hadn’t noticed before
• asking someone a simple question
• changing one small thing in your own process

If you feel like sharing, what did you notice out in the world?

SuzZeal is free — and will remain free.

Wednesdays belong to The Hermitess Papers — a serialized book, revealed one week at a time.

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The world these days is full of busy, shitty stuff. There is movement everywhere, decisions layered upon decisions, information arriving faster than it can be understood, and often not shared. Activity is often mistaken for intelligence. Reach is often mistaken for care.

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I unraveled a project I had already completed and I started over.

This time, a hat.

The first version was good. Soft. Well made. But it did not reach over my ears, which, for a hat, feels like an important detail.

So I began again.

I adjusted. I paid closer attention. I expected more from the work and from myself.

The second hat took shape slowly. I even invented the pattern as I went, trusting my hands and my math to find their way. I based the idea on a baby hat that a friend had shown me in her stash.

And then I ran out of yarn.

I finished the hat in black.

It works. It is wearable. But I do not particularly like how it fits.

And I am not going to unravel it again.

There is a point, somewhere between persistence and perfection, where a decision has to be made.

Not everything needs to be corrected.
Not everything needs another beginning.

Sometimes the work holds the record of what we learned along the way.

The first hat taught me about fit.
The second taught me about expectation and that not every ending needs to be undone.

I can wear it. Or I can find someone who loves it! (someone will)

I can remember what I learned (especially when I stop to write these posts).

Then I can begin something new, without pulling things apart again.

SuzZeal is free — and will remain free.

Wednesdays are dedicated to The Hermitess Papers — a serialized book, revealed one week at a time.

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This weekend, let something show—your why—ideas, feelings, personal meaning.

Return to what you’ve been doing, or try something new.
Either way, give it a little more of you.

Choose one small action:

Bake the bread a little differently.
Move the plant where you can see it.
Play the game with a bit more boldness.
Walk and notice what draws your attention.

Add something personal to your expression.

©2026 Suzanne Gibbs. Every flower has its own roots and its own way to shine and share its beauty.

Pay attention to your choices.
What color holds meaning?
Are you willing to take a risk?
What is your preference?

It doesn’t have to be good or better than before.
It just has to be yours.

You might share your creation or time.
You might give away what you’re making.
You might keep the work close and better understand yourself.

Bonus points for:
• expressing in your way
• allowing imperfection
• noticing what you care about

If you feel like sharing, what did you express?

SuzZeal is free — and will remain free.

Wednesdays are dedicated to The Hermitess Papers — a serialized book, revealed one week at a time.

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Nothing grand happens without small, repeated acts.

The ladder wobbles.
Not lonely, alone.

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One year ago, on April 11, I began writing on Substack.

At the time, it was just Mondays.
A place to think and share.
About what was happening in the studio.

Since then, Fridays appeared (a bit more playful).

And then Wednesdays (The Hermitess Papers, slowly becoming something larger).

My subscriber list has not grown much.

But it also hasn’t shrunk.

And I am choosing to see that as amazing.

A year of people staying.

A year of me showing up.

These pages are from a tiny book I made several years ago.

It no longer exists.

It was lost in a fire at the Brooklyn Sketchbook Library.

And yet, somehow, the feeling remains.

Happy. Jumpy.
Happy you are here, reading.
Meeting each other on these pages.

To mark one year, I am opening The Hermitess Papers for one week to all subscribers.

If you’ve been curious, this is a good moment to wander in—especially on Wednesday for The Hermitess Papers (this section is typically for paid subscribers).

Thank you for being here.
Whether you arrived early
or just recently.

I am making my way,
day by day,
page by page,
one word, one illustration, one stitch at a time.

Suzanne 🌿🧵

This weekend, imagine something before you do it.
This can relate to the hobby you picked in week 1 or you can move on…

The point is to stop before you start.

Picture one small thing you might try:

Make a loaf of bread. Yes, again.
Replant a potted plant. Or buy a new one.
Learn a game you haven’t played well yet.
Take a walk in a new direction.
Go line dancing.
Macramé a hanger for your plant.

©2026 Suzanne Gibbs. A birthday plant.

Pause for a moment.

Can you see it?
Roughly is fine.

What might you need?
What is your first step?

Then begin.

You don’t need a perfect plan.
A loose picture will do.

Let it change as you go.

Bonus points for:
• a slightly wild idea
• starting before you feel ready, but not too fast
• noticing where your plan went off track

If you feel like sharing, what did you imagine—and what actually happened?

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©2026 Suzanne Gibbs

In knitting, the sound of pulling stitches out is often called “ribbit.” Like a frog. The yarn releases itself, loop by loop, undoing what was once carefully constructed.

It is not a quiet process. Nor is it easy when unraveling two colors. The yarns tangle, easily. I used a yarn arm (what are these things called?) and a dining room chair.

©2026 Suzanne Gibbs

The fabric resists, then gives way. The structure collapses back into string.

Ribbit.
Ribbit.
Ribbit.

Tangle.
Tangle.
Tangle.

©2026 Suzanne Gibbs

Untangle.

Before I ripped it out, I sat with it longer than expected. I knitted a few more rows, even when it wasn’t working. My stitches were way too tight—likely due to wrong sized needles, I know now. I had no pattern and no way of knowing if it was possible to finish it… but already hours were spent, making.

There is always a moment when I wonder if I should keep going, adjust, tolerate the mistake, or begin again. Starting over is not efficient. It does not reward the time already spent.

But the work knows.

The yarn knows when something is not quite right.

So I pulled.

What had been rows of knots became lines of yarn.
What had been form would become possibility again.

There is something honest about this kind of undoing.

No hiding.
No patching over.

A willingness to return to the beginning, not as failure, but as part of the process.

I think about how rarely we allow this in other parts of life.

We continue.
We tolerate.
We adjust around what is not working.

We do not always give ourselves permission to unravel.

Yet here, in my hands, it is expected.

Ribbit.

I start again.

This weekend, return to something you already know a little about.
Or continue what you started last week.

No pressure to improve. Just stay with it.

Pick one small action and repeat it:

Make dough and knead it again. Maybe it feels easier this time.
Check the water in your plant again. Or just talk to your new plant.
Invite a player and sit at the chessboard again. What does the rook do?
Step outside and look again. At leaves, or a squirrel, or even a hummingbird, if it lets you.

©2026 Suzanne Gibbs. Image by Colby Gibbs from a car.

Set a short window of time.
10–20 minutes is plenty.

Stay with it, even when your attention drifts.
Gently bring yourself back.

This is how focus grows.
This is how we learn to persevere.

Small, steady effort adds up.
Not always exciting. Often meaningful.

Keep it simple.
Stop before you are tired.

Bonus points for:
• showing up twice
• keeping it small
• noticing what holds your attention

If you feel like sharing, what did you return to?

SuzZeal is free — and will remain free.

Wednesdays belong to The Hermitess Papers — a serialized book, revealed one week at a time.

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Too many questions.

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The space felt quiet and busy in the best way. People were present, but softly so. They moved slowly, looking closely, giving their attention to their work and each other without urgency. Telling stories and listening too.

*Artist list below the article.

In the current exhibit, I was first drawn to a stitched spider web, where cross-stitch patterns repeated again and again across the surface in between the web. The repetition was steady and deliberate, the kind of work that asks a person to remain with it longer than might feel comfortable. It held a patience and attention to detail that I recognize.

*Artist list below the article.

Another piece stopped me for a different reason. A small figure sat atop layers of mattresses, a reference to the princess and the pea, one of my favorite childhood stories. I have always understood her. I am sensitive to texture, to sound, to subtle shifts that others might not notice. In this piece, sensitivity was not a flaw. It was the point.

Elsewhere in the center, I watched people working. Some were spinning yarn by hand, a few were knitting, while in another room weavers moved thread through a loom to create fabric. Fiber became thread, and thread became cloth. The cloth would evolve into functional items. Through attention and practiced repetition, craft took shape. Nothing in their movements suggested hurry.

*Artist list below the article.

I also opened a drawer—there were many drawers to explore—and I found a vest made of paper. A vest, constructed from a material I do not usually associate with wear. I found it fascinating.

I did not take a picture, but I also saw small pinch pots made using rolled coils of fabric that were stitched together on a sewing machine using the zig-zag stitch. I wish I had picked up one of these small treasures.

What stayed with me most was the feeling of the place. The people who come to work here come for the community. They each have different approaches to making, different materials, and different histories. All were held together in one shared space. A quiet kind of community formed around working with textiles. A community that needs an infusion of young people, but persists with an elderly cohort.

There was no need to rush at the Latimer center, and no pressure to simplify or focus on just one type of making. A visitor, like me, could stay and look or stay and sit and make along with the locals present. If I had known, I would have brought my knitting and sat for a while…

*Contributing Artists from the Latimer Center: Marilyn Anderson, Stephany Anderson, Allison Barton, Rolf Birchfield, Joanne Benningfield & Rolf Birchfield, Rhoda DeGiovanni, Emily Fladstol, Teri Fladstol, Jenny Francis, Glenna Gray, Margie Howard, Lori Kaiser, Nancy Larsen, Nguyen Le, Wanti Luft, Linda Machuta, Jon Rodriquez, Marilyn Roossinck, Pam Russell, Arlene Sachitano & Linda Stark, Kim Schauss, Nita Spencer, Barbara Ward, Carol Weber, Liz Winsche & Tamara Yingling

SuzZeal is free — and will remain free.

Wednesdays belong to The Hermitess Papers — a serialized book, revealed one week at a time.

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A few ideas to choose from:

Model building (cars, airplanes or something else). Gardening (even one pot). Birdwatching (dust off those binoculars). Baking bread (without a bread machine). Puzzles. Candle or soap making. Aquarium keeping (fish, frogs or even ants). Wood carving (whittling counts). Calligraphy. Chess (or any other game). Stargazing.

How about growing a Chia Seed Head?

Your only goal:

Try something new.

Learn how one tool works or what tool might be used.
Notice what the materials or pieces do.
Ask someone about the conventions and norms of the hobby.
Follow simple steps. Explore lightly. Stay tidy.

Keep the first step small. You’re not an expert yet.

Bonus points for: sharing. I’d love to hear what you tried or learned.

SuzZeal is free — and will remain free.

Wednesdays belong to The Hermitess Papers — a serialized book, revealed one week at a time.

Subscribe

Paid subscribers receive new Hermitess installments each Wednesday.

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©2026 Suzanne Gibbs. Image by Colby Gibbs.

Last week I stepped away from my usual rhythm.

Meaningful Monday did not happen on time.
I am writing on a Monday to publish on a Monday…
No editing.

Not because I could not write.
Not because I did not care.

But, because I was busy living.

Rain on my face.
Dogs running like crazy for an hour.
Boots full of water due to sneaky waves.
Clothes soaked through.
Laughter always between the wind and the waves.

There are weeks when the studio calls.
There are weeks when the world does.

Both matter.

It is easy to believe that consistency is the goal.
To show up on time.
To keep the pattern intact.

But what if the pattern includes stepping away?

What if a wet walk on a gray, windy beach
is also part of the work?

I came back with no notes.
No outline.
Just the memory of being fully alive.

Perhaps meaning does not only come from making.

Perhaps it also comes from pausing long enough
to remember why we make at all.

©2026 Luna and Zoie are ready for a warm car. Image by Colby Gibbs, cropped.

Make Nose!

I mean, like really make noise. Remember, during the pandemic, we learned that some people in New York City hung out of their windows each night to make noise? This was good for them; it was a means of communicating to others: I still exist! But I imagine it also worked well because making noise is a terrific way to move stale energy in one’s body.

Personally, I really, really, really prefer quiet. So while I am suggesting the idea of making noise, the actual doing of it makes me cringe. I do not enjoy “sound baths” in yoga studios, concerts, large spaces with many people, peaceful protests, and so on.

I do, however, really like the sound of drums. Especially the lower tones and handmade drums that are used in sharing circles.

Marching band from my children’s high school. Neither of them played an instrument.

The rules for Be Noisy, this week’s Friday Fun, there are always rules, aren’t there? Here you go…

Use items from your home that make a lot of noise. Lids to frying pans smashed together, as an example. Hammer and nails or no nails, just wood, slam doors, scream, stomp your feet, oh, I don’t know—just make noise. Do this for a set period of time, then stop and be still. Notice how your energy has shifted. That’s it. Now just go about the rest of your life.

Sweet Antidote is where generosity meets art in conversation. A twice-monthly gathering on Zoom (and also offers a private online space for discussion) for artists who crave depth, honesty, and creative kinship. I, Suzanne, lead these calls, and no two are ever the same!

Sweet Antidote Community

SuzZeal is free — and will remain free.

Wednesdays belong to The Hermitess Papers — a serialized book, revealed one week at a time.

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Paid subscribers receive new Hermitess installments each Wednesday.

The Hermitess makes an illustration each week. The writing usually follows. Both are shared only on Substack.

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©2026 Suzanne Gibbs. Fragments of Home #39, My Bubble. Watercolor & Thread Art, Small Original Art. Ready to frame. 12.5 x 12.5 inches.

On Friday, I wrote about water and taking a bath. The comments on the post were delightful. I did not write about bubble baths, but maybe a person or two recently took the plunge into the sweet retreat of water.

Meaningful Monday is not about play. Instead, I try to notice many sides of a similar idea. My personal method of suzilophizing. Philosophy by me.

This week, the circles I stitched on a house —the always hoped for place of refuge— are the entry point for thought.

Let’s say the circles are bubbles. Bubbles can be inviting circles. But bubbles may also have deeper, more menacing meanings. We can inadvertently live in a bubble, and some of us buy bath bombs that make bubble baths. Bubbles are not bombs, yet… my brain is connecting them. Today.

Bubbles and bombs.

Bubbles are, simply stated, a thin film of suds that can burst at any moment. Poof. The shiny floating beauty is gone, and droplets fall by gravity. A bath is usually a blast. Harmless. Unfortunately, bombs may also burst at any moment and fall with gravitas. This is not a blast. And harmful, always.

I don’t know this with complete certainty, but, as I understand it, bombs are being detonated across the globe at this very moment. News writers tell us that wars are unfolding in several countries. Therefore, as you read this, I surmise that there may very well be a bomb, or several, bursting. Right now. People could be dying from the bursts that are blasts. Not having a blast. Not taking a bath. Possibly more like a blood bath.

Some bursts are harmless, while others are lethal.

Bubbles hold air and pop.
Bombs release force and destroy.

Inside our homes, we try to feel safe. We nurture ourselves, yes in bubble baths sometimes. Beyond our private walls, days are different for many.

Bubbles burst in baths.
Creating.
Health.
Quiet.
Breath.
Care.
Delight.

These bubbles are light and playful.
Other bursts carry darker associations.

Bombs burst in places far away.
Creating.
Air.
Pressure.
Release.
Destruction.
Death.

Bubbles and bombs.
Both are fragile.

It would be rather helpful if a ton of bubbles burst so that people of differing opinions and ideologies could communicate with grace, and if, at the same time, all bombs burst into a language we all could share.

-Suzanne

Sweet Antidote is where generosity meets art in conversation. A twice-monthly gathering on Zoom (and also offers a private online space for discussion) for artists who crave depth, honesty, and creative kinship. I, Suzanne, lead these calls, and no two are ever the same!

Sweet Antidote Community

SuzZeal on Wednesdays belongs to The Hermitess Papers — a serialized book, revealed one week at a time.

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As a child, it was nearly impossible to keep me out of the water—any water. Still, today, I love playing and being in bodies of water. I love the smell of chlorine on my skin after a swim or an Aqua class. I love how, when swimming in lakes, I feel the top 2 inches of warm water, and the rest of the lake water is cold below. I love how ocean water smells and the sound of crashing waves.

Today, (February 26, 2026), while in an Aqua Class at the gym I belong to, I was asked to stay out of the swim lanes during the Aqua fitness class! The swim lanes are typically empty. They were both empty today, except for my body… and because I have been around pools for my entire life, pool etiquette is ingrained in me. I know how precious lap swim lanes can be. I also volunteered for USA Swimming (the organization that chooses elite athletes for the Olympics) for over 10 years. I have a lot of respect for pool time!

However, during Aqua class, sometimes I just want a bit more room to splash and enjoy the water. So, I move out of the prescribed part of the pool and into the lane lines. Often for just a few minutes of class. While I am not in the “right place” during an Aqua Class, I watch for incoming swimmers, and if I see any, I immediately move out of the swim lane and back under the ropes into the water aerobics side of the pool (I have only had to do this once in over three months). However, someone at the club has decided that my attention to my surroundings is not enough. I am to stay out of the swim lanes! Always, during Aqua Class.

Being told to move out of the swim lane during class, made me feel chastised and humiliated. I finished the workout and left the gym frustrated and angry. I do understand that if everyone broke the rules as I did and have, then there would be no lanes for swimming, so I will not stay angry.

I might even decide to stop taking the Aqua Classes and instead begin to swim laps, since I know those two lanes are nearly always empty during this particular time frame.

Hopefully, by sharing this story, I will feel better soon. I’ll also make sure to get back into the pool as soon as possible. The horse did not buck me off, only sent me under a lane line after all…

Now I will share more water, in hopes that this Friday Fun post will inspire you to visit a body of water or to take a bath!

An Icelandic public pool. Glorious swimming!!!! I want to go back just for their pools.

Swimming in a glacier pond in Alaska! Yes, cramp-ons on my feet and water that is literally freezing or frozen? There is floating ice sludge in the water. Sludge sounds awful, but the water is ice water and barely below freezing—32ish degrees farenhiet—this is very hard to explain unless you’ve experienced water this cold.

Sadly, visitors are not allowed to swim in this pool. But oh, how much I would love to do so!!! At Hearst Castle, members (membership fees are additional) may reserve a few minutes of swim time by appointment only for $1000. My son, Jeff is in the lower right corner. We were visiting the grounds.

Floras Lake at lakes edge, Oregon. I miss this place.

A fellow classmate in graduate art school as shown lounging in a dumpster for an installation class we both took. She used cold hosewater. She was not comfortable. In grad school for art there are no grades, only critiques. She passed and graduated with me.

Ahhhhh, white sand at the ocean’s edge in Florida, a number of years ago!

Hopefully, I have inspired an urge to get wet! If you decide a bath is the best way to go, use bubbles, splash, lounge, and enjoy the water’s rejuvenating effects.

Remember to grab your Rubber Duckie too! Size is irrelevant. :)

She is always in my bathroom and makes me smile!

Sweet Antidote is where generosity meets art in conversation. A twice-monthly gathering on Zoom (and also offers a private online space for discussion) for artists who crave depth, honesty, and creative kinship. I, Suzanne, lead these calls, and no two meetings are ever the same!

Sweet Antidote Community

SuzZeal is free — and will remain free.

Wednesdays belong to The Hermitess Papers — a serialized book, revealed one week at a time.

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Paid subscribers receive new Hermitess installments each Wednesday.

My tree is upside down on purpose.
I know what is up and what is down.
I know that choice allows me agency.

I illustrated a tree that lost its sky, perhaps because the sky is el…

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