A Memory That Sparked It All
From a very young age, my granny and I were always creating together. It probably started with simple colouring in, but as I got a little older, she began letting me into her craft room—a magical place where my imagination could run wild.
The room was filled from floor to ceiling with grey metal drawers, packed with every colour and texture of card and paper you could imagine. There were boxes full of materials and half-finished projects, each one filled with possibility. We’d often go on trips to craft shops together, picking up new supplies. She’d help me choose bits and pieces so I could keep making things at home too.
When I was about nine years old, I remember her giving me a very heavy present for my birthday. I was confused—but excited. Inside was a wooden box that she had hand-painted pink, my favourite colour at the time. It had three small drawers at the top and two larger ones at the bottom, and each drawer was filled with treasures. One held paper punches in different shapes, another was packed with stamps and colourful ink pads. There were drawers full of card-making embellishments, paper in every texture and size, and stickers of all kinds—borders, shapes, even beach-themed designs.
It was one of the most thoughtful, handmade gifts I’ve ever received. And the most special part? I still have it.
As I write this, the whole memory comes flooding back. I can picture myself sitting on the living room floor—my dad on one side of me, my granda on the other. My little brother was playing with his farm set, and my granny was sitting in front of me, smiling as I opened each drawer in awe.
It’s a memory I treasure deeply, and looking back, I think that may have been the true beginning of my creative journey.
