Beginnings

Beginnings

The title, Kindred Confetti was born out of love for celebrating the everyday and cultivating good living. This place is for kindred spirit, and thinkers alike, friends who become quick companions. Kindred is finding sustenance in people, who understand you, where you are, when you happen to stumble your way there. Kindred is getting back to the roots of things, embracing the traditions around us, and transforming them into our own individual, beautiful heritage. Kindred is for the honest, the truthful side of living.  It is better understanding who we are, the values we have, and how we will uphold them. Confetti on the other hand is for any and all occasions celebration. It comes as the tiny moments of daily living that are worth noticing with gratitude and appreciation, even the obstacles and challenges that arrive. This blog is a home, a shelter from the often too busy, a safe haven from the false mentalities of perfection, and a refuge from the idea that stress to the point of constant discomfort, and distraction equals modern day success.

Kindred Confetti is, first and foremost living with intention. It's the silver lining, a pale with the brim overflowing with these tender, beautiful experiences that life can offer. It is about learning how to use life as our greatest reflection of what we love, who we love, and why we love. It is the real texture, talk, and truth of good living. 

The backstory of how this came to be; there was what seemed like a long period of time in my life when I had turned my back on the thought that simple living was rewarding. I was in constant competition, trying to find myself in a life that was more like someone else's than my own, I lacked happiness within, and I lacked the honesty to admit it. Life was hazy, and I craved living well with a starving appetite, and unfortunately no discipline when it came to how to feed it. I mindlessly fell in the trap of buying more of everything, followed by working at a job that wasn't my passion, to keep paying for the unescapable void I was trying to fill with things that had no substance, and yet I wondered why my gaping hole still ached.

Then, there was a season of spring turned summer, and my misplaced twenty some year old self back in my white worn in family farm house in Upstate New York to find answers. It was a place where leaving and returning was familiar. Four different states later, and something always pulled me back to Lake Erie, and its time stood still surroundings. It was in the lush green grounds of our thirteen acre, two hundred year old property where I disconnected for awhile. My mother is, I am sure, the things that saints are made of. Gaping holes and aching for what was missing had been replaced with healing and finding myself. Instead of starving for more, I was fed through gratitude as we took well anticipated trips to Amish food auction, early mornings of goat walks, gathering eggs, and tending our sweet farm. I watched my mother continue to formulate new recipes, the ever abundance of home cooked food filled our table, and countertops. She showed me what it is like living with such an energy. She always some how continues to find a way to give more to those she loves and knows. Kindred Confetti is also for her and my deep gratitude in what she has taught me, and what she has retaught me. She showed both ends, how to seek Kindred friends, and how to find and celebrate the daily confetti in my life. This is my give back, to the revelations, experiences, ideas, that changed me, pushed me, and opened my eyes to how I wanted to live my life. 

Kindred Confetti is for the people who are in search, who have found, and who long for better lives. It started with the food on my plate and a love deep for the fresh soil beneath my feet that was giving my roots room to grow. Kindred Confetti was created for this very reason, to share this passion, to share this process, to curate positive conversation, all while exploring the nature of artful, intentional, and honest living. These are my heartfelt musings, and this is just the beginning.

Travels of Late

Travels of Late

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