So much has been put into this series and so much has been happening behind the scenes that it is getting hard to just breathe. Some soul crushing thoughts try to sink in while painting past trauma. As important as I feel this is, I need a moment. No long, just long enough to process what has been completed here in ‘Le Poisson du Jardin’
‘All One Needs’ Acrylic on Canvas, Work in Progress‘Faux Angels’ Acrylic on Canvas‘Traffic’ Acrylic on Canvas, Work in Progress‘Onward from the War of the Roses’ Acrylic on Canvas‘The Bay’ Acrylic on Board
Untitled, Acrylic on Canvas, Work in Progress
‘Silas’ Acrylic on Board
‘Trapped in Performance’ Acrylic on Board
And last but not least…
‘Thee I Hate Mary Club’ Acrylic on Board, Work in Progress
I will be posting updates as I work on this series but for now I am working on a most important piece for a very important client, my Lamby.
Creative Consultant, Sustainable Fashion, Owner & Head Designer at Hopscotch Couture/Marelle Couture, Wearable Fine Art
May 5, 2026
Today I bring to you a very personal story with a life changing message. I hope it touches you in a positive way and I thank you for reading this today.
Back when my son, Korey Francis Walmsley was 21, he said something to me that I will never forget for its profoundness and beauty. He was always what I would call emotionally intelligent.
He had also been emotionally troubled for years, in and out of psychiatric units, struggling simply to keep going. It was often hard to help him or even be around him because of his anger. Yet the last three months of his life were beautiful.
We spent nearly every day together. We baked Christmas cookies, cooked dinners, watched movies, and even some MMA. He was still deeply troubled, but we were finally able to talk for hours about his worries and anxieties. He had decided he was going to start school that January, and I felt hopeful.
One day, while we were spending time together, I had to go to the ER in Morristown, New Jersey. He asked to come along. We were leaving early that morning, and before we left, we were sitting together having coffee when he said something striking.
He told me the goal in life is not to become the Grim Reaper.
He explained that you have to reach a point where you let go of what people have done to you, because if you carry vengeance into death, you might become a grim reaper — still searching for revenge in spirit. We had often spoken about spiritual warfare before, so this wasn’t unusual for us to have these deep discussions.
I thought it was a beautiful idea and pondered it on the ride. I was so proud of my son for how far he has come and for all he endured.
When we arrived at the hospital, I was placed in a room, and almost immediately Korey became agitated. He paced the halls of the ER repeatedly. Then he came back into my room and asked if I had seen the sign just outside my door.
When I looked, my heart stopped.
Everything felt still.
The sign read: “Don’t Be the Grim Reaper,” with a photo of the Reaper
I asked a staff member why it was there. They explained it hung above the shredder machine as a reminder to check documents before shredding them — to make sure nothing important was accidentally destroyed.
But for us, it meant something more.
We were both deeply affected by that moment. We were quiet for most of the day, even during the ride home.
Only a few weeks later, my son took his life.
He left me a note, and based on that letter, I can tell you this with absolute certainty: he is not the Grim Reaper — not then, not now, not ever.
I am still in awe of him.
It took me many years to even begin to understand the deeper meaning of that message.
I have always believed we are energy beings. Good energy, bad energy — all of it extends outward, reaching the people we love and even the people we hate. When we hold onto vengeance, we keep the cycle of negative energy alive, sending it outward only for it to return to us again and again. Our own anger coming back and hurting us.
Whether we realize it or not, people feel what lives in our hearts. Anger, love, resentment, compassion — it all travels.
How many times have you talked about someone, only for the phone to ring and it’s them? Coincidence? Or energy?
Have you ever struggled to get over someone for weeks, months, or even years, and the moment you finally move forward and feel happy again — suddenly they reappear? They feel the shift. They feel the loss of that energetic connection.
Your vibe is energy.
So let’s talk about bad energy — the kind my son was speaking about: revenge, violence, hateful thoughts, the desire to get even.
When bad energy is met with empathy instead of hate, the cycle often stops right there.
If you believe, as I’ve written before, in spiritual warfare, then you understand the constant tension between good and evil and how quietly destructive negativity can be in everyday life.
What if, instead of seeing those who hurt you as powerful, you saw them as sad? Weak, perhaps. Not above you, but trapped — influenced by anger, fear, or darkness they cannot escape.
Imagine living with so much hate that another person’s mere existence triggers you. No goals. No dreams. Just resentment.
That is its own prison.
People hurt others for many reasons — trauma, pain, learned behavior, or choices shaped by their own suffering. But when you meet that darkness with compassion instead of retaliation, you interrupt generations of negative energy.
The way we respond to conflict is often inherited — learned from who raised us and who surrounded us. When you change your response, you change your bloodline. Future generations may live free from cycles of hatred and revenge.
Can you imagine never carrying the burden of getting even? Never allowing someone who doesn’t care about you to freeze your heart?
Forgiveness is part of it. But so is awareness — recognizing that not every battle is truly human. Sometimes we forget that not everyone acts with humanity or compassion. Not everyone is human.
So if you want to stop feeling drained by negative energy every day, you must stop feeding it.
But how do we do that?
How do we let go of anger toward someone who hurt us deeply?
Without justice? Without repayment?
Your first instinct might be: Are you insane? They need to pay.
Yes — without getting even.
Because no one is keeping score but you.
The pain may still be fresh. The damage may feel unbearable. I cannot tell you exactly how to release it. What I can tell you is where I am now on my own journey.
I am beginning to see forgiveness as an act of spiritual strength — a refusal to let darkness continue working through me. I believe negative forces sometimes reach us through the very people we love and trust.
And so forgiveness becomes faith in the journey itself.
Treat resentment like a bad habit — because in many ways, it is.
Breaking the Habit of Negative Energy
If letting go feels impossible, start small:
Notice the trigger. Become aware of when anger or revenge thoughts appear. Awareness breaks autopilot.
Pause before reacting. Take one breath before responding — even silently.
Replace the thought. Instead of “they hurt me,” try “I release what no longer serves me.”
Limit mental replay. Replaying pain strengthens it. Redirect your attention intentionally.
Choose compassion without contact. Forgiveness does not mean allowing harm or reopening doors.
Practice daily release. Imagine setting the burden down each night before sleep.
Build new energy habits. Gratitude, creativity, movement, prayer, or meditation all shift emotional patterns.
Like any habit, negativity weakens when it is no longer practiced.
My son’s words continue to guide me.
Don’t carry vengeance so long that it becomes your identity.
As I work on several at a time these were finished at the same time. This is a difficult series to do and I am working a lot of emotions out by painting this. At times I have to put them away or turn them around to get away from their meaning. Some are absolutely joyous and others are heart wrenching but they all have a place in the past as we move forward as best we can in uncertain waters.
“Onward from the War of the Roses”, Acrylic on Canvas, 24″ x 30″ $4,700
“Faux Angels” Acrylic on Canvas, 18″ x 24″ $3,270
“Trapped in Performance” Acrylic on Board, 16″ x 20″ $2,740
“The Bay” Acrylic on Board, 16″ x 20″ $2,740
It is slow going but it is an important series and I appreciate all the support and love for the series I have been receiving. Thank you so very much.
Creative Consultant, Sustainable Fashion, Owner & Head Designer at Hopscotch Couture/Marelle Couture, Wearable Fine Art
Do you truly understand anyone? Does anyone truly understand you? These are questions we might not ask ourselves often enough. The truth is, understanding is far more complex than we give it credit for. There are countless differences between us: the environments we grew up in, our family dynamics, cultural influences, even how our brains work—all shape how we move through the world.
Think about it—our mindsets, statuses, family backgrounds, where we’ve lived, the cultures we belong to, and even our unique cognitive abilities (like IQ) all contribute to how we interpret the world around us. Values, hopes, dreams—all these pieces influence what matters to us. And here’s the kicker: what holds deep significance to you may hold absolutely no value to someone else.
So how do we know when we’re truly being understood? Or that we truly understand someone else?
Sometimes, we’re not even on the same page. For example, you might interpret a simple text with a certain tone that the sender never intended. The time of day, your mental state, or even past experiences can shape how you perceive a message. Did you know that some people don’t even have an inner dialogue—a narrator in their minds? Imagine how that impacts their experience of the world compared to someone who constantly overthinks!
It’s honestly a miracle that we manage to understand each other at all.
Practical Steps to Bridging the Gap
Here are some practical ways you can work toward better understanding others (and being understood):
Open Discussions: Create spaces where open conversations are encouraged. This can be as simple as asking, “How do you feel about this?” instead of assuming you know the other person’s perspective.
Take and Give Notes: This isn’t just about jotting things down—it’s about active listening. When someone shares something important, take mental or physical notes. Afterward, reflect on what you’ve heard, and maybe share your own summary to ensure you’ve captured their meaning correctly.
Be Open to New Ideas: When someone introduces a new concept, resist the urge to immediately reject it. Ask questions. Explore the idea before deciding whether it aligns with your values.
Practice Empathy: Try to put yourself in the other person’s shoes. Understanding their background, struggles, and motivations can bring clarity to why they think or act the way they do.
Ask Clarifying Questions: Instead of making assumptions, ask, “Is this what you meant?” or “Can you explain that further?” It can prevent a lot of miscommunication.
In a world filled with so many differences, it’s more important than ever to practice understanding. We may never fully know what’s going on in someone else’s mind, but through these small steps, we can close the gap a little bit more each day.
You can read many other Business of Being You newsletters here:
I started with a moody underpainting, like a rainy day.Adding layers and layers building up to something.There just isn’t an orange orange enough.Ahhh, finally some eyes to see with. This is a journey in details now. The fish have a long way to go, I want them to be more realistic.
Onward goesLe poisson du jardin poursuit son chemin.
In a world that often seems fixated on the latest trends and fashion fads, there is a refreshing and empowering movement towards going off-trend. While staying current in the world of style, size, fast fashion, and color has its merits, there are compelling reasons why individuals and businesses are increasingly opting for a timeless approach to fashion, accessories, and jewelry. In this article, we will explore the benefits of not following the current trends and the value it brings to those who choose to go their own way.
Statement Neck Piece & Handbag by Marelle Couture for Hopscotch Couture
Individuality and Authenticity: One of the most significant advantages of not following trends is the ability to express individuality and authenticity. Fashion should be a reflection of one’s personality and personal style, not a carbon copy of what everyone else is wearing. Going off-trend allows you to curate a wardrobe and accessories collection that speaks to your unique taste and values.
Quality Over Quantity: The fast fashion industry has given rise to an unsustainable cycle of disposable clothing and accessories. By eschewing trends and focusing on timeless pieces, you invest in quality over quantity. High-quality items tend to last longer, reducing the need for constant replacements and ultimately saving you money in the long run.
Environmental Sustainability: The fast fashion industry is notorious for its negative impact on the environment, from excessive water usage to the production of non-biodegradable synthetic fabrics. Choosing timeless fashion items that don’t conform to the whims of trends can reduce your carbon footprint and contribute to a more sustainable future.
Embracing Size Inclusivity: Trends in fashion often exclude a significant portion of the population by adhering to narrow standards of beauty and body size. Going off-trend allows for more size inclusivity, as you can choose pieces that flatter your unique body shape and size, rather than trying to fit into the latest fashion craze.
Economic Benefits: Fashion trends often lead to impulse buying, which can be financially draining. By opting for timeless pieces, you can make more deliberate and cost-effective purchases. Moreover, classic items tend to retain their value over time, making them a potentially lucrative investment.
Cultural and Personal Values: Fashion trends can sometimes be at odds with personal or cultural values. By going off-trend, you can align your style choices with your beliefs and cultural background, allowing you to feel more comfortable and confident in your clothing.
Stress Reduction: Keeping up with ever-changing fashion trends can be exhausting. The constant pressure to buy the latest styles can lead to stress and anxiety. Choosing a timeless wardrobe can significantly reduce this stress and allow you to focus on more important aspects of life.
Supporting Sustainable Brands: Businesses that focus on timeless fashion are often more ethically and sustainably minded. By supporting these brands, you contribute to a fashion industry that values fair labor practices, environmentally responsible production, and longevity over disposability.
Transcending Seasons: Trendy fashion often changes with the seasons, leaving you with a closet full of clothes that are only wearable for a limited time. Timeless pieces transcend seasons, allowing you to wear them year-round and reducing the need for seasonal wardrobe overhauls.
Confidence and Self-Esteem: When you wear clothing and accessories that truly resonate with your personal style, you feel more confident and comfortable in your own skin. This boost in self-esteem is a powerful benefit of going off-trend.
In conclusion, while there’s nothing inherently wrong with following fashion trends, there are numerous compelling reasons to embrace a more timeless approach to style, size, fast fashion, and color. By doing so, you can express your individuality, reduce your environmental impact, save money, and support businesses that prioritize quality and sustainability. Going off-trend isn’t about rejecting fashion; it’s about redefining it on your terms and creating a more authentic, sustainable, and fulfilling fashion journey.
Crafting Unique Crowns: Unveiling the Art of Transformation
Of everything I create, the crowns always leave me in awe. Every single one begins with a single fragment. Whether it’s weathered brass, timeworn silver, or fragments of history in the form of shattered jewelry, wood, or even glass – inspiration sparks when one’s eye catches that initial glimmer. And thus, the creative journey commences. Each crown emerges following the same pattern – a harmonious interdependence of its constituent parts, like a symphony of reverse dominoes.
In the realm of crafting this particular crown, the aspiration was to conceive a grand piece of art imbued with myriad concealed delights. Only components marked by the grace of time, tinged with wisdom earned through the ages, find their place in this creation. There’s a sensation of resurrecting significance from days long past, granting a second life to what was once cherished by another soul. The intent is clear – to evoke joy and ensure their memory endures.
The assembly process is deliberate, each piece meticulously united. Various techniques are employed, tailored to the materials at hand. Industrial epoxy, chosen for its strength, was the adhesive of choice for this creation. Some fragments demanded patience, requiring days for the epoxy to set before progress resumed.
The exquisite beaded fabric gracing the base was once part of a resplendent vintage gown. Ravaged by time, it clung to its most splendid feature – the collier. An assortment of items, ranging from a cherubic figure to a milk pitcher and even an antiquated train token, finds a place. Imagination knows no bounds. From retired typewriters to long-silenced clocks, the eclectic mix serves as a reminder of the adage, “You can’t take it with you.” Yet, fragments of you can live on. Enigmatic is the wearer of that brass headband – a seamstress perhaps, symbolized by the inverted thimble anchoring it. Her dedication to each stitch and mend is now celebrated atop a regal crown.
Observe the keyholes, far from commonplace craft store finds. Salvage yards and estate sales yield these treasures, preserving a tangible link to the past. Notice the fishing lure on the left – plucked from my personal tackle box, bestowed by my father. It adorns the crown, a fragment of my essence forever interwoven. This practice isn’t confined to the crowns alone; it suffuses everything I craft.
The crown brims with meticulous intricacies. A diminutive cherub is now embraced by a multitude of creatures, trinkets, and holds the Blessed Mother charm upon its wing with utmost delicacy. This was my vision from the outset – a piece brimming with delightful surprises at every angle. The more you scrutinize, the more the narrative unfolds. Concealed compartments and pillboxes hide within my creations; some remain undiscovered, a thought that warms my heart.
Surprises dance around this wearable artwork. The fur, an integral element, remains eternally vintage – old coats, outmoded but never forgotten, shawls, and hats that have withstood the passage of time. While opinions on fur may differ, my stance is unequivocal. An advocate for animals, my father and I would halt on highways to rescue wounded birds and turtles. I abhor all forms of cruelty towards animals. Yet, a sobering truth remains – there’s a demand for fur. By employing vintage fur, I endeavor to diminish the need for new resources, paying homage to the creatures that once donned these coats with dignity. This commitment extends beyond fur; no new materials, be it silk or otherwise, grace my creations.
The head that dons the crown bears a weighty responsibility, yet it does so with grace. It’s an invitation to wear one’s identity with pride, embracing history and legacy. So wear it well, for every crown tells a story of reimagining, of breathing life into fragments, and of crafting art that resonates through time.
This is my favorite place in the whole world. I use to spend a lot of time there growing up. It was a nearby place to get away from it all. In New Jersey it was and still is a blessing. We could ice skate there every winter. They have paddle boats in the summer and some really great hiking trails. I used to go there and just fish for sunnies when there was nothing to do. I miss it so much I decided to include it in my series of paintings, “le poisson dans le jardin”
Other people saw her differently than I did, but other people were not the product of her husband’s affair. The audacity of the situation led to it.
Never, ever—not even once—was my birthday celebrated. It was always postponed to another date.
One year, I celebrated it with my father. I was so happy at the time to share my birthday with him. Both of our names were on the cake. My birthday was in December. My dad’s was in March.
You have no idea what that will do to a child.
When I was three, my mother tried to change the date of my birthday. So sad, really.
She was present at my birth. She was a pediatric nurse and was there. She told me that my birth mother screamed over and over to her husband, “She is your baby!”
Truth be told, I wasn’t.
The truth would stay silent until after my father passed away.
No one would take me to his bedside. I had to pay a family member $400 to take me, and by the time I got there, he had already passed away.
My assistant at the time came along to drive me home. She said it was the cruelest thing she had ever seen.
It was nothing new to me.
When my son died, I heard from none of my father’s side of the family. No cards. No calls.
I asked my mom, “Why is no one sending condolence cards?”
Years later, I called my father’s first cousin just to say hello. She asked me how my children were.
I told her about my son.
She said she had just had lunch with my mother the week before, and my mother told her Korey was doing fine.
He had died five years earlier.
I had no obituary. That was my choice because I didn’t want so many people to know he had taken his life.
I found my mother’s cruelty even more extreme after my father was gone.
My daughter and I had no chance when we became homeless. My family wouldn’t even answer the phone. They didn’t care what happened to us, and no one even told me when she died.
When I was little, my brothers would do whatever they wanted to me. I was told to ignore it.
That was when my father told me to be like a duck and let whatever your brothers do to you just roll off like water on a duck.
He even called me Duckie.
The only problem was, I wasn’t a fuckin’ duck.
I was a five-year-old girl.
Before I could even walk, my brothers dumped an entire container of baby powder on my head. I was crawling around on the floor with it in my eyes, and I was coughing.
“Boys will be boys.”
But a pediatric nurse does not then get your father to film it.
I was regularly taken to the ER because I would stop breathing and turn blue. So they filmed this and proceeded to play the reel every Friday night to my brothers’ delight.
I would cry, and they would call me OCK because when I cried, my eyes went slanty like a Chinese person, they said.
These are all facts.
This was the way it was.
My father never intervened.
One time, he told me, “Stay down when your brother hits you so he will stop sooner.”
WTF!!
I started buying items at yard sales and storing them in the attic at the age of 14. I was buying things for my apartment.
When I turned 18, I left.
Just in time.
My oldest brother had graduated to butcher knives. He would wake me up with them. He said he wanted to kill me or himself.
The police came and left.
Nothing happened.
I knew it was time, and I left right after that.
No one ever did anything about what was happening, and most people never knew.
Back then, you didn’t air out your dirty laundry.
My mother hated my artwork. I was self-conscious about it for many years.
When I started Hopscotch Couture, she said I should have gone into marketing. If I could sell my work, I could sell anything.
That was who my mom was to me.
Not a fan.
So imagine people trying to bully me now.
My mom said I used to cry so much as an infant that the neighbor would come and check on me. My pediatric nurse was having a hard time taking care of me.
I had a serious heart defect and Chiari malformation Type I, a serious brain defect, and I regularly couldn’t breathe.
I was never supposed to survive.
In 1999, I had massive open-heart surgery at UPENN in Philadelphia.
I drove myself to and from that surgery.
I had no visitors, and it was one of the scariest things I ever endured.
Today, I have to prove I even had it because the surgery scar is on my back, something that was done in 1999 at a teaching hospital. This was a thoracic procedure.
Since people cannot see that scar, they assume I am lying and have mental problems.
It is so bad that I had to have my records sent to me from so many years ago. They had to get them from microfilm.
Can you imagine going to the ER with complications from pneumonia and being treated like a psych patient, denied medical care until you consent to a psych evaluation?
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