Hello dear Tea House friends, Today I’d like to offer a small piece of creative play — gentle, optional, and slow. The Softening Scan If you feel like it, set aside a few quiet minutes. You don’t need to finish anything. You can stop at any point. Start by bringing your attention to your body.Begin at the top of your head and slowly move downward. When you notice an area of holding or tension, pause there.Let it soften just a little — no fixing, no forcing. Then write one image or phrase for what that softening feels like. For example: - Jaw unclenching → a door opening - Belly releasing → a long sigh - Feet grounding → roots drinking You can keep moving through the body, collecting these small sensory translations —or stop after one or two. There’s no need to make a poem. But sometimes, one appears. The invitation is simple: write while sensing, letting images arise from the feeling itself, not from thinking about it afterward. If you try it and feel like sharing, you’re welcome to post: - one line - one image - or just a word And if you don’t, that’s perfectly fine too. Some creative play is meant only to be felt. Cheering you on

Hello, dear souls. We're settling into February's quiet rhythm, past the Dream Board energy and into the unfolding. I thought it might be nourishing to pause and check in — not with goals or achievements, but with what's alive in your creative world right now. A few gentle prompts (answer one, answer all, or simply sit with them): - What are you noticing in your creative practice lately — a pull toward certain colours, textures, words, or themes? - Is there something stirring that hasn't quite taken shape yet? A feeling, an image, a whisper? - What's nourishing you creatively right now? (A book, a song, a walk, silence, a new material?) - Or perhaps: what's asking for space, rest, or permission? There's no need to have it all figured out. Sometimes the most honest answer is "I don't know yet" or "I'm in the quiet before something new." Share as much or as little as you like. I'll go first in the comments. 🍵 Make a tea. Take a breath. Let your creative pulse speak.

As I’m thinking about a future gentle painting session, I’d love to get a sense of what might work for you. If you’re open to it, feel free to comment with:– one or two time windows that usually feel easiest This is just to get a general sense — no commitment at all.

I’ve been connected to art from a young age and create based on whatever inspires me in the moment. I enjoy exploring different subjects, especially portraits and expressive pieces, and I’m always open to learning and growing creatively. Art is a space where I feel free, and I love connecting with others who share that passion.

Hello dear Tea House friends, I’ve been thinking about work that never really finishes. I came across the story of Shigeru Ban, who once paused his career because building only for the privileged no longer felt true. He began rebuilding homes and gathering spaces after disasters — often with simple, temporary materials. What stayed with me wasn’t the architecture. It was the nature of the work. Work that repeats. That restores. That doesn’t end with a clear result. It made me think about my own life — and maybe yours too. There are things we return to again and again: care, listening, creating, tending, holding space. They don’t look like progress. But they are what keeps things alive. 🤍 What is one piece of your never-finished work that matters to you right now? It could be something small. Something quiet. Something only you notice. If you feel like sharing, one word or one sentence is enough. And if not, that’s okay too. Some work is meant to be returned to —layer by layer. Cheering you on, Beáta