I once blew half a month’s rent on a lens because some well-meaning salesperson convinced me it was “essential” for…
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I once blew half a month’s rent on a lens because some well-meaning salesperson convinced me it was “essential” for…
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Macrame. The word alone conjures images of dusty, forgotten crafts from the ’70s, but here I am, tangled in yards…
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I’ll admit it: my apartment is a shrine to glass jars. They’re everywhere. Perched on shelves, lurking in cupboards, and,…
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I once found myself knee-deep in a bag of cement, cursing under my breath as the dust settled like an…
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Ever tried to assemble a creative workspace in a room where the only available surface is that precariously balanced stack…
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I once spent an obscene amount of time staring at a cracked sidewalk, convinced that the universe had hidden a…
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I remember the first time I attempted to build a picture frame. Armed with misplaced confidence and a borrowed miter…
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I once found myself in a dimly lit conference room, sandwiched between a designer who thought Comic Sans was still…
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I once spent a weekend crouched in my backyard, wrestling with the delicate mechanics of a drone that cost more…
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I remember my first foray into photography—armed with a shiny new DSLR and the unwarranted confidence of a five-year-old with…
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