24/04/2026
I wrote my first book when I was 10yrs old - taking it all far too seriously for my age. With glue on my hands I made the cover, carefully pressed my name into the author line, and wrote a dedication: “for all the girls out there” as though I already knew they were waiting.
It was a novel, very dramatic 😂 My teacher loved it. She gave it top marks. But what stayed with me wasn’t the grade - it was the feeling that I’d found something. A small, steady place to stand.
We didn’t live an extravagant life growing up, so I travelled by page. Books were my passports. My way out, my way through. My imagination stretched wide always hungry for more.
Even now, I feel it, that quiet goosebumps when I walk into a bookstore. Rows and rows of possibility.
I have never been overly concerned with how I look. That felt like a shallow river to wade in. But my mind - that was something else entirely. That was the landscape I wanted to expand. To fill it with knowledge, with stories, with questions that refused easy answers. Books gave me a kind of power - not loud or showy, but steady. A confidence that no matter where I found myself, I could always reach for a page and find a way through.
Today, and I sent our first book to print- “The First Hello.”
We’ve worked on big things before. Global campaigns, album covers, book covers, stories that belonged to others. We’ve seen our work printed, bound, sent out into the world.
But this is different.
This one carries our fingerprints. Years of watching, listening, holding space. Stories we didn’t rush. Moments we didn’t take lightly. It feels less like a project, and more like something we’ve carried for a long time… something that has finally found its way into form.
It’s a strange thing, a small dream. How it can sit quietly inside you for years and then one day, you’re holding it in your hands. ✨
