DIY Suncatcher
As someone who has been pretty independent most of her life, learning to ask for help or seeking help has not been easy for me. I found that despite the many cancer resources and organizations out there, it is hard to know where to begin, what to search for, and what you might even need.
As someone who has been pretty independent most of her life, learning to ask for help or seeking help has not been easy for me. I found that despite the many cancer resources and organizations out there, it is hard to know where to begin, what to search for, and what you might even need.
One day, after looking at a holistic website for cancer nutrition and seeing they offered reiki on Zoom, my interest was piqued. I googled in-person reiki in Colorado and stumbled upon the Colorado Cancer Coalition website. What a trove of great resources! There I found LifeSpark which offers free reiki and healing touch for eight weeks to anyone affected by cancer, caregivers included.
I reached out to them immediately and while I was waiting to hear back, in a moment of kismet, a volunteer from LifeSpark approached me during my fourth chemotherapy treatment. I was alone for that treatment and already feeling uneasy. We spoke for a while about each of our own cancer journeys and how the reiki treatments helped her through hers. She then asked if I would be open for a treatment, so she laid me back, put on a vibrational healing soundtrack, and went to work — whatever she did put me to sleep because the next thing I knew the fluid alarm was blaring and I only had one thirty minute bag left.
Shortly thereafter, I was matched with my wonderful therapist for the next eight weeks. No matter what you believe, I think there is a great benefit to having an outside, unbiased, supporter start rooting for you.
These sessions gave me something to look forward to each week, it gave me a safe place to completely let go, it gave me an hour to completely quiet my racing mind, and allow myself to be completely nurtured.
The more I thought about how I felt when I left these sessions, I realized that my energy healer, much like a sun-catcher, would capture all the warmth and light and protect me against any negative energies that no longer served me. I would leave each session feeling an overwhelming sense of bliss and gratitude. When I can finally put this journey in my rear view mirror, I look forward to finding my way to give back and becoming someone else’s light.
Total Eclipse Embroidery Poster
Have you ever had a life altering moment that reminds you how small our world is? Have you ever seen a total eclipse? If you haven’t, I highly recommend that you put it on your bucket list right now. My first experience was in 2017 when the path of totality went through Glendo, Wyoming. It is still the most magical thing I have ever witnessed — and as we headed on our 11 hour, normally 2 hour, journey back to Denver — we all excitedly discussed where we would go to watch the next total eclipse in April 2024 and termed ourselves “umbraphiles”.
Have you ever had a life altering moment that reminds you how small our world is? Have you ever seen a total eclipse?
If you haven’t, I highly recommend that you put it on your bucket list right now. My first experience was in 2017 when the path of totality went through Glendo, Wyoming. It is still the most magical thing I have ever witnessed — and as we headed on our 11 hour, normally 2 hour, journey back to Denver — we all excitedly discussed where we would go to watch the next total eclipse in April 2024 and termed ourselves “umbraphiles”.
Little would I know, my next viewing of the total eclipse would come into jeopardy when I was diagnosed with my recurrence. In early March, when I began speaking with oncologists about treatment options I asked if I had travel plans on April 8th, what would that mean? I kept asking, as if, waiting for the oncologists to tell me I wouldn’t be able to travel or see the eclipse again, or at least not this one. However, they never told me no.
As I worked through our wonderful healthcare system — I was burdened with trying to advocate for myself through phone call after phone call trying to get the right care. I am a big believer that everything happens for a reason. After I finally made a decision on my oncologist — both her and my nurse would encourage me to take my trip to see the eclipse — they wanted me to have one more moment of joy before I would start this next chapter.
It was worth every second of that four and a half minutes to see the moon totally eclipse the sun. That moment of awe, wonderment, and peace helps to put everything back into perspective and to remind us to be grateful for the little moments, as they are always fleeting.
The total eclipse was a Monday afternoon in Vermont, I flew home the following Tuesday evening from Boston, had a PET/CT scan on Wednesday morning, my port placed that afternoon, and come Thursday morning, I would have my first chemotherapy treatment. In hindsight, what transpired was absolutely crazy and I am not sure I would recommend this to someone just starting treatments. I do not think I was able to process what was about to happen until a couple weeks after, but can you ever really be ready for something like this?
It has been two months since my last chemotherapy treatment, my hair is starting to grow back, and I am starting to reflect on it all. If you are about to embark on this treatment plan, I would try to find your own moment of joy — and hold on to it as your guiding force. As I recently stitched through this embroidery poster, it reminded me who I am, why I fought for what I wanted, why I continue to fight, and where I want to go from here. Maybe the moon has been guiding me all along and I just had to look for it in total darkness to find its pull.
If you’d like to create this embroidered poster or other embroidery kits, check out Simple and Sylvan’s site. If you’d like to make plans to see this cosmic event — meet me in Spain in March 2025 or join me in Colorado in March 2026.
Make Your Own Terrarium
As summer is dwindling, I am holding on to the simple pleasures of watering my garden and enjoying the last of the tomatoes. I know there are probably many reasons that contributed to my diagnosis — and I will never know for sure — but I do think that in recent years my disease may have been accelerated because I became more and more of an indoor creature.
As summer is dwindling, I am holding on to the simple pleasures of watering what is left of my garden and enjoying the last of the tomatoes. I know there are probably many reasons that contributed to my diagnosis — and I will never know for sure — but I do think that in recent years my disease may have been accelerated because I became more and more of an indoor creature.
I know there are great benefits to being outside and playing in the dirt, and I am trying to be more intentional about carving out time to be in nature each day. I do not know why it has felt harder for me than it should be. About halfway through my chemotherapy treatments — a friend stopped by with some plants, glassware, rocks, and guided me outside to play. Now, I would like to invite you to carve out some time of your own, play in the dirt, and make your own terrarium in six simple steps.
Step 1 — Pick Your Glassware
Choose a glass vessel that has an open top. Have you received a bouquet of flowers in a glass vase or a lovely homemade soup in a Ball jar during your journey? I would recommend using this as an opportunity to reuse any unused vases and jars in your house and give them a new life.
Step 2 — Selection of Plants
Head to your local nursery and pick out a few plants to fit within your vessel. Look for a variety of textures and colors! While you are there, be sure to pick up a bag of small rocks and potting soil. A couple tips: make sure the size of your plants will fit comfortably within the glassware you selected with room to grow and that the plants you select will thrive in similar environments.
Step 3 — Fill the Base
Start with your small rocks and add a layer to the bottom of the vessel. Depending on the vessel you choose this should be anywhere from an 1” to 2” deep. Then, add a layer of potting soil on top. Again, depending on the size of your vessel this should be deeper than the rock layer and give room for your plants’ roots to grow.
Step 4 — Plant
Plant your plants in the soil and make sure you give them enough space to grow.
Step 5 — Decorate
Another great way to add interest to your terrarium is to decorate it with rocks, shells, crystals, moss, or any other found objects. Use your imagination and find things in your house that might spark new joy in this little world you are creating. I added shells from a trip to Panama in one terrarium and then rocks from my sister’s childhood rock tumbler in another.
Step 6 — Water
Once you’re done decorating your terrarium, be sure to water it… carefully. You can do this with an indoor plant mister or ice cubes.
Now, do a little happy dance and find a good spot for your new friend!
If you make your own terrarium, please send along a photo or tag @craftingthroughcancer, I’d love to see what you create. And, if you are interested in learning more about the benefits of getting dirty, check out this NYT article.
Coloring Affirmation Cards
I feel like the last two months have been the hardest and darkest days since this journey all began. After four months of infusions, every three weeks, my mind and body were completely depleted. It was hard for me to get myself up, to get outside, to get off the couch, let alone focus on a craft. I felt like a shell of myself — and honestly I probably was.
I feel like the last two months have been the hardest and darkest days since this journey all began. After four months of infusions, every three weeks, my mind and body were completely depleted. It was hard for me to get myself up, to get outside, to get off the couch, let alone focus on a craft. I felt like a shell of myself — and honestly I probably was.
I had grand plans for a knitting project during my TCHP treatments, but as the infusions went on, it was hard for me to concentrate on anything. As soon as the pre-medications hit my system, I would become woozy from the Benadryl and would instantly get a terrible, dull taste in my mouth, the sterile smell of the infusion center would take over, and my head would become a murky fog.
This was when just doing nothing, playing cards, or mindful (mindless) coloring felt the easiest with my caretakers.
A friend of mine gifted me these whimsical small coloring cards that would lift my spirits with their positive affirmations. They fit perfectly on the swing out table connected to my infusion chair, the lines were already drawn, the composition already laid out, all I had to do was pick a color. They were also small enough that the card could be completed during one session. It felt doable, achievable, a place where I could “expect to experiment” without consequence of my own judgements.
The Mayo Clinic speaks to the benefits of coloring and suggests “as you color, pay attention to your breathing rhythm, ensuring steady, full breaths from your diaphragm, and tune into your heart rate periodically if you can.”
Medical jargon aside, this seems like a beautiful practice to embrace. I know the value in breathing and meditating, so why not add some creativity to that practice? Early in my career, I interned with the Museum of Contemporary Art Denver and I remember setting up a day camp for school children. We explored abstract painting and music. The students were prompted to listen to a diverse soundtrack and make marks on their page, in real time, based on what they were hearing and feeling from the music being played. They each created some very unexpected and moving pieces of work. It could be an interesting study to see how coloring vibrations change depending on your breathing, just like the music changed the energy of the mark.
Anyone up for experimenting with a coloring and breath work evening to see what we can create?
Artist Lexis Krieg makes these creative optimism affirmation cards. One of my favorite things is they are sold in sets of two so you can share the creativity. Pick up a set for you and gift one to your loved one at Lexisworks.
Cactus Embroidery Patch
If you have gone through chemotherapy, how quickly did your hair start to fall out? Mine started falling out almost immediately. It was such a crazy experience, one that I felt like I would be prepared for, but I was not.
If you have gone through chemotherapy, how quickly did your hair start to fall out? Mine started falling out almost immediately. It was such a crazy experience, one that I felt like I would be prepared for, but I was not.
One of my dear friends, and talented artist, came into town to help me after my second chemotherapy treatment. She brought two embroidery kits that we could each do together over the course of her stay. With my sister and friend by my side, they gave me my first buzz cut.
I felt glad to have the patchy, Tyler the Creator, leopard print hairstyle gone and was feeling more emboldened, like GI Jane, camo yoga pants included.
After my sister headed back home, we broke out the kits, sat in my shaded backyard, and began to stitch. I was a little overwhelmed with all of the stitches I would have to learn and execute within this small canvas, but with the cool air blowing over my newly trimmed head, I felt comfort knowing that I was surrounded by love and support.
There was something about stitching with my friend by my side that told me that everything was going to be okay. This is all temporary—my hair will grow back, I will get over this bump in the road, and I will learn all the stitches.
Yesterday, my mom, with her expertise as a quilter, helped me iron out the last few steps to bring the patch to completion. As I have now finished my last chemotherapy treatment, I continue to realize the power in a supportive community. There have been days where I have felt completely overwhelmed, where I have felt like this treatment and disease was all too much to take on. However, much like the number of stitches I had to learn, I didn’t have to take it all on at once — nor alone. I could take it one stitch at a time, one day at a time.
After learning many stitches, I decided the French Knot is my favorite stitch. Do you have a favorite?
If you want to create your own cactus embroidery patch, check out Antiquaria.
Sashiko Stitching
Sashiko is a Japanese hand-sewing technique to create geometric patterns. I learned that the name translates to mean “little stabs”. I started my first Sashiko kit after my reconstruction surgery and it was a lonelier time for me. I felt like I was on my own sooner and given I was a “survivor” at that point in time I did not feel like I had the same outpouring of support as I did during my mastectomy. I am positive a lot of this was by my own doing, reassuring everyone that I was stronger than I was.
Sashiko is a Japanese hand-sewing technique to create geometric patterns. I learned that the name translates to mean “little stabs”. I started my first Sashiko kit after my reconstruction surgery and it was a lonelier time for me. I felt like I was on my own sooner and given I was a “survivor” at that point in time I did not feel like I had the same outpouring of support as I did during my mastectomy. I am positive a lot of this was by my own doing, reassuring everyone that I was stronger than I was.
At the time, I thought that maybe a craft would uplift me. I wanted something I could do in my lap without too much arm movement given that I was back to my physical restrictions and pillow prison.
Each stitch that was not even and each stitched line that was not perfectly straight, seemed like tiny little stabs to my ego.
All of it was weighing heavy on me and I didn’t feel like crafting was bringing me the same peace or escape from my dark thoughts. I kept stitching, but eventually, I decided to stop. I had to put it away.
It’s okay to step back, rest, recover, and put things away. I feel like through a lot of this journey I have felt this inherent urge to keep pushing myself to stay positive and to continue fighting to find the light in this darkness.
However, I think sometimes I push myself so much that I forget to actually stop and sit in the darkness so that I am clear enough to find the light.
Just like I was accepting that I had to sit with all my feelings, I also accepted that I had to put the embroidery in the closet until I was clear enough to make my way back to it.
If you’d like to try your hand at your own Sashiko pattern, check out my local craft store Fancy Tiger Crafts and order one of their packages.
Bennet Bandana
When I was in high school, I learned how to knit and I would knit through my freshman year of college. I remember always loving going to the yarn store to see all the colors and touching all the different skeins. Despite my fascination, I never moved past the basics of knitting a long rectangular scarf. Prior to my mastectomy, I went to a beautiful shop here in town known for their kits and beautiful curation of supplies. The owner helped me pick out a few kits she thought would be good to do while I was recovering. I spotted the Bennet Bandana and thought, I know how to knit, how hard could it be?
When I was in high school, I learned how to knit and I would knit through my freshman year of college. I remember always loving going to the yarn store to see all the colors and touching all the different skeins. Despite my fascination, I never moved past the basics of knitting a long rectangular scarf. Prior to my mastectomy, I went to a beautiful shop here in town known for their kits and beautiful curation of supplies. The owner helped me pick out a few kits she thought would be good to do while I was recovering. I spotted the Bennet Bandana and thought, I know how to knit, how hard could it be?
Little did I know that the picot lace edge and making a triangle shape would prove harder than I thought. The first day I got the kit out, I spent all day starting, unraveling, and starting again trying to understand how it would look and wanting to make it look good. Remember, when I said I was a recovering perfectionist?
My goal was to make this bandana for my sister’s birthday, she was my main caregiver after my mastectomy. She stayed with me for weeks after my surgery to help me — flushing my drains, taking me to my follow-ups, cooking delicious meals, making sure I was keeping my arms down, and tucking me into what we would endearingly term my “pillow prison”. Anyone else find that being forced to sleep on your back was one of the worst parts?
I had a month until her birthday and after having nothing to show for after the first six hour day of trying, I was starting to worry I wouldn’t have anything and might need to pivot my birthday gift idea. However, through perseverance I was able to not only make one practice bandana that my pup Pica was willing to model for me, but I also made another bandana that I gave to my sister.
There is a wonderful quote by Canadian architect, Raymond Moriyama:
“There is magic in imperfection.”
I was willing to let go of the need to knit the perfect bandana and find the magic and beauty in the imperfection. Similar to my life story right now, I am finding magic in my imperfect journey. I think that is what keeps drawing me back to crafting — it is a meditative and gentle reminder to let go, be present, and find beauty in the process.
Want to make your own Bennet Bandana? Flax & Twine’s kit has everything you need from yarn to needles to the most wonderful scissors. I chose the color Rust, but I will say Spruce was a close second.
Wood + Paint + Embroidery
After my mastectomy, many of the crafts in my collection seemed daunting. As a recovering perfectionist, I worried about starting many of them because I didn’t want to mess them up in my drug induced fog and weak mobility. One of my friends, who is an artist and crafter herself, brought over dinner one evening and a low-stakes project that my sister and I could do together.
After my mastectomy, many of the crafts in my collection seemed daunting. As a recovering perfectionist, I worried about starting many of them because I didn’t want to mess them up in my drug induced fog and weak mobility. One of my friends, who is an artist and crafter herself, brought over dinner one evening and a low-stakes project that my sister and I could do together.
I loved that my friend included my sister, my caregiver through much of this journey. I loved that she gave her the same opportunity to take a breath through artmaking. I feel like through so much of our journeys, our caregivers are the unsung heroes. They work tirelessly to make sure we are comfortable, are fed, and deal with our rollercoaster of emotions with a smile.
My sister and I took a break from the wonderful reality TV we were soaking in, sat at the kitchen table, and painted. It felt so simple, so easy, but a little over a year later, I can put myself back at the kitchen table and feel that warmth and joy. It was a time where we were just enjoying each other’s company and creating art together. It felt not only like a break from the TV but a break from the heaviness of it all.
At the end of the project, I loved that we were both given the same canvases but envisioned the pieces differently.
Not to sound too cheesy, but it did feel like the perfect metaphor — we all have different outlooks, different experiences, and different life stories, even within the lens of cancer, and yet, we can all find common ground on the same canvas.
Look out for Simple and Sylvan’s embroidery kits on Go Imagine.
Welcome Friends, I’m Natalie.
I’m currently fighting breast cancer and am an amateur craft enthusiast.
On November 3, 2022 I was diagnosed with DCIS or Stage 0 Breast Cancer in my left breast. After a couple months of deliberation, I decided to do a unilateral mastectomy and reconstruction. On February 3, 2023, I underwent my mastectomy.
I’m currently fighting breast cancer and am an amateur craft enthusiast.
On November 3, 2022 I was diagnosed with DCIS or Stage 0 Breast Cancer in my left breast. After a couple months of deliberation, I decided to do a unilateral mastectomy and reconstruction. On February 3, 2023, I underwent my mastectomy.
Prior to my surgery and throughout my recovery, friends and family would gift me creative crafts. I grew a collection of coloring books, paints, and crafting kits — from wood carving to knitting. While I was still physically and mentally recovering from the surgery and waiting for the pathology results — I found joy in using my hands to create and calm my mind. Whether it was as simple as coloring with colored pencils or painting a landscape scene, these projects would help me get out of bed and bring a little light to the discomfort I was feeling in my day to day. If you’ve been there, you know.
The week after surgery I learned that the pathology report was negative, my margins were clear, I was cancer free, I was done. The only daunting tasks left were to bring back movement into my upper body through physical therapy and the reconstruction later that Fall. As I continued to heal, I would continue to craft — getting a little more ambitious with some of the projects and trying new ones as I recovered from my reconstruction. As I approached a year after my mastectomy — I was feeling lighter, healthier, and more joyful. I planned a yoga retreat to Panama to celebrate my new lease on life and left feeling grounded, grateful for the lessons I learned over the past year, and beyond ready for my next chapter to begin.
In a cruel twist of fate, three weeks after I returned, on February 22, 2024, I learned my journey was not complete — this chapter was still being written. A suspicious area that I was told (almost too confidently) was most likely scar tissue, ended up being the same cancer and it had spread to my lymph nodes. My entire care team seemed shocked by the news — they would classify it as a recurrence. I spent the next month and a half in anger, denial, and in an unhealthy spiral of questions. Why wasn’t this caught during the first surgery? Why would I have another year and a half taken from me to focus on this disease? Why is our healthcare system so hard to navigate? Why do I have to advocate for myself while I’m also dealing with so much already? I moved through the motions and listened to what my doctors told me in a fog. On April 11th at 10:30am I would undergo my first chemotherapy treatment. This Friday, I will have my fifth infusion.
Since starting chemotherapy and in the days that I give myself to recover, I find myself navigating back towards my collection of crafts. They bring me a sense of purpose and a sense of control in the chaos of emotions and side effects.
A month ago, in a moment of kismet, I was catching up with a friend of mine and I sent the following text:
“Just crafting my way through cancer. ✨”
As soon as I sent it and saw the message staring back at me, I knew what I had to do. My intention for this blog is to create a safe space for anyone touched by cancer — whether you are also going through it, you are caregiving, or you are surviving. Through the joy of crafting, this is a place where we can share our stories and build a supportive community.