Studio Notes - A Love Note on Cardboard

This week in the studio I left myself a love note.

The air of the Pacific Northwest has purified my lungs. I am happy to be able to escape the Texas heat for a while. Consequently, my studio sat empty once again for 6 long days.

I was able to paint before I left for the PNW, working on my Wuthering Heights inspired piece. She’s fun. I’m enjoying the feminine side she brings out in me. She’s wild, borderline feral, and sexy.

Traveling home is bittersweet. On one hand, I miss the trees that raised me.

The large Douglas firs that take your breath away. They remind you that they have been around hundreds of years longer than you. They will continue to stand tall, long after you’re gone.

They don’t care to know your name, yet they care enough to clean the air you breathe.

Another aspect of traveling home is I’m a different person than the one who grew up there. Thank God.

So, it feels like a memorial of sorts every time I return. I’m grieving parts of me I left behind. Realizing they’ve been replaced with something new.

I’m finding forgiveness for myself and others in the seams of the river. Quietly thanking the man who once taught me what “seams” are and how to find them.

I went back to my old spots. Including the bridge stretched out across the Willamette River where I once stood and feared for my life. I thanked it. Without those experiences, I would have never found the fuel to move across the country trusting a gut feeling to take me there.

I realize how much resentment weighs when I come home lighter. There’s more baggage in my carry-on from the trip, but less baggage on my name.

I’m reminded every time how loved I am and the imprints I’ve made on others. Even when I was in unaware survival mode with little to give. It was always more than enough.

When I returned home, tired eyed, at 1:30 am on July 20th, I found a love note.

A cardboard sign that read “YOU ARE ENOUGH” in purple paint.

Leaving it for my future self, a reassuring sentiment that no matter what home had to offer, there was peace waiting back in Austin.

I wrote this piece in the Austin airport four days after my usual publishing time. I’m giving myself grace as I prepare to board my next flight to Chicago.

With an overpriced cold brew in one hand and a boarding pass in the other,

Sierra Koch

7-23-26