Studio Roots:
There’s a unique kind of pride that comes with carving out a space in the world—a physical, tangible place where dreams can take root and grow. That’s what my studio was to me: a sanctuary of creativity, a symbol of independence, and a testament to my audacity to say, This is mine.
But life, as it often does, had other plans.
I opened my first studio in Jtown, Kentucky, in December—bright-eyed and full of ambition. By March, the world shut down. COVID-19 swept across the globe, closing doors and choking dreams. For a long time, I blamed the pandemic for the collapse of that dream. It was a convenient villain, a neat explanation for the unraveling of something I had poured my soul into. But the truth? The truth was messier.
I loved the idea of having a studio, but I knew nothing about running a business. I didn’t take the time to learn about finance or business management. I underestimated what it truly meant to lead, to sustain, to thrive in that space. And when I moved into a second studio, thinking I had learned my lessons, I made new mistakes. It was a perfect storm of what not to do.
Still, I hold onto the beauty that came from those experiences. From that first studio, I’m deeply proud of one project: The Ladybird Jenkins Boxes. Noah and Nathan, two adults living with autism, became collaborators in this dream. I hired them, worked alongside them, and together we created something magical. It wasn’t just about the boxes; it was about giving them skills, confidence, and the dignity of a paycheck. I still remember the pride when Noah used those skills to land a job. That dream isn’t forgotten. It’s waiting, like embers ready to ignite again.
The second studio was different—a bright storefront that felt like a beacon for creativity. I hosted kids’ camps there, filling the space with their wonder and unfiltered imagination. Seeing their faces light up as they painted, built, and dreamed was nothing short of magical. For those moments, I understood the profound gift of being a guide for others’ creativity.
But I was a one-woman show. The weight of running the studio, managing everything alone, and battling my mental health struggles was too much. I let it fail because I couldn’t hold it all together. And while that failure stings, it also taught me hard, necessary lessons about humility, resilience, and the strength it takes to try again.
The truth is, those studios were crucibles—places where I learned more about myself than I ever expected. My intentions were pure, my passion undeniable, but my execution was flawed. And that’s okay. Failure doesn’t negate the beauty of what was created, the lives that were touched, or the lessons learned. It shapes us, sharpens us, and prepares us for what comes next.
So, while the doors of those studios are closed, their spirit lives on—in my work, in my dreams, and in every project I bring to life.
As you can see from the gallery, the spirit of these studios was undeniable—filled with creativity, collaboration, and the magic of shared imagination.
And let me say this with a wink and a promise: The Ladybird Jenkins Boxes is not forgotten. Once world fame has been graciously bestowed upon me, I fully intend to reignite this project, shining a brilliant light on its mission and bringing awareness to incredible communities like the HIVe. Until then, I’ll keep those embers alive, waiting for the perfect moment to fan them into a blazing flame.
Watch more about my journey with the studio you can watch a podcast that I did with Ted Davies
If The Ladybird Jenkins Boxes idea resonates with you, or if you know someone who might be interested in hearing more about this project, feel free to reach out for more information. Together, we can keep this dream alive and expand its reach.
For those who would like to connect directly with Nathan or Noah to hear their stories, or if you’d like to learn more about the amazing work happening at the HIVE, you can find them here:
Website: thehivebg.org
Contact Information:
Hours: Monday–Thursday, 9 AM – 3 PM
Office: (502) 532-4480 (Monday–Friday, 9–5)
Email: office@thehivebg.org
Address: 1818 US 31 W Bypass, Bowling Green, KY 42101
The HIVE, Inc. is a Bowling Green, KY-based nonprofit that believes the time to reboot the system for adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities is now. At the HIVE, they create opportunities for people who want to learn, grow, connect, and experience new things. They find solutions for our friends with intellectual and developmental disabilities—and they have the coolest clubhouse around.