My name is Christine. I’m a writer, teacher, scholar, and photographer with a passion for helping people dig into the beauty in their everyday lives. I’m also a mama, a maker, a gypsy, a gentle guide, and a seeker of truth and beauty. 

I was that little girl building fairy houses in the backyard (before they were a thing), while devouring books like Anne of Green Gables and The Girl of the Limberlost. I started writing stories when I was seven years old and never really stopped. I loved to run my finger along the spines of mountains and snaking rivers in an old atlas my grandma gave us. I had this yearning, deep inside, to see the pyramids of Egypt, to speak Spanish under a sweltering sun, to test my fears against the edges of the known world.

I'm a writer but more than that I'm a creative. I'm of that tribe of people who wither without beauty. Maybe you are, too? Often it's the things that come for free that feed my soul the most—a full moon swelling over a slab of Utah red rock, the doughy warmth of my child's hand. I'm after more than pretty pictures on Instagram. I'm after that Platonic ideal of beauty as a transforming, restorative force. And I believe in it. I really do.

I'm a teacher at heart. George Bernard Shaw once said, "I am not a teacher; only a fellow traveler of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead—ahead of myself as well as you." I've taught many people over the years—mostly college students but also indigenous Quichua children in Ecuador, inner-city high-school students, and children who live in the Guatemala City dump. I teach creative writing and succulent design classes at the Denver Botanic Gardens and facilitate retreats at places like the Makerie and Kathy Davis Studios. In all those places, I've found that when I hold a safe space for people to listen and explore, something magical can happen. The magic isn't me. It's us together. We are fellow travelers along the way.

Won't you join me? We've got beauty to discover.


“Now here I have had an experience I shall not soon forget, something very precious, and private, and close to my soul; a feeling as though I had taken the world by surprise and seen it as it really is when off its guard—as though I had been quite near to the very core of things.”

Elizabeth von Arnim (1899)