I think everyone has a place they go, someone they call, or something they reach for when it all feels impossible.
There's a Pōhutakawa tree at home that has become that thing for me. Dad and I planted it at Somewhere when MM turned five in 2021 and whenever I'm feeling wobbly I ask him if there's any new growth on the tree. It's become a bit of a good luck omen. Mum and I planted Ralph's placenta at the base after he was born, so I like to imagine Ralph's life is strengthening its roots and enriching its soil.
This bomber was inspired by sheepskin jackets worn by men and women brave enough to go up to the clouds in a tin can. I hope some of that resilience from eighty years ago lives on in this piece, designed to be the warmest of jackets for the coldest of winters, and crafted with the kind of care that outlast seasons.
Last October, in the midst of a first trimester that had brought me to my knees countless times, I text Dad. He replied, "There's more growth on our tree than I've seen in years." It was all I needed to hear. As good a reminder as any that even when it all feels impossible, a wall is just a door: Push.
