Silversmithing has always been my anchor. Since learning in 2020, I quickly used my time in the studio as a meditation. Working with my hands is grounding for me, putting my ADHD + anxious brain into a level of constant calm that doesn’t happen with much else.

Pre living on the road, I would structure my day with the easy, mundane tasks first over coffee, eat some breakfast and head to the studio for a few hours. Once the hands got shaky (i.e. Meghan needs to eat) I’d head inside, do some more admin work, take a little break, and head back out the the studio after dinner for a few more hours of work.

I knew moving into the camper would mess up this routine — not only from the day to day, but also with the feasibility of working exactly when I wanted to (enter: daylight and weather). I had that expectation, but somehow I lost the understanding that smithing needed to still be the foundation of my day. I quickly got caught up in marketing and setting up wholesale + new revenue streams, and I put off the making, chalking it up to wind most of the time.

But with silversmithing being my place of grounding, you can probably imagine that my anxiety started to ramp up a bit more than I’m used to. The spiraling thoughts and having high, and sometimes unreasonable, expectations for myself and my business did not contribute to dopamine production (and therefore motivate my ADHD brain).

I started to feel uninspired by what I was making, like a failure for not meeting my self-imposed expectations, and just all around ~blah~

I had a conversation with my partner about this, and he reminded me of my why. Why I started this business. It wasn’t for money and marketing work — it was because I wanted to make jewelry I’m proud of and to share that with the world. I was so busy transitioning the backend of the business to the road and worried about the weather that I didn’t have the safe space needed to have an inspired creative output; I didn’t create space for my why.

So an assessment of work load and restructuring of priorities is in progress. I’m re-focusing my energy on the pieces that are exciting me (necklaces at the moment!) and prioritizing making everyday, even if only for 30 minutes.

^ the real challenges of running my business on the road thus far.

Now on to the travel side of things —

After Lake Havasu we ended up on the border of the Coconino National Forest and the Verde River! This spot is largely undiscovered, so we didn’t have any neighbors or much traffic around the area (besides the cows across the canyon).

I wish this photo did the location justice! Border of Coconino National Forest, Arizona

Sadie getting carried home after stepping on cactus needles

Red and snow tipped mountains, fields of grass, a canyon and running (!) river, a herd of deer living 300 feet from camp, and lots of cows. Sadie found her instinctual love for birding, and as a result also found lots of cactus needles in her paw (she’s fine).

This spot was super close to Jerome, Arizona and Cottonwood, Arizona two little towns I highly recommend visiting if you’re ever in the area. We spent a day browsing and feasting in these two areas, and it was such a blast. Jerome is an old mining town built into the side of a hill filled with wineries and art. When we drove through, we felt like we entered America’s version of old-town Italy. Tall buildings stacked together, skinny winding roads, all built into the hillside.

We spent a morning walking through all of the shops in Jerome, and then headed to the Gold King Mine — a ghost town tourist attraction filled with old trucks and cars (the big draw for my partner). Plus, there were chickens, a posturing turkey, and a bunch of very affectionate goats that kept me happy.

The goat really liked scratches behind his horns

The old trucks and cars were cool too, though —

Gold King Mine Ghost Town; Jerome, Arizona

After Jerome and the Gold Mine we headed to Cottonwood for a late lunch. The spot we ended up at was a farm to table restaurant and winery — so you could say we ate well. The historical district in Cottonwood doesn’t have the same overwhelming number of cool shops as Jerome, but we did find ourselves in a speciality olive oil store. The wine from lunch may have contributed to a few ingredient purchases.

My partner and I have to laugh a bit though, because I think we’re officially adults now — we had a blast spending our day looking at art galleries and buying specialty olive oils.

On to Tonto National Forest

Errand day followed our fun day on the town, and then we headed to the Tonto National Forest just outside of Phoenix, Arizona to meet up with some friends.

Jenni is an artist friend of mine that I meet with every week online (you can check out her gorgeous work here). When I first started Meghan Elisabeth Art, I joined an artist support group that meets every Thursday morning. We talk about everything from creative blocks to business, and it’s been a constant for me over the last 2-3 years. Jenni is one of the four other women that have continued to show up after all this time. And she lives in Pheonix! So of course we had to meet up and go camping.

It was so incredible hanging out in person, and our partners and dogs really hit it off too —

They hung out with us for a day and a half before heading home, but we decided to stick around for the week, because this campsite was absolutely stunning.

According to Jenni, the only green this area normally has is on the cacti. But there was green grass, wildflowers, and bushes (that usually look like a jumble of sticks).

We had a day of rain, but the rest of the week was beautiful. We’ll be back if we ever end up in the area again.

Overall feeling check-in?

We still love living in Bruce. We’re getting the hang of living on the road — errands and moving days feel routine and take less and less mental energy to plan and conduct. The winter weather has been a bit weird this year, so we’re not able to recreate outdoors the ways we would normally. So we feel a little in limbo waiting for weather to pass, but we’re in high spirits and Bruce has yet to feel too small for our little family.