Living creatively through the seasons with Stephanie Elizabeth.

#11 ATELIER, a collaborative interview series exploring our creative spaces, processes and rituals.

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Mar 30, 2025

Hello, I am so glad you have found your way here… I’m Lyndsay — mother, creative and storyteller with a background in interiors PR.

Step inside Story & Thread., a cosy, layered home where the threads of creativity, interiors and mothering meet. Here, we unearth the stories from the seasons of our lives, with a house & a garden at the heart, and everyday beauty as our guide…

Stephanie outside the magic makers’ den.

“When I write I am astonished to lift my head and realise hours have melted into what feels like minutes. I like to feel like I am communing with both my inner child, my true creative self and Mother Nature.”

—Stephanie Elizabeth.

Dearest reader

Here we are at the end of March, how was it for you? As a shapeshifting container of change, it is not always the most comfortable of months, there is a huge shift in energy, but we are supported by the growing light and first inklings of warmth.

This weekend I have been lucky to experience the magnificence of magnolia in London, as well as a woodland walk bathed in spring sunshine, and sightings of tiny shoots making their way towards the light in my seed trays — it feels as though spring is here…?

It has been a while since I posted an ATELIER interview — in true winter style, I found myself turning inward over the past season, but just as the shoots begin to emerge, I am feeling back into the shimmers of connection and collaboration, and am so delighted to share the eleventh ATELIER interview, with

Stephanie Elizabeth

— mother, writer, grower, podcast host and seasonal living homebody, living on the Mornington Peninsula, Bunurong Country, Australia.

Since connecting here on Substack, Stephanie and I often marvel at the synchronicities unfolding within our gardens despite being at opposing times of the growth cycles — just this weekend as her cosmos flowers were coming into bloom, my cosmos seeds germinated in their seed trays, a hint of the continuity of growth. Here on Substack, Stephanie writes about slow, seasonal living and growing at her publication Splendid to Be; she hosts an online community called Mother Reader, and the Australian Homeschool Stories publication and podcast.

I invite you to discover more about Stephanie’s creative process, practices and her creative den in the latest instalment of the ATELIER series…

ATELIER, noun, [French atuh-lyey].

a workshop or studio, especially of an artist, artisan, or designer.

Tell me about yourself and your creative life.

I’m Stephanie Elizabeth, I live on the Mornington Peninsula, Bunurong Country, at the bottom of mainland Australia with my husband and our two wildlings (aged 6 and 4) and a gaggle of cheeky chickens.

To tell you about myself is to introduce you to my whole family as our lives are deeply interwoven. We are homebodies who live in a small house surrounded by a big edible garden. It is here that we grow food, cook, create, play and learn together. My husband is a musician for love and a project manager by trade, I am a writer for love and a hospitality professional by trade. We are both radical homemakers1 and our children are home educated.

My creative endeavours aren’t limited to writing, though I have loved the written word ever since I can remember. I was also a born performer — I lived in theatres as a teen and young woman before moving abroad to the UK for two seminal years where I fell in love with food and hospitality. Bakeries, providores, cafés and my own restaurant became my stage and I threw myself willingly into my career — but I barely wrote a word whilst my life revolved around work. At 30, like many women of my generation, I hit burnout. I sold my restaurant and together my husband and I left inner city Melbourne in search of a slower, simpler, more seasonally connected life on the Peninsula we have now called home for the last eight years

Becoming a mother shortly after our big move solidified what I wanted our family’s future to look like. My husband and I make space and time in our lives to create purely for creation’s sake, and we support one another to carve out time to pursue what lights us up. Creativity underpins how we parent too and we fiercely protect our children’s right to a childhood full of art and free play, steeped in connection with the natural world and our local community.

Slowly, I’ve been finding my way back to writing, but I am constantly creating in some shape or form — whether it be through reading aloud to my children, dabbling in handicrafts like sewing, knitting and embroidery, gardening, cooking and mothering. I can say with a smile on my face that my simple, everyday life is full of creativity and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Stephanie weaves creativity into her everyday life as a mother.

Where do you write and create?

Before we lived where we do now, we lived in another little house not far from here. I have a lot of happy memories in that house and garden, but there were some hard times too. It was a place that we never felt settled in. While the footprint of the house itself was almost identical to what we have now, there was one space which we felt lacking in — a creative den.

One night, lying in bed, feeling anxious and unsure of our future, I made a little sketch on a piece of scrap cardboard I had lying around. I don't remember what prompted me to draw, I don't often doodle as a creative outlet, but I drew something that ultimately I was craving. I drew this picture:

Stephanie’s doodle of her dream creative den.

It seemed a utopian longing. I popped the sketch into my journal and went on with life.

Fast forward a few months and our forever home presented itself as a possibility. We knew we had to do whatever it took to make it ours. Long story short, we found ourselves the contented owners of our little piece of paradise we now know as home. This house, this garden and this land is our haven, but down the back of the property tucked away behind the garage, nestled on the edge of the orchard, is a little piece of utopia which I have no doubt I manifested. Our studio — our magic makers’ den.

Although I know this little dwelling has existed far longer than my sketch, built by other people to accommodate their needs, somehow I intuitively knew it was meant for us.

Our little shack faces north and looks out onto our ever-changing orchard. Writing in spring, the first cherry blossoms have started forming right outside my window. Through its branches I can see the fading quince flowers, a seemingly never ending abundance of lemons, tiny green apricots expanding each day and at the very back just a tiny glimpse of the pink tips of apple blossom buds on the cusp of unfolding. There are often a family of eastern rosellas nibbling in the grass between the trees. I watch our resident crow fly in and out of his perch, an old gum tree relic that makes a beautiful sculpture over the back fence. Bees flit about busily pollinating each tree and the chickens quietly chat amongst themselves in their run.

We have both carved out corners of this space for ourselves and our hobbies. My husband who works mostly from home spends a lot more time in here than I do, but I take whatever chance I can get to hide away in this magical space. I’ll sew or record a podcast, but mostly I’ll stare out the window at the sky, the trees, the flowers and dream, and think, and ponder, and write.

My little desk, perched directly in front of the window to the orchard, is all I need. This is my happy spot, my magic place of refuge that I dreamed up all those years ago.

Here we create, dream, wonder, play and marvel at the beauty we are so fortunate to be surrounded by.

The creative cabin looks out onto the ever-changing orchard.

How do you like to approach a creative workday?

In this season of life I find myself in now, a full day of uninterrupted creativity is not a reality. I am at peace with this. My time will come. I give myself willingly to my family at present.

To create independently, I have to steal pockets of time for myself. I write mostly at night after the children have gone to sleep. I’ve tried (and still long to) wake before the children do, sneak out to the studio and write for an hour each morning but my daughter is an early riser (I mean, dark early) and my son still doesn’t sleep through the night, so this isn’t a sustainable option, yet.

To write I need silence. A clutter free space. Preferably a view to nature. Hence why our studio is my ideal environment. I don’t have any special rituals at present other than putting my phone out of sight, opening a blank page and seeing what pours out.

Are your surroundings important to you?

Yes. Writing at night isn’t my preference because the natural world is darkened.

I draw immense comfort and inspiration from the interplay of wind and light that dance through the leaves of the trees and from the sound of birdsong. Any chance I get to write during daylight, I’ll take.

How do you like to feel whilst you are working?

Finding my flow state is the natural high I’m always seeking.

When I write I am astonished to lift my head and realise hours have melted into what feels like minutes. I like to feel like I am communing with both my inner child, my true creative self and Mother Nature. I want to feel connected to myself and to offer myself in connection with others.

How do you set the tone and energy of your environment?

Home is where I create therefore I will speak to the tone and energy of my home. It is full of love, colour, greenery, flowers, books, vintage pieces of furniture I have collected over the years and lots of handmade treasures. It is tactile, lived in, cosy, and uniquely us. There are art and craft supplies on most surfaces, cupboards overflowing with glass jars I can’t seem to stop collecting and the walls are lined with my children’s creations.

My little corner of our studio is quite bare in comparison. I keep nothing on my desk, bar the implements I need to write, and my sewing machine, craft books and fabric stash are within arms reach.

I let the orchard be my changing canvas, my ever present muse in motion.

Stephanie’s sewing machine and creative essentials.

Do you have one place dedicated to your creative work, or do you move around?

Whilst the studio is my preferred creative space, I will also write in the living room of our house at my daughter’s desk or snuggled up in my favourite armchair beside my beloved pink bookcase when journalling by hand.

Where do you source creative inspiration?

Our simple, slow, seasonal life, our garden and the natural world. We have strong values that guide the choices we make and how we choose to live and I love sharing our journey with others who may be wanting to live a more connected, creative and gentle life too.

Reflecting on the simple pleasures of our slow life at home brings me joy and makes me grateful for all that we have, where we’ve been and where we are headed. It is also impossible to not be inspired when you share a home with three other creative souls. Creativity is infectious.

The door to Stephanie and family’s creative den.

Do you have any rituals around your work?

I write when I feel a longing to and don’t force myself to write if I have nothing to say. I am very gentle with my art. I ask nothing of it other than to bring me joy.

I have found that the seasons have a crucial influence on my creativity. In winter, I rarely write. I find myself drawn to reading and knitting when the world is cold and dark.
During spring and summer I am unstoppable. Ideas, thoughts and words pour out of me quicker than I can keep up with or remember. I turn to my sewing machine in summer too when the daylight hours are longer and I have unquenchable energy to dig into projects I’ve been dreaming up.
In autumn, I see what sticks and gently wind down into what feels most nourishing. Honouring our seasonal creativity, particularly as women who are so attuned to the shifts of Mother Nature, is something I highly recommend.

Go where your heart pulls you and create for creativity’s sake alone.

What would your dream creative studio space look like?

Exactly like the one I have now. How lucky I feel to write that. How grateful I am. What I dream about is time to spend in it. It will come. It will come. It will come.

I loved learning how Stephanie weaves creativity into her life as a mother; how she honours the ebb and flow within the process and recognises her creativity being deeply aligned with the seasons. Stephanie’s mantra “it will come” felt like a deep exhale, as I too navigate the inevitable interruptions when creating alongside mothering — a timely reminder that there is a season for everything.

Do you find your creativity to be aligned with the seasons? How does it shift throughout the year?

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into Stephanie’s creative world and magic makers’ den — as always, your thoughts and own experiences are so welcome in the comments.