Every craftsman knows the stumble that taught them the rhythm. In care, in cooking, in code—there’s that one moment where things go wrong, and somehow, it’s where the real learning begins.
“You can’t rush the heat. Let it breathe.”
Back in 2021, I tried to teach a patient the pottery wheel. I rushed the clay. It collapsed into a lopsided, beautiful mess. Mrs. Higgins laughed and said, “That’s the one that holds the most soup.”
That slip taught me patience isn’t just a virtue—it’s the soil where dignity grows. In care, in cooking, in life: let the heat breathe.
Every mistake here in Houston—whether it’s a burnt chile or a wobbly trellis—has a place in the dome. We carry our slips with us, not as scars, but as stories.
That’s why I built this page. To collect our slips, our laughs, and the lessons that make us stronger.