Okay, so technically, Eldermother has existed for a little longer than a year - if you count the times I started, stopped, doubted everything, and then gave it another go…
But it’s been roughly one full year since I re-opened my Etsy shop with proper intention and didn’t give up this time - so I thought it was worth pausing for a quiet moment of reflection.
The Soothsayer Talisman
Manifesting a Dream
Whenever a new idea takes root in my mind, I find it near-impossible to keep things small. What starts as a flicker of inspiration quickly becomes something sprawling - like a seed that doesn’t just grow, but shoots up into a great, wild tree with branches stretching off in every direction.
For me, selling jewellery, photography, or whatever else I feel compelled to make has never been just a side hustle. It’s a way of pushing back against corporate greed, treading more lightly on the Earth, finding connection, and holding onto something essentially human in an increasingly disconnected world.
Alright, maybe that’s a lot to pin on a small business run from a bedroom - but it’s exactly that sense of purpose that keeps me going whenever the doubt starts to creep in.
Megin Necklace
So then - what exactly is the dream? And where do I stand, one year in?
The dream itself is fairly simple. I want to live quietly and self-sufficiently, earning a living through my art. No bosses, no dependence on broken systems, no chasing after things that don’t matter. If society were to fall apart tomorrow - and some days it really does feel like we’re on the edge - I’d want to know that I could look after myself. I’d like to be growing my own food, making with my hands, and living in tune with the land around me. A slower, more honest way of life - one that doesn’t rely on anyone else’s rules or expectations.
There’s a lot more I could say about that - about anti-capitalism, resilience, and why this current world only pushes me further towards that vision - but I’ll save that for another post.
What I will say is that this pull towards a quieter, more intentional life isn’t a new idea. It’s something I’ve carried with me since I was a child. Back then, I found the most joy in drawing, painting, and making things - getting lost in my imagination and the natural world around me. That creativity felt like magic. Over the years, I’ve tried to step away from it - tried to follow the life I thought I was supposed to live, shaped by the expectations of the world and the people around me - but somehow, I always end up finding my way back.
Being an artist is more than just a job or a title - it’s the truest part of who I am. It grounds me, brings me closer to the rhythms of the earth, and reminds me to pay attention to the quiet details that often go unnoticed. It helps me feel more connected, not only to myself, but to others who see the world in similar ways. In a world that so often feels disconnected and chaotic, creating has become my way of rooting down - of remembering what really matters.
So, after one year - how far from the dream am I? I’m still a fair way off from living that dream in full, but the foundations are starting to take shape. Since the last time I gave this a go, I’ve learnt so much - about myself, my craft, and what it actually takes to build something sustainable. My skills have improved, my vision feels clearer, and thanks to my day job in marketing, I’ve gained a much better understanding of how to present and share my work. One of the biggest lessons I’ve taken to heart is that slow growth is not only okay - it’s the right path for me. I want to grow this in a way that’s kind to myself and true to the work I create, without burning out or losing sight of why I started. Things are still small, but they’re moving - and I trust that with time, I’ll get there.
Heart of the Moors Necklace (Brown)
Wild Highs, Weary Lows
Like anything worth doing, the first year has come with its fair share of ups and downs. There have been moments of pure joy - when something I’ve made resonates with someone, or when I see real progress in my craft - but there have also been times when things have felt heavy, uncertain, or just plain exhausting. Still, I try to see every stumble and setback as something useful - experiences that are shaping me into a better artist, a more grounded business owner, and someone more equipped for the long road ahead.
Money Talk
One of the first things I want to reflect on is the money side of things - because while it can feel a bit awkward to talk about, it’s such a big part of running a creative business, and something I’m learning to be more open and honest about. In the last financial year, Eldermother brought in a total turnover of £1,119.69. When you weigh that against my outgoings of £1,680.40, it does mean I ended the year with a net loss of £560.71.
But honestly? I’m still really proud of that figure. Its more than I’ve ever made in my first year of running a creative business, and to me, that’s a clear sign that I’m finally on the right path. A friend of mine - who also runs a small business - reminded me a few months back that in your first year, it’s totally normal to make a loss. The second year, you aim to break even, and by the third, you might start turning a profit. Of course, that’s just a rough guide, and everyone’s journey is different, but it’s something I’ve found comfort in and am loosely aiming towards.
A big chunk of my spending last year went on setup costs, materials, and - if I’m being honest - a few things I didn’t really need. But over the past few months, I’ve become much more mindful about where my money is going. Since the start of 2025, I’ve been pretty much breaking even month to month, so I’m hopeful that this next year will be a stronger one financially. Small steps, but steady ones.
The Seeress Talisman
Unexpected Favourites
One of the strangest - and most exciting - things this year has been seeing which pieces really took off. When you’re used to things selling in ones and twos, the idea of having a best-seller feels completely alien. But my Fern Earrings quickly became just that - an instant favourite that’s been flying out consistently since I first launched them. My Heart of the Moors necklaces, while a bit more of an investment, really found their audience over Christmas and into the New Year, with the entire collection selling out in January. These two designs have become cornerstones of my shop, and going forward, I’ll be doing my best to keep them stocked and available.
Fern Earrings (Silver)
A Song Rekindled
For those of you who’ve followed my creative journey for a while, you’ll know that music has always been a huge part of my life. I’ve fronted a gothic metal band, Edenfall, for the past sixteen years, and I’ve also had a few solo projects alongside that too. But aside from the heavy stuff, playing the harp and writing dark folk music has always held a special place in my heart.
Edenfall. Photo taken by Beccy Dancer, 2023.
After my last solo project, YYLVA, dissolved a few years ago, I found myself in a bit of a creative drought. I wasn’t writing, and the harp started gathering more dust than notes. But a few months ago, I was invited to perform as part of a collective for Goth Moth events at York Cemetery Chapel - and something clicked. Those evenings have been incredibly healing and inspiring. I’ve made lifelong friends and had the chance to collaborate with some truly amazing artists (you can read more about that experience here), and they’ve reminded me why I fell in love with music in the first place.
At the start of the year, I never imagined music would become a part of Eldermother - but it feels right. It embraces every aspect of who I am as an artist. I’ll always love metal and performing with Edenfall, but there’s something about the harp, about folk music, that speaks from a deeper place. It grounds me, connects me to something ancient, and lets me express my most authentic self.
Live at York Cemetery Chapel. Photo taken by Paul Baxter, 2025.
Looking ahead, I’m hoping that by weaving music back into my business model - through writing and releasing more music, playing live shows, and perhaps even creating limited edition merchandise or physical music releases - I’ll open up a whole new and sustainable income stream. It’s still early days, but it feels like I’m finally creating a world where all parts of my creativity can exist side by side.
But of course, it hasn’t all been smooth sailing - there have been some very real challenges along the way too.
When Nothing Sold
One of the biggest learning curves of my first year came in the form of my very first craft market, back in October at Blackthorn Ritualistic Folk’s Samhain Gathering. I’d been really eager to give markets a go - it’s something I’ve always dreamed of doing, and something I still want to pursue in 2025. But this first experience brought with it a handful of challenges that I didn’t quite anticipate.
Compared to other stallholders, my table felt… chaotic. I’d brought display pieces, thought through my layout in my head, but didn’t practice setting it up beforehand - and that was a big mistake. The table I was given was smaller than I’d expected, and I ended up with far too much stock crammed into too little space. It just didn’t look as good as I’d hoped, and deep down, I knew in the moment I stepped back to take it all in. I felt unprepared, out of place, and frustrated that I hadn’t done my work justice.
Another unexpected challenge was how difficult I found it to actually engage with people. I’m not the most outgoing person by nature, and while I can talk to people easily if they approach me first, I really struggled with initiating conversations. Having my partner Rob with me was comforting - but I also realised, with hindsight, that I probably leaned on him a bit too much. It was easier to retreat into chatting with him than push myself out of my shell. I spent the day overthinking every interaction, feeling this strange mix of self-doubt and hope, trying to will people to stop and connect with my work - while battling the voice in my head that kept telling me I wasn’t doing enough.
Acorn Earrings
By the end of the day, I hadn’t made a single sale, and I went home feeling really gutted. Not just because of the lack of income, but because it felt like all the time, effort, and energy I’d poured into preparing had somehow fallen flat. But after taking some time to reflect, I started to see it as an experience I needed to have. I now know what I could improve, and I’m already thinking about how I’ll do things differently next time. It wasn’t a failure - it was a first attempt.
Burnt Out and Still Burning
Something I’ve not spoken about too much publicly yet, but has shaped a huge part of my journey this year, is my recent ADHD diagnosis. It came in March, after months (actually, years) of struggling with things I couldn’t quite name - and finally getting that confirmation has been a strange mixture of grief and relief. Suddenly, a lot of my difficulties made more sense.
Photo taken by Garett Mensching, 2023.
Running a business while working full-time has always been tough, but ADHD adds a whole extra layer of chaos. Time management feels impossible most days - tasks pile up, to-do lists get lost, and things that I want to do end up feeling like mountains I can’t climb. I procrastinate constantly, not out of laziness, but because I don’t know where to start. Then there’s the rejection sensitivity - where even the smallest bit of criticism or being ignored can spiral into something that knocks me off course entirely. I lose interest quickly, even in things I care deeply about, and staying organised feels like I’m constantly trying to catch water in my hands.
All of this has made running my business feel overwhelming at times, and it’s affected my mental health more than I care to admit. I’ve been in a state of burnout more often than not - always tired, always overthinking, always feeling like I should be doing more. And that feeling? It can be really heavy. It makes it hard to keep going, even when I know I love what I do.
But I’m hopeful. I’m currently waiting to start medication, and I’m optimistic that it will help me gain a little more focus and clarity - maybe even a little more kindness toward myself, too. I’m learning to work with my brain rather than constantly fighting against it. It’s still a journey, but having a name for it - and knowing I’m not alone - is a powerful first step.
Photo taken by Beccy Dancer, 2024.
Losing Sight of the Heart
One thing I’ve really noticed over the past year is how much time I’ve ended up spending on everything but making. Marketing, admin, emails, website tweaks - all important parts of running a business, of course - but they’ve gradually started to take priority over the thing that started it all: creating. When I’m making, I feel grounded. It gives my mind a chance to breathe, to drift, and to process. It’s the part that keeps me sane, and it’s what gives this whole thing its soul. I know I need to shift the balance back - not only for my mental health, but because keeping the shop stocked with new work is what brings people in. It’s time to carve out more space for making again!
Turning the Wheel
As I step into the second year of this journey, I feel more rooted than ever in what I want to build. I’ll be continuing to expand my jewellery collection, refining old ideas and letting new ones bloom - but Eldermother was never meant to be just one thing. I have a growing collection of photography prints ready to share, and I’m hoping to explore larger macramé decor pieces alongside my wearable work. With a Fine Art background that’s been long neglected, I’m also quietly gathering the courage to return to painting again - and hopefully, make space for more original artworks in the not-too-distant future.
Highgate Cemetery. Photo taken by Eldermother, 2022.
Musically, I’m working away behind the scenes on my first solo EP - a body of dark folk songs written from the bones - and I’d love to play more live shows in special, atmospheric places that resonate with the stories I’m telling. I’m also hoping to find more collaborations with other artists and musicians walking a similar path.
On the practical side, I’m determined to face more markets head-on. I already have a couple booked for the summer and, armed with everything I learned last year, I’m hoping they’ll become a much bigger part of my journey.
But above all, I want to keep growing a space that feels real - building a community of like-minded souls who share a love for nature, magic, honesty, and the slow, sustainable life I’m working toward. I’ve rediscovered my voice through this process - in music, in art, and in writing - and this next chapter is about nurturing all of those parts of myself as I keep moving forward.
If you made it this far, thank you - truly. It means the world to have people alongside me on this strange, winding path. Whether you’ve just arrived or you’ve been here from the start, thank you for sticking with me. I’m so glad you’re here!