Hi, I’m Alice…
Creative seeker.
Intuitive listener.
Joyful unlearner.
Moved - easily, often - by beauty, grief, wonder and the way light makes the ordinary sacred.
I make spaces for what’s been buried to rise. For what no longer fits to fall away. For what’s next to speak.
Welcome to The Studio.
I’m so glad you found us.
An Experience That Shaped Me
In my early thirties, my father passed away. A man who had worked his whole life - focused, disciplined, saving joy like he saved his pennies - always for “someday.”
He was forced into retirement at 62,
and came alive in a way I’d never seen:
he spent time with friends, picked up hobbies, learned to play -
maybe for the first time.
There was a rightness to it all, like watching color bloom
in something that had too long existed in grayscale.
And then, just like that, cancer came.
At 64, he was gone.
I held my father’s hand as he exhaled for the last time
and watched as a gold light shimmered above him.
He had always struggled in his body - weighed down by racism, by obesity,
by the quiet grief of a life where joy and belonging often felt out of reach.
Our relationship was complicated and full of missed moments, but in that moment, I saw him unbound: a soul pure and luminous.
And the tears came —
for his leaving, and for the beauty of seeing him,
at last, fully expressed and free in his truest form.
Watching my father pass cracked something open in me.
I saw how fragile “someday” really is.
We never truly know how long we have to become ourselves -
or how much of our lives we’ll spend being someone else.
For a brief span of time at the end of his existence
my father leaned towards alignment - and came alive.
I wonder who he might have been, who we might have been -
if he’d felt like he could live from that place sooner.
And I also wonder how many of us wait until we’re walking on the edge of life to finally come home to ourselves?
We live in a world that piles layers over who we really are.
A world that rewards performance, punishes pause,
and teaches us to trade joy for safety,
intuition for logic, relationship for productivity.
Some of us inherit more freedom to resist this than others. But all of us are born radiant.
What if we remembered this?
What if we protected what’s tender,
nurtured what’s becoming,
and came back to our own light?
This is the way I’m choosing to live -
Slower, messier, more alive.
Less security, more possibility.
Less achievement, more meaning.
A way where laughter, wonder, and presence are foundations, not afterthoughts.
A way where how I am
shapes how I help the world become what it could be.
I created The Unlearning Studio as a home for this kind of remembering -
As a place for those ready to return to who they’ve always been. Not to fix. Not to strive.
But to become, in good company through the power of making together with our heads, hearts and hands.
A place rooted in the inquiry:
What if joy, connection, and creativity are what make life worth living and medicine for a world deeply in need of healing?
This is the world I’m walking towards.
Come walk beside me.
Paths I’ve Traced in the World
I’ve led teams and organizations.
Worked in leadership, social impact, education, philanthropy and business.
Studied Polynesian and Native American history, geology, theatre, design, healing, and emergence.
Coached people through transitions and across thresholds.
Each path has left me with questions and lessons —
about power, about care,
about the shape life takes when we forget ourselves,
and what unfolds when we remember.
My Own Unlearning
That sensitivity is weakness.
That beauty is frivolous.
That worth is measured in speed and productivity.
That rest and joy must be earned.
That I must carry the weight of things alone.
Where My Joy Lives
Making with my hands. Moving my body.
Singing harmonies. Playing with color.
Snuggling my dachshunds.
Cooking meals that nourish and gather.
Creating beautiful things for the people I love.
Honoring what’s common among us, while tending what’s uniquely mine.
Letting joy interrupt me.
What I See in Others
In the many people I’ve coached, the most powerful gifts are often hidden - sensitivity, intuition, creativity, care. The world doesn’t always celebrate them. But we do.
The Truths I Carry
There are aches I live with:
belonging everywhere and nowhere,
the loss of children I could not have,
a family that could never quite connect,
the helplessness of witnessing pain I cannot mend.
They walk with me - reminders of why gentleness, beauty, and community are necessary.
Everyday Uprisings
Rest.
Play.
Laughter.
Art.
Dressing in color.
As nourishment for the hard realities of life.
As sparks that ignite futures we can’t yet imagine.
My Living Questions
What makes a world worth saving?
What makes a life well lived?
The same things, I wonder.
Less the speed of our days,
and more the depth of our seeing.
Less how much we’ve accomplished,
and more how present we are
with the people around us.
Less what we’ve accumulated,
and more how well we’ve tended.
Less rightness, more realness.
Less control and comparison,
more courage, creativity, and care.
Show me —
because I want to live there.
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