I may no longer be a classroom teacher, but the lessons I learned there still shape how I create, reflect, and explore today. This post revisits my 1990s Swedish classroom—not to teach theory, but to honor the quiet, enduring values that still guide my work: flexibility, process, and a deep trust in how people learn differently.
pixelpia
My creative overflow drawer isn’t a drawer anymore—it’s ChatGPT. A place for sparks, fragments, and half-finished thoughts I haven’t let go of. And the best part? It remembers.
Not everything has to become a tutorial. In this reflection, I explore why I’ve stepped back from teaching-as-default and what I’m learning by staying present with the process instead.
Can working with emotionless machines actually make us more emotionally aware? I’m not sure yet, but it’s been on my mind this Monday.
I’m not making money from my blog, and that’s okay. What I’m making instead is space—for curiosity, creative experiments, and projects that don’t need to “succeed” to be meaningful.
I don’t see myself as an expert—and I don’t want to be one. This space isn’t about mastery. It’s about staying curious, asking questions, and protecting the joy of not knowing yet.