Devon Breithart

A few months ago, I floated the idea of a tiny, DIY, indie art show to celebrate our ceramics to my friend .studio. This weekend, we made that a reality.

What started off tongue-in-cheek became earnest pretty quickly. This night was meaningful in a way that I couldn't have predicted, and I'm so grateful for the space to explore that.

The world feels like an especially dark place right now, and I find myself often feeling conflicting emotions, unsure how to best respond at any given moment. I don't have all of the answers to that, but I do have some takeaways from the night: build community. Bring people together. Pursue your hobbies, especially those that involve making and creating. Have in-person conversations. Find space for joy. Meet your neighbors. Show up for your friends. Value the handmade. Celebrate the mundane. Do art. Never stop learning and growing. Refill your cup so you can be ready to face the world. Make the change you can in your sphere of influence.

Endless thanks to my co-conspirator Doug Fuchs. Thanks to .studio and for their excellent hosting, choring, and moral support. Thanks to , , and for flying out for this (!), lending their nice handwriting, and helping me complete my fourth Heated Rivalry watch. Thank you to the endless friends who took time out of their schedules to show up to this, say kind things about our art, and love it enough to take it home. Thank you to everyone who couldn't make it and reached out asking how they could support in other ways. Thank you to for the sage instruction and the third space.

I love you.

Today is my cancer-versary. On its face, it may seem strange to celebrate the anniversary of one of the hardest days of my life. But it represents one year of survival since diagnosis. There are many times I thought I wouldn't see this day. 

I distinctly remember being in the OT office in Palm Springs a year ago when walked in. I was waiting on my follow-up appointment to go over my colonoscopy results from the week prior. "I'm pretty sure they're going to tell me I have cancer," I told her. Why else would they make me come in person?

Sometimes when you know, you know, and as sh*tty as that realization was, I also felt pretty ready to face things. A not insignificant part of that is due to the wonderful community support I have in so many different geographic areas and facets of my life. Thank you. 

Here's to today, and March 21st, 2025.


**alCancerAwareness **alCancerAwarenessMonth

Send good vibes for my second colonoscopy!

My first one was pretty traumatic. And while I was sitting in the shower stall sobbing, a thought came to my mind: "If I'm LUCKY, I'll have to do one of these again."

Well, here we are. Lived long enough to get a second colonoscopy. Still traumatic. Still sobbed during prep. But a little bit better of a experience this time around.

**alCancer

Happy World Ostomy Day!

In March 2023, I had a sigmoid colostomy as part of my re**al cancer treatment. Honestly, I believe it saved my life, and I'm grateful for it.

Ostomies have a stigma, but this one has honestly been pretty easy to manage most of the time. If this is a thing that ever needs to happen to you, know that your life doesn't have to change significantly or reduce in quality.

Plus, I still look hot AF. So I have that going for me!