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Tammy Gilley | Story. Wisdom. Soul. Light.
Start Here
Blog
Retreats
Resources
Shop
About
Contact
Start Here
Blog
Retreats
Resources
Shop
About
Contact
The Studio Mercantile Art Print: The Story Shifts the Moment I Begin to Listen
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Art Print: The Story Shifts the Moment I Begin to Listen

$4.50

A gentle unveiling before the journey begins.

Add To Cart

A gentle unveiling before the journey begins.

A gentle unveiling before the journey begins.

This downloadable art print features the soul truth “The story shifts the moment I begin to listen.” written in elegant script and framed by soft, watercolor splashes. It’s a quiet invitation to remember what has always lived within you—a sacred homecoming to your own knowing.

Let this piece grace your creative space, sacred nook, or journaling altar. A visual whisper to come home to yourself and trust the truth that’s been patiently waiting to be remembered.

Details:
• High-resolution PDF (8x10")
• Suitable for home printing or professional print services
• For personal use only

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I’m on a mission to:

Create a space for women like you who are ready to slow down, step back, and give themselves permission to be seen – not as they think they should be, but as they truly are.

You’ve lived a life, full of moments and seasons, and now you may be wondering how to integrate those pieces, how to honor what has been and make room for what is yet to come.

That’s the essence of The Soulful Journey. It isn’t about striving or pushing forward. It’s about allowing.


Allowing yourself to soften into your own becoming.
Allowing your story to reveal itself, layer by layer.
Allowing your creative spirit to lead you, gently, into a deeper relationship with yourself.

Welcome. You’re right on time.

The Train to Varenna

The train pulled away from Milan just as the afternoon light began to soften the city’s hard edges. She sat by the window, fingers wrapped around a small paper cup of espresso gone cold, watching her reflection flicker ove
The Lavender Path

She’d signed up for a month-long artist’s retreat at the edge of a small village, a quiet cluster of shutters and slate roofs perched above the Dordogne. Her room overlooked a garden filled with rosemary, thyme, and sof
Sometimes the most profound shift isn’t something new—
It’s the quiet recognition of what’s always been true.
The breath you didn’t know you were holding,
finally released.
The deep yes beneath your longing.

This week o
The Window on Rue des Martyrs

She arrived in Paris on a drizzly Wednesday, her suitcase wheels clicking over the wet cobblestones like a heartbeat. She had rented a small apartment in Montmartre, just above a florist’s shop where the scent of
Soul Truth: I am being revealed to myself.

Last fall, during a quiet retreat, I wrote this phrase in my journal without fully knowing why.
Not “I’m finding myself” or “I’m becoming someone new.”
But:
I am being re
There comes a moment—quiet and unmistakable—when a woman realizes her story isn't behind her.

It’s unfolding still.
Layer by layer.
Brushstroke by brushstroke.

She begins to see her life not as something to edit or perfect, but as
She almost didn’t open the sketchbook that morning.

There were dishes in the sink, emails in her inbox, and a voice in her head whispering, What’s the point? But something softer stirred too—a quiet tug, a pulse of longing, a tiny
I used to think “becoming” was a forward motion.

Something you moved toward.
An arrival.
A before and after.

But now I think it’s softer than that.

Becoming feels more like circling.
Returning.
Tending.
Letting go and beginning a

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