Studio Notes: Tiny Things, Big Ideas
Daydream 004
Hi hi hi. It’s been a moment! Don’t worry—I haven’t given up on LEATHERS. It’s coming.
If I know anything about myself and my creativity, it’s that I prefer taking the scenic route. Let's wander until the sidewalk ends. Admire the roses, sip a coffee, pet the dogs, and try on a silly hat at the mall (see below). This rush-rush-rush feeling of the modern world doesn’t usually amount to good art, and making capital-C “Content” can easily get in the way of making the thing I actually want (or need) to make. Really good songs take time, so I’m giving myself the space to develop the next chapter of LEATHERS in a way that feels real to me.
In the meantime, my studio has looked like someone shrunk an entire record store and scattered it across my desk. Tiny cassette tapes waiting for their labels. Stacks of miniature VHS tapes. Tiny vinyl records in every colour of the rainbow. There’s a bit of Lucky Charms influence too: clouds, stars, hearts, moons... and enough glow-in-the-dark powder to light the way into tomorrow and beyond. I’m having a lot of fun with it.
One of the things I've been enjoying most about creating handmade pieces for Daydream Trash is how different this kind of creativity feels. Music is often collaborative, deadline-driven, and eventually leaves your hands the moment it’s released. Making these tiny objects is different. It’s personal. Quiet. Repetitive. Meditative.
Most days you’ll find me listening to records or audiobooks while I mix colours, sculpt clay, sand edges, and slowly build a little collection of memory objects, one piece at a time. Sometimes I watch Love Island too, but that’s our little secret. 😄 I recently finished Marina Abramović’s memoir Walk Through Walls, and it left me thinking about the value of devotion to a practice—of showing up, trusting your instincts, and letting the work unfold in its own time instead of forcing it toward an outcome.
I’ve also been thinking a lot about what Daydream Trash is becoming. When I started making cassette charms, I thought I was just making fun accessories inspired by songs I loved. But somewhere along the way, the collection started growing into its own universe.
Now there are worry stones for anxious days. Pet tags that celebrate the creatures we love most. Pins, ornaments, and tiny keepsakes. It all feels connected somehow. They’re small enough to disappear into a pocket, but somehow they carry an emotional weight far bigger than their size.
I’m realizing I’m not just making products—I'm building a place. A gift shop from another dimension, shaped by music, nostalgia, comfort objects, late-night thoughts, cult films, and retro record and video stores. A place for the things that stay with us.
I’m interested in making the kind of objects someone rediscovers years from now and instantly remembers exactly who they were when they found them. Tiny versions of ordinary things become symbols of discovery, obsession, friendship, heartbreak, and the strange magic of finding the right song at exactly the right moment.
In my mind, Daydream Trash has always been less of a shop and more of a tiny record store that exists somewhere between memory and a dream—a place where every shelf holds curious objects that seem to have found you, rather than the other way around.
That’s the magic I’m chasing.
I hope you have a wonderful weekend ahead. Thanks for being here while I figure it all out. I’ve got a few new things on the horizon that I’m really excited to share soon.
Until next time,
☁️🩵
Shannon
DAYDREAM TRASH is an ongoing newsletter about creativity, songwriting, tour life, late-blooming, and living on Planet Earth 🪐 — share it with a friend.
You always express yourself so well. Love all the mini creations. Love the mini-cassettes you made for me!
I love this. Sweet trinkets hold something special forever. I love watching how everything is weaving together. I 🖤🩵You