& Maker of Good Trouble
- Journalist, visual artist & storytelling educator for over 50 years
- Creator of the StoryGlass Method
- Founder of The StoryGlass Studio with AI-assisted digital tools so simple a child could use them
Hi. I'm Meri. And I know just what you're sitting with.
At 70, a wildfire took my house, my possessions, and a lifetime of photographs — my family's and my own. Nothing left but what was in the iPhone I threw in a paper bag as I ran out the door. When those things were gone, I realized I didn't just lose my home and all my stuff.
Until you lose everything, you don't realize how much the things you live with tell you who you are. Your grandmother's china. The photos on the wall. The books. The letters. Your kids' baby pictures and report cards. When they're gone, your memory becomes a mess. Like the most snarled wad of fishing line you ever saw.
I spent 18 months running from that fact — driving an RV around the country, visiting people I'd known and places I'd lived, hoping something out there could help me recover myself. Nothing could. Because here's what I finally had to face: my identity had been shattered. I had nowhere to live. I was running out of money. And all I had were the few photographs still on my iPhone.
Eventually I ended up in this tiny apartment where I live now, sitting with that truth. One day I picked up an old iPad and started digitally painting over images I'd made in the ashes of my house.
As I did that, something shifted. My memory started activating again. Not the sentimental kind — the useful kind.
I started interviewing the photographs while I was painting them — in the same way I had interviewed people when I was a journalist. Asking them to help me understand what happened helped me recall detail I thought was gone. And slowly, story by personal story, I started seeing myself again. Not who I used to be — who I am now, having learned from everything those photographs held.
That's what I want for you. Not a memoir project. Not a scrapbook. A way of sitting with your photographs — really sitting with them — until the story they've been holding for you finally comes out.
Your memory isn't just a record of the past. It's the thread that holds your identity together.
And when you shape that memory into a personal story and share it with someone you love, you don't just pass something on — although that's a big thing you do.
We remember what it was to grow up with stories that shaped us. Meaning is carried on breath — in bodies using human voices, willing to pass wisdom gleaned from a life actually lived.
We remember what it felt like to listen until something ancient stirred in us.
Every time you tell a personal story, you reclaim who you are. And you give your people something they'll carry for the rest of their lives.
That discovery became The StoryGlass.
This is not nostalgia. This is resistance. We are transmitting live values — while we still can.
What I've discovered and now started teaching others is the most powerful work I have ever done.