The algorithm made me do it
If you’ve flipped through Architectural Digest this month or fallen down a Pinterest rabbit hole recently, you’ve seen it: stained glass, the mid‑century kaleidoscopic daydream, is back. Not in that sad church basement way, but in that impossibly photogenic, influencer apartment in Copenhagen way that makes you question all your previous life choices and paint selections.
My 10 foot tall bedroom doors volunteered as tribute the moment I watched @wantzamora on instagram put removable faux leadlines onto a window. A few clicks later, Amazon cart overflowing with window film and Gallery Glass, I’d committed.
The camera roll knew first
Digging through old photos, I noticed stained glass captured on past trips and museum visits—little colorful breadcrumbs my brain collected before I could articulate why. Usually I plan a DIY project within an inch of its life but this time was urgent. I skipped the research phase entirely, desperate to begin.


The craft is the therapy
I started this project in the aftermath of a devastating medication reaction I actually thought was the end. Something meant to help instead created a darkness so profound I couldn't recognize myself in it. Unable to face the mess it had made of my brain and nervous system, I needed this project to focus on.
I made up the pattern as I went along, picking colors and changing the look on impulse. No plans, just vibes. It helped that I was working with materials I'd never used before. They are user-friendly, almost foolproof. The process demanded focus on tons of little details, each one pulling me out of rumination and deeper into the present moment.
What I didn't realize at the time was that I was unconsciously processing the trauma using a medium with a history I knew little about. Just casually participating in centuries of tradition.
The color is emotional
Stained glass isn't just pretty, it's quite literally playing with your brain chemistry. When colors interact with natural light, which constantly shifts throughout the day and seasons, stained glass windows create ever-changing environmental experiences. That dynamic quality combined with the way the eye processes transmitted light1, fundamentally changes how viewers respond. Thus the medium is often associated with renewal, transformation, or spiritual healing. And if anyone needs those things, it's your girl. As in all color theory, red energizes, blue calms, green recalibrates.
TLDR: I now have instant dopamine, no screen required.


The apartment needed it
Once the doors were finished, everything else looked grayscale in comparison. Like when you finish a five star book and everything you try to read after is just a disappointment.
I used my special project strength (the same strength that lets mothers lift cars off their children) to rearrange every piece of furniture in my apartment. I even invited a previously forbidden color, red, back into my palette. When Martha said she hated red I took that to heart and hated it too. As you do with the opinions of the original influencer.
The history is important (and short)
Medieval cathedrals used stained glass to turn daylight into theology. Victorians revived it as an antidote to industrial modernity. Art Nouveau introduced organic shapes in lifelike hues. Modern movements used abstract geometry and free‑form color fields to give glass an optimistic glow. Each revival solves for the same need: humanity, originality. In an era of algorithmic everything, no wonder the trend is back. “Alexa, play nature.”


The process is the point
When I thought the project was done, something about it still felt unresolved. I went back in with clear faux stained glass between each colored pane—a subtle addition most people wouldn't notice, but one that tied everything together in a way that felt right.
It's not perfect. Dust under the window film, crooked leadlines, haphazard gallery glass application, to name a few. But I'm way too busy watching jewel-toned squares transform my ceiling to care.
These feel like healing metaphors but I truly can't stomach it right now (with an intensity I usually reserve for songs by Chris Brown).
What I will say is: we don’t create beauty because we’re healed; we create it because we’re trying to be.
While the doors are complete, my healing process is not. But, they glow anyway.
That’s it for this edition of The Moodboard. Until next time, I’ll keep the light on.
📸 Explore the full visual archive for this essay.
Most traditional mediums like painting, drawing, etc. depict how light reflects off of objects. Stained glass lets light pass through, so your eye processes color in a different register.
Okay. Wandering my house looking for my stain glass project to spark beauty and healing.
Also this quote, had me rolling, “Usually I plan a DIY project within an inch of its life but this time was urgent. I skipped the research phase entirely, desperate to begin.”
Truly stellar work, my gorgeous friend!!! 💖