In one of my childhood kitchens, there was a cabinet where my collection of 60+ mugs lived. From sixteen on, I’d pull on the thin gold handle that opened the tall white door and pick out a mug every single morning for my coffee—which was ¾ vanilla Coffee-mate creamer and ¼ actual coffee.

My mind would drift off to my future home, with my future husband, where we’d drink coffee together with the windows open on a rainy morning. (This isn’t just a cute thing I’m writing for the “about” part of my website. This was a real place I’d often visit in my mind’s eye.)

I’d imagine that maybe—someday, possibly—I’d be able to take pottery lessons and make my own mugs with my own two hands. I mean, can you imagine?! A husband, in a little house, with open windows and handmade mugs? What a freaking dream.

Well, I made it. I got married at the ripe old age of nineteen, and I make my own mugs in my own little home. I have the cutest husband and the cutest little blue cabinet in my very own kitchen, overflowing with mugs. In short? I am the picture of success, and that is why we are gathered here today.

Okay, on a serious note, and real quick before I forget…

My middle name is Brooke, and I’ve always felt super connected to it. A brooke is a little river, and my last name is Banks. So - River-banks. Get it?

Anyway, I started The Riverbanks in 2021, and it’s been a slow unfolding into what it is now. And if you’ve read this far, maybe you’re asking…so, what is it now? I’m so glad you asked.

The Riverbanks is a few things: part public journal, part shopfront, and part community. 

The Journal Part
On my Substack, you’ll find a spectrum of writing from getting real honest and deep to a more light and airy feel. I share both long- and short-form essays about faith, the healing journey, and things I just find lovely. It’s where I’m pouring my creative writing energy these days, with the hope of building intentional community outside the constant noise of social media.

It’s a space where you can get to know me—and a place where I hope to get to know you, too. 

The Shopfront Part
I once heard one of my favorite artists describe herself as a “seasonal potter,” and I thought, “Yes! That’s me!” I’ll offer seasonal & small pottery drops here from time to time, and I have plans to offer some things outside of pottery this year, too. Stay tuned! (gahh, so excited.)

The Community Part
I sincerely hope to always be creating a space here that feels calm, gentle, creative, beautiful, and safe for those of us who so desperately need that. For now, I’ll keep doing that through writing and handmade goods. But who knows what the future might hold for us here? I’ve got dreams. And I want you—yes, you reading this—to know that I truly want to hear from you and connect however I can. I’m always finding myself wondering about creative ways we could foster community online that don’t involve doom scrolling.

Here’s what I know that I know that I know—life is often beautiful, and sometimes brutal. My husband and I have hit our fair share of the brutal over the last decade. And when it comes, more than black-and-white answers, more than well-crafted sermons, more than the willpower to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, it’s the quiet beautiful we need. The things that seem the most unnecessary are often the very things that slowly heal us and bring us back home. Things like warm mugs, cozy blankets, soft scarves, birdsongs, slow hobbies, and belly laughs. I’m fully and completely convinced of it.

That’s why I keep showing up on an internet that feels so big and loud—in small, quiet, and seemingly insignificant ways. Because deep, deep down, the truth is: the thing we all need the most is a soft place to land.

I pray you find that here.