💫 I’ve spent a lifetime translating complexity into clarity—first as a Sunday school teacher, a nurse, as a storyteller, and now as a curator and designer of emotionally intelligent gifts.

Today, I’m sharing something deeply personal: a blog post about why I design for the quietly brilliant. It’s not just about designing packaging—it’s

about dignity, authenticity, legacy, and the ache between the lines.

If you’ve ever felt unseen in your depth… if you’ve ever longed for empathy without ego… this is for you.

Today, I’m just showing up as myself—Malika Bourne, real person, with an empathetic heart and a real legacy. Thanks for seeing me.

 

🌌 The Ache Between the Lines: Why I Design Packaging for the Quietly Brilliant

Featuring one of my favorite images: a bridge lit by starlight—symbolizing emotional passage and mythic transition.

There’s an unspoken ache that I want to acknowledge—not the loud, overwhelming kind, but the subtle one that lingers in the pauses between words. It exists in the hearts of those who feel deeply, pondering the things not readily explained, and whose emotions are rarely reflected in the everyday messages around them. These are the exceptional individuals for whom I create product bundles and packaging, who deserve to be seen and heard, and whom I aim to connect with through their unique feelings and experiences.

I’ve spent years translating complexity into clarity—first as a Sunday School teacher of first to third-grade children, mostly wiggling boys, and then as an RN working with new parents.

“That early lesson in emotional translation stayed with me—through nursing shifts, through grief, and now into my creative work.”

I’ve seen the shame in the eyes that said, “I don’t understand.”

For growing boys in Sunday School, if I used King James Bible lingo, and their legs were kicking each other under the tables… The problem was not that they were unruly… Well, I needed to grab their attention and keep it by speaking their language. So, I quickly learned to adapt to the boys’ ages through my storytelling—and it worked much to the surprise of the Sunday School superintendent, who had not kept mature adults who knew the Bible well as Sunday school teachers for this age group. I was only sixteen when I began teaching Sunday School.

 

 

That early lesson in emotional translation stayed with me—through nursing shifts, through grief, and now into my creative work.”

 

My nursing degree is foundational — just an ADN from a community college, funded by a state grant. After that, I am primarily self-taught, looking things up and reading, and I let my patients teach me what they wanted me to know was important to them. And then, I read more or took extra continuing education classes. I earned a pretend “PhD” by doing the work. I got my hands ‘dirty’ while preserving someone else’s dignity. Often, I missed out on a break to do the job right for individuals who need compassion.

I didn’t complain. I listened to people express their embarrassment. And then I assured them I was there to help them feel safe.

 

Why?

Because when once productive individuals need their adult diapers changed, I believe they deserve respect.

Where is the dignity in using hard-to-pronounce, let alone hard-to-spell, words, concepts, or instructions? Sometimes, all that is needed to communicate more efficiently is a picture.

How can there be a connection between holy sacraments, body fluids, and big words from Latin and Greek have anything to do with shiny cubic zirconia, soft blankets, and aromatic tea in mugs with inspirations or romantic sayings?

My answer is far deeper than superficial. I listen deeply; I watch body language; I read psychology articles.

And I honor my true self rather than trying to imitate or duplicate others’ success. Sure, I listen and learn from others’ words.

Now that I have retired and am a stay-at-home mom, again at almost 75 years of age, I use my skills to craft product display cards for jewelry, blankets, mugs, journal covers, and rituals that speak plainly to the soul. There is nothing wrong with meeting the expectations of the ‘average’ population. I see a void that my heart aches to rise and meet a new challenge… that’s my niche… dba Malika Bourne Legacy LLC

 

But here’s the truth:

Over a lifetime, I’ve allowed myself to be stepped on because of my dependability, my work ethic, and my Christian values.

It may resonate with you as well that there is an assumption that you will ‘do what needs to be done’ – giving ‘everyone else’ permission to walk away until it’s time to get the credit. (The story of the Little Red Hen.)

 

Why?

 

Because it seems like only you see the value of and the consequences of a job not being completed, while others only see a task to be done, one either knows what I am talking about or one does not.

That is life… and we who use critical thinking skills… must wake up to the fact that people will treat us how we train them to treat us.

My work has been ‘borrowed’ without credit, my voice drowned out by louder voices chasing tried-and-true ‘safe’ formulas. At least one person I know got a big promotion for her “significant improvement” in writing lesson plans. She assigned me to write those lesson plans. Little did I know she would claim she wrote them.

I’ve watched others rise by mimicking what I created from grief, love, and legacy. And I’ve stayed quiet—until now.

People can mirror actions. But they cannot change their hearts’ intentions. … And we are blindsided as we ponder the universe or doodle on our bank statements.

 

 

 

This blog marks a turning point.

• I am done shrinking to fit someone else’s mold to keep the peace.
• I am done pretending that mass appeal is the only path to success.

I resolve to design product displays for those who ache quietly, as I do.

• …for the ones who want their stories honored, not simplified.
• …for the quietly brilliant, the emotionally fluent, the mythic thinkers who long to be seen.
• I hear your unspoken and unwritten heart.

 

The jewelry for sale in my online store isn’t just metal and stone. I sell blankets, mugs, books, games, etc., that my imagination prompted the AI to produce so that I can edit them further. I do appreciate the artist who uses a pencil to sketch and then a paintbrush to paint with paint. I grew up with a camera in front of one eye, watching my professional photographer parents. I am impressed by their pioneering expertise.

Each item I design—whether a necklace or a mug—is a vessel for memory, a whisper of dignity, a story waiting to be held.

As the world shifts and tools develop, I’ve found new ways to honor old values.

But the world is changing, growing with so much new data to absorb. We all need pictures painted for us to keep up with the pace. That is why I use artificial intelligence to help me create images for my product line. I also use AI to help correct my typing errors caused by damage to my left hand. I choose to stay active doing what I do best while accepting that new-fangled tools will help me speed up the process that traditional art, including photography, cannot keep up with.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And all the while, there are individuals, like myself, who think differently, see the world through different lenses, and inhale aromas others would just as soon walk by quickly to avoid. The average person becomes a statistical one-size-fits-all, analyzed and then marketed to by profit margins. Don’t we all want our wants and needs to be tailored to our uniqueness?

These material items are scaffolding for memory. It’s clarity for the overwhelmed. It’s a whisper to the ones who’ve been told they’re “too much” or “too odd” or “too deep.” I say: you’re exactly right.

For all of you who have ever felt lonely in your brilliance, if you’ve ever longed for empathy without ego, if you’ve ever wished someone would speak your language without shouting—welcome to my world. You’re not alone anymore.

This is the start of a new legacy. One built not on formulas, but on grace and a challenge to be creative.

Thanks to AI, I now have the tools to bring dreams to life. But I am not forgetting old-fashioned Sunday school values.

AI helps me create images and correct my typing, allowing me to stay active and expressive despite physical limitations. It’s not a replacement for traditional art—it’s a bridge between legacy and innovation.

Let’s make good choices together.

Malika Bourne

Views: 56