A history of the name.

My story is indeed a trail of sanded stones. I make mistakes, I stumble more often than I care to admit, but essentially those hard lessons like rough waves have sanded and shaped me into an independent and refined individual.

Throughout my design education, I have been forced to approach the process in a similar fashion — I am tested beyond my comfort zone, prodded to think when I am sure my mind cannot entertain a new idea, and encouraged to alter my path mid-thought to embrace a new direction. My hope is that I leave behind a trail of sanded stones, a long chain of concepts mastered, work perfected, and experience gained.

Sanded stones

My wandering and broken heart,
flits from rock to rock.
When one crumbles,
I move again,
hoping to discover where I belong
before the scars of the past
prevent me from loving yet again.

Some laugh in my face–
condemn me to stay too long.
But, before my love becomes entwined in passion,
I move,
leaving a trail of sanded stones,
and my own calloused heart.

I’ve also kept another “Trail of Sanded Stones” during my time in Florence, Italy. You can view it at briejmillington.blogspot.com.


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