So I’m sitting at one of my favourite cafes and I know the ownership has changed. 
There are no physical signs talking about the change. 
But I see it in the waitresses’ fringe. 
In my chai latte which just doesn’t have the sprinkling of cinnamon. 
In the dullness of the tracks. 
She doesn’t ask me if I’d like anything else with my latte, she rushes off. What about my vegan truffle? 
This has upset me. 
I immediately don’t like the change. The newness. 

We are selling Kish+Co. My design studio. 
I start thinking about how I sign off my emails. 
The rings I wear before a meeting. 
My laughter on the phone when I talk to a client, encouraging them to tell me about the little details. 
I think about how we manage the complaints, sometimes there are problems we simply can’t solve. 
How do you explain that to a client? 
You can’t just say, “It is what it is”. 
That might break her heart. 
You try, try, try and try again. 
I think about the calls we’ve made on whom we work with and how we have subtly indicated the boundaries. 
So clients know without even thinking about it. 
I’m saying clients, but I’m thinking of Rebecca, Amey, Danielle, Matt, Dean, Bernie, Nicole, Piper, Michelle and more. All of them. 
The little things I know. 
Will they feel the same, when the tide changes.
I stopped wanting it. Not the relationships and the chats. But the work of it. The emails, the proof checking, the phone calls, the urgency, the hourly rate. 
For some reason, it just stopped being who I was. 
And when I realised it, I knew I had to change something. 
So we sold. I couldn’t bear to shut shop, for me, that meant “The End”. 
An ending I didn’t want. 
And I’m handing over the reigns. 
The best way I know how. 
The details and the big picture. 
The dreams and the connections. 
The 150+ client base and the $1Mil + history of who we were over 8 years. 


And I realise now, that maybe my chai latte still tastes good, just different. 
Maybe the waitress is so excited, I can forgive the fringe. 
Sounds so wanky, like who the hell am I to forgive a fringe? 
But nevertheless. 
I’ll put history aside and give the future a chance.