About M.S. Magnus
I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis after more than a decade of unexplained symptoms. MS took memory, energy, motor control, and time.
Sewing kept me from disappearing.
I build, break, redo, and figure it out again. This site is the record of that process.
Living with multiple sclerosis, I’ve discovered that art and creativity are great ways to keep my mind sharp, my hands steady, and my spirit thriving.
Neuroplasticity
Practicing skills to rebuild strength, independence, and solve everyday problems MS puts in the way.
Sewing
Art as a way to rebuild the parts of myself that MS tried to take away.
Health and Wellness
Rebuild independence, strengthen the brain through repetition.
I grew up in a small Arizona town where you learned to fix what was broken instead of replacing it. I was raised rough and tough, more comfortable around tools than trends, a cowgirl at heart and a mechanic by default. I dreamed about getting out, so I went to college for Media Arts and Animation, hoping to build a different life.
Long before graduation, something was already wrong. I had symptoms of Multiple Sclerosis before I ever left for college, and by the time I finished my degree they had become impossible to ignore. I graduated, but I couldn't build the career I had worked toward. After nearly ten years of searching for answers, I was finally diagnosed with MS.
The diagnosis forced me to start over. I had to relearn things most people never think about, from writing and driving to organizing my thoughts. Sewing was the one skill that stayed with me. It became the place where I could still solve problems, build things, and prove to myself that my brain hadn't given up.
Years of research, experimentation, and repetition changed the way I thought about recovery. I may never recover every memory or ability that MS took, but the brain can adapt. New neural pathways can be built. Skills can return. Independence can be rebuilt, one small victory at a time.
That belief shaped everything else. I changed how I ate, who I surrounded myself with, how I worked, how I rested, and how I measured success. Progress came from persistence, not perfection. Every step forward was earned through repeated effort, even during relapses and setbacks.
The work isn't finished. Some days my hands don't cooperate. Some days I miss the person I used to be. That loss still hurts. But this project isn't about who I was. It's about what can still be built with the mind and body I have today.