My daughter, a painter and future educator, recently graduated from Pratt Institute with a Bachelor of Arts. At commencement, David Remnick, editor of The New Yorker, delivered an eloquent address that deeply resonated with me—and, I suspect, with many others in the audience.

He said, “Society cries out for citizens of imagination and creativity in order to thrive. Do not give up or compromise on what you know and what you love.”

I am not a painter. I don’t design homes, clothing, or video games. Heck, I don’t even make chocolate. But I am a citizen of imagination—vivid, vibrant, extravagant imagination. It has always been my nature.

Six years ago, Barometer Chocolate was born from that imagination. I’ve nurtured her, poured my heart into her, and in return, a joyful community has blossomed around me. It is, indeed, what I know and what I love.

For those of us who identify as citizens of imagination, it can be easy to feel discouraged at times. More than ever, the world seems to move at breakneck speed, and we are left wondering where creativity fits when AI can generate almost anything in an instant.

Yet people with a creative bent—like me, my daughter, and David Remnick—understand that, regardless of the noise around us, we remain deeply committed to pursuing what lights us up. Creativity makes the world more colorful, more delicious, and ultimately more inhabitable.

No one is making oodles of money in the fine craft chocolate industry. In truth, most creatives are not getting rich from their art. Yet we are enriched by the work itself and privileged to enrich others through it.

It is in that spirit—with a very full chocolate cup, thanks to the sheer magic of what I get to do in this world—that I greet you this season.

Here are my latest offerings: beyond scrumptious and brimming with good intentions. Savor them creatively.