As any hobbyist knows, buying, researching, and planning for the supplies for one's hobby, passion project, or recreational pastime is a hobby in itself.

A sub-hobby.

A line of work with it's own W2 tax forms.

I had some downtime this last weekend, and while I had set out to tidy up my studio space, I didn't.

Instead, I did an art supply/audit/experiment.

A little sketch in the rain, join me for some of my favorite beach weather!

Summer wrap-up of watercolor adventures VLOG

Envy is a funny little beast.
I imagine Envy as a bug-eyed pug dressed in a pug tuxedo at a fancy party, trying to appear taller and more classy by standing on his hind legs, but his little wiener is hanging out, so that’s awkward. He’s attempting to balance a plate of hors d’oeuvres and a glass of wine in one paw while gesturing, making a point with the other, and attempting to breathe.

I feel like a metaphor for life lies in the thin spiderweb-like molds sprouting in the bottom left corner of the green pressed paper strawberry carton.

I've noticed that I do the same thing with other things, BUT there is sincerely NO good reason for it.

Maybe you do it too?

July 2023 photos

There were notebooks, backup pens, snacks, stretchy pants, and a C4 explosive device rigged to blow if anyone so much as thought about disturbing me.

I watched. I took notes. And then I scream-cried!
I watched in horror as the answer to my burning question was answered.
…

June 2023 photos

I would bellow to the crowd like a drunk seagull, "YOU ARE ALL CREATIVE!!!"
And I'd want crayons and coloring books under each seat, and I'd go full Oprah, "YOU GET CRAYONS! YOU GET COLORS! SKETCHBOOKS FOR ALL!" The lights would come up and there would be glitter cannons suspended from the ceiling that would all go off in a deafening building-shaking boom

May 2023 Photo Round-up

Navigating my early years with a host of learning disabilities made the idea of being a “lifelong learner” sound like a curse from a pile of vile, wart-ridden, broom-riding, evil-cackling, child-eating, cauldron-stirring, apple-poisoning witches.

This has been a dance in the street, playing the violin in my red suede peep toe pumps on kind of discovery, not only because my watercolor art is better but because I have spent so much time in the past admonishing myself for being too curious about other mediums.

Good morning!

Instead of writing a blog post, I recorded a 5-minute VLOG.
I enjoyed recording this!

It feels like a much more personal way to communicate with all of you rather than sitting behind a wall of text. Who knew all those hours of Zoom meetings would pay off - I felt natural and conversational talking into the camera and sharing my updates.

I have some post-production thoughts to share. The most profound of which is - I didn’t like it.
Don’t get me wrong - I LOVED making the paintings and stretching myself to do something different and challenging.

I’ve recently been exposed to the idea of relying on one’s process rather than the motivation of an end goal to achieve a body of work.

I read a book that focused on this idea recently, and then I stumbled upon an article detailing the idea of growth loops vs. goals.

The idea is you don’t set an end goal but instead set daily processes aimed at an overall outcome, not one specific goal. Each day doing these things will get you closer to your desired outcome, but focusing on the outcome only leads to let-downs and burnout.

I’ll link the article below because I found the article and the science behind it fascinating, and I’m not explaining

Learning occurs every day on many different levels, capacities, and formats. On the surface, I understand that, but simultaneously I was surprised to notice that my encaustic painting practice has begun to inform and teach me something about watercolor - a medium I’ve worked with for roughly ten years.

The surprise came from things feeling out of order. My encaustic skillset is newer than watercolor, so the idea that I’d learn something about watercolor by working in encaustic was unexpected but also exciting.

I’ll expand.

I think all my painting stories start with “I was on the beach…,”

This one is no different. I approached the Agate Beach entrance from the lower parking lot, and the scene that greeted me was these eight distinct stripes.

My camera captured more details than my eyes did. My eyes were blurry from wind-induced tears. It looked like only five stripes.

Last week I discussed the remarkable restraint I showed in shopping at L. Cornelissen & Son art supply abroad. I opened these brown glass bottles of historical inks this week and gave them a test drive.

The smell was the first thing I noticed as being so much different than the current inks I own and use. They smell like the outdoors. They smell woody and earthy. I like it. It’s almost like a fine wine.

I loved being back in London, even for a short time.

For those who missed the blog post from a few weeks ago - I had the opportunity to live in London on a work-abroad/exchange program 23 years ago, immediately after graduating college. I lived and worked there for three months and then spent 4 weeks traveling Europe by train.