As the year winds down and Thanksgiving approaches, I’ve been reflecting on what it means to create. For so long, I’ve wrestled with the balance between making art for myself and making it for others—whether for sale, praise, or some external validation. The truth is, when I’m deeply connected to my work, it’s never about the outcome. It’s about the process, the joy of seeing colors blend, textures form, and emotions take shape. It’s a conversation between my heart and the materials, a flow that feels like home.
But there’s a shift that happens when we start to think of art as a product. Suddenly, the joy can be replaced by pressure—will this sell? Will others like it? Will it be enough? Lately, I’ve been working on letting go of those questions. With the new year on the horizon, I’m purging my studio, giving away items that no longer serve me. These materials, once filled with potential projects, now feel like a weight, keeping me tethered to ideas that no longer spark joy. It’s freeing to donate them, knowing they may inspire someone else.
This process of clearing out is teaching me to trust the flow. Life looks the way I once dreamed it would, but also so much different than I could have imagined. I have a partner, Rob, who supports and loves me in ways I never thought possible. I have two beautiful, spirited puppies who keep me on my toes, three quirky kitties who remind me to slow down and enjoy the quiet moments, and a horse who connects me to a deeper, spiritual part of myself.
I am so grateful for this life, for these beings who share it with me, and for the lessons they teach me every day. They remind me that life, like art, is about presence. It’s about showing up, letting go of what doesn’t serve, and holding space for what does.
As the holiday season unfolds, I’m choosing to focus on gratitude—for the unexpected twists and turns, for the growth that comes from letting go, and for the simple, fleeting joys that make life so rich.
Here’s to creating for the soul, to living with gratitude, and to embracing the beautiful impermanence of it all.