Two prominent things stand out to me when I think about practicing art and creating a body of work—building my skills to achieve my vision and understanding and communicating the concepts, subjects, themes, and ideas or topics in the artwork. Both require supporting myself through feelings like confusion, overwhelm, and loss to find direction in my artwork. These feelings can be paralyzing and immobilizing. And they can be overcome with a few practices that provide clarity on what comes next.

Last summer, I began laying out the questions I’ve used to craft an inspiring and spacious creative practice. I’ve shed light on the notion of working in creative seasons and I’ve shared ways it has helped me radically expand my practice and my business.

From a young age, I learned very quickly that there were so many ways to look at creativity. And so many of those ways came down to individualism. That is the way you perceive the world and the way you process the world. Yet, the subject of creativity is so vast. And it can be just as expansive to identify a way of working - a creative practice - that doesn’t hinder your originality but instead elevates it.

During the long and dark winter months, I shared that I finally experiment with something I’ve had on my mind for a long time - monoprints. You can read more about my story here. After spending my quiet, in-between hours bunkered in my newly established and very humble printmaking studio, I am building a collection of monoprints.

Last summer, I began laying out the questions I’ve used to craft an inspiring and spacious creative practice. I’ve shed light on the notion of working in creative seasons and I’ve shared ways it has helped me radically expand my practice and my business.

I never really understood how creative mantras could be incorporated into my daily art practice until I learned how lonely practicing art can feel some days. Yes, I am a part of a creative community that I converse with daily and I have a creative mentor that helps me align with myself quarterly. Yet, for the most part, I work alone in my studio which results in plenty of personal conversations on a daily basis.

Inspiration isn’t something I often go searching for. When I slowly adapted my creative processes to reflect my inner landscapes and seasons, I learned inspiration would become a natural part of my creative practice. I would make space to welcome it upon its natural arrival.

Slowly drifting into the new year, my studio set up shifted as furniture fell into new spaces. I spent time culling through the old and situating collected pieces intentionally — that included the artwork I displayed, the furniture I held onto, and the books that have enlightened me. I created a space that I am excited to belong and continue to work through the stories of my materials. How do you find that warmth in your own studio?

A ray of sunshine. Nothing could describe this human any better. So full of energy and enthusiasm for the free will of creating. The fourth person I shared a conversation with was someone that I followed since my beginning days on instagram. It was so wonderful to finally connect.

There was a real sense of calm when it came to the third conversation I shared. After having multiple interactions over natural earth pigments, I couldn’t wait to dive into a deeper conversation and share a language for the Earth.

My first conversation was shared with someone who has quickly become a really great friend of mine. At the beginning of the year, I slowly began to let people into my studio practice by sharing my process on Instagram live. It is a very raw and a very vulnerable step for me. One day out of the blue, this amazing soul reached out, sharing her thoughts and joy in seeing the process. Once the live was over, she quickly messaged me and our conversation flourished from there.