I have arrived at the pause in my summer.

June and July are always packed now with art fairs and prep, lots of travel and what feels like constant hustle. The end of Blueberry Arts Festival marks the beginning of my small break in the action…

I started selling my paintings in 2021. Some pieces I have held onto for a couple years before they’ve found a home, some sold seconds after being listed in my online shop or within minutes of opening my booth at an art fair. Others are still in my studio, lying in a pile among other experiments.

This week, a collector shared a photo of one of my originals that she purchased at Park Point Art Fair a couple weekends ago. When I got the Instagram notification, I couldn’t stop going back to look at it…

Park Point Art Fair is notorious for their award ceremony at the end of the first day. They cater in dinner and drinks for the artists and as our bellies are filling up and we’re relaxed and socializing, the event directors announce the winners of the 7 different categories as well as Best in Show.

As I was sitting there mingling with friends, I hear a voice from the microphone say…

With the arrival of the Summer Solstice, I have been thinking a lot about the word “abundance.” Here we find ourselves in the season of more, when everything is in bloom and the days are long and full…

Just a week ago, I emerged from nine days in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area. This was my twelfth trip being fully immersed in this pristine wilderness.

On some of our earlier trips, Spencer and I used to comment that it takes a few days to feel like you’re fully there, to let go of the world we leave behind the moment our paddles dip into the clear water.

I had a much different experience this time…

I’d be lying if I said getting the hang of selling my art in person has been an easy road. A phrase I have started using goes as follows: “If you ever want to challenge your own human experience, just start a business and maintain it for a couple years!” I have learned more about myself, my own emotional wounds, hang-ups, and fears through this process than I had ever thought possible. Most importantly, I found out what I’m made of — grit, tenacity, lots of dreams and a whole lot of magic…

There is something synchronistic about the way of nature and the energy in my studio this time of year. My morning walking path is still laden with ice and snow in some areas, sopping wet and mucky in others, and though winter has her icy grip on us, I see evidence of spring everywhere I look…

I’ve noticed there’s this little phenomenon that occurs after I’ve been preparing for a big event or an exhibit. It’s like a natural liminal pause I take between the preparation and the “big day.” I wanted to take a moment to pay homage to the importance of it and the way it spoke to me just this week…

If you follow me on Instagram, you know I recently posted a photo of a piece of art that I took quite some time to work on. It was much different from the soft, fast, loose washes I usually find myself in…

This week has been full of gathering inspiration for new art. We have some fresh snow up here in Two Harbors (hopefully more coming this weekend — fingers crossed). Snowshoe treks and fresh mornings have been full of new treats for my eyeballs.

I find that when I need to restock my creative well, it’s time to do a lot of wandering…

Today, I release a new body of work into the world. Playing with Snow is a series of small loose watercolor landscapes that capture the solace of winter. The journey of creating them has played a powerful part in inspiring new life into me when I was desperately trying to reconnect with my creative practice…

It wouldn’t be an uncommon scene for you to find my studio neatly tidied. The surface of my workbench wiped clean of paint splatters, new paintings stacked neatly in a pile, all instruments at a right angle, jars of paintbrushes on a shelf, watercolor blocks stacked by order of size. This is especially true when I am expecting company. I also try to practice keeping my workspace “ready” for projects. That usually means neatness.

Currently, this is not the case…

My start to this new year has been a bit slow and languid. I kicked off 2025 with a cold that has made her home in my body and is lingering despite her posted eviction notice.

Although, the stuffy sinuses and occasional cough bring me some discomfort, the forced rest has been more than welcome. It’s felt like something my body has been needing for quite a long while so rather than fighting it, I’ve found acceptance a much easier route…

It was Spencer’s birthday wish to spend a couple days in the woods, unplugged from work life and plugged-in to the natural world. We promised our phones would stay locked away in a cabinet for the weekend and we vowed only to take pictures on my little CampSnap camera.

I don’t know about you, but the second I become unreachable, an overwhelming sense of peace washes over me…

I spent last weekend covered in sawdust. By the end of it, I had an entirely new studio setup. Some of you who know me well, know that during the summer months, I move my home studio into my 3-season porch (although, living in Northern Minnesota, it’s really only like one season)…

The summer market season has come to a close but I have something very exciting to share with all of you and honestly, it feels like the perfect way to move into this slower and cozier season…

The new North & Shore Maker’s Spotlight exhibit is now up in the hallways of the Enger Lofts Marketplace. This exhibit runs from October through December of 2024, just in time for the holiday season! My work is being featured alongside the talented Sarah Kreuter’s Woodcuts, so you’ll see a combination of both her work and mine displayed together!...

Sometimes unexpected things happen and there is nothing we can do but accept them as gracefully as possible…

Of course I sent you a newsletter last week detailing how this market season has felt like a marathon and the last three miles were uphill… And then, in the middle of the night before the first day of The Lake Superior 20/20 Studio & Art Tour, I got sick....

I went out to walk the land this morning and I could see my breath. The dew was heavy on my boots and as far as my eyes could see, lush greens have been replaced by warm golds, umbers, and ochres. Though the mornings are growing colder, as soon as the sun finds her place in the sky, the earth feels warm once again.

This time of year always feels like this strange liminal world where we hang in between summer and autumn. The equinox marked our transition this past Sunday. We’re in harvest. Grabbing the last of the tomatoes from the vine, checking the weather reports for possible frost.

For me, life has become increasingly synonymous with seasonal living every year. Summers are abundant and bustling with markets and art fairs until the end of September when things begin to wind down...

This past weekend, Spencer, Rudder, and I were driving back from Trempealeau, Wisconsin after a weekend with family on the Mississippi River. I love riding up and down those rolling Wisconsin hills. The driftless area never ceases to take my breath away. As I was gazing out the window, I gasped, “Look at all the flowers!” There was an open field, bursting with daisies, buttercups, hawkweed, and the way the light was dancing over the field in the late afternoon sun made me want to capture it and take it with me forever.

It was in this moment that I realized something...