Over the better part of the last week, I have been hovering over my workbench preparing over forty new paintings for Chester Bowl Fall Festival on September 19th in Duluth.

In the past, prepping this many paintings for an art fair would not be possible. Matting and framing has always been something I have loved but it takes quite a bit of time and energy — like days to weeks depending on how many pieces I have to prep. It also costs a lot of money. I like my frames made with real wood, I am picky about my stain colors, and I prefer real glass over plexi, I also only use 100% cotton, acid free matboard so my paintings stay protected.

I have always liked the presentation of my paintings refined and professional.

Which leads me to the caveat. Sustainability…

I put myself in kind of a time-out this year. Not as a punishment, more like an experiment, or a test.

Have you ever looked at a pattern, repeating perfectly, and you just get this uncontrollable urge to interrupt it? Like you just want to mess it up. Throw a wrench in. Give it a good shake, just to see what breaks and what holds…

The landscape of this summer has been vastly different than summers in the past few years, both literally and figuratively. Our little family is facing some changes (unexpected at first, but beneficial and challenging in all the right ways), and in addition to that, I have been looking at my vocations as a Homeopath and Artist in entirely different ways…

There was a recurring message I received throughout the weekend that has touched my heart and given me pause. The variations sounded something like this…

“You’re alive! We’ve missed you!”
”You totally disappeared and we didn’t know where you went!”
”What am I going to do without you next to me at ______ Festival this year?!”

Oh my goodness, these messages made me feel so many different things!

If there is one thing I know about myself it’s that when I learn something, I am going to look for that exact same pattern somewhere else. Because I know that everything is connected. So when I learn something from my art, nine times out of ten I’m going to step back and ponder how that applies to life.

The one thing that watercolor teaches me over and over is how to let myself be surprised. I think this can be said about any art form or creative practice but there is something about watercolor that has especially taught me how to let go of control…

I am sitting here in my porch, watching the un-mowed grass undulate from a strong west wind, shimmering like a peridot sea.

It is the role of an artist to notice. To pay close attention to the way sunlight touches the bend in each blade of grass, to witness the way a field can move like the surface of a lake. Yet, I am innately aware that an artist’s role runs more deeply than noticing light and shadow, value and color.

I know that it is also my role to feel…

Last weekend, Spencer, Rudder and I returned back to civilization after 8 days in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness. This year we felt especially eager to get in, to clear our minds from the every day clutter of being alive in our modern world, but also because it had been a year since we’d been there last. We normally try to go at least twice but had to cancel our 2025 fall trip last minute because of an injury I had sustained that still needed healing…

As I sit here contemplating this new body of work I am releasing into the world, it has dawned on me that I haven’t released any new originals since October of last year. Shortly after, I sunk my roots into the earth and let her take me deep down, deep inward.

Signs of Life is a collection of 17 new original watercolor paintings created during the hibernation of a long dark winter. Each painting for me became a beacon of hope, a reminder that no pain lasts forever…

I would be lying if I told you that the first few months of this year have been easy. Without getting into a lot of personal detail, this January through March especially have felt heavy and difficult. I needed to disappear and to take space to be with my own soul, to reflect and be present for something long held…

An old ghost visited me this past week. Though her presence familiar, her timing was unexpected and I felt compelled to tell the story of her arrival. She and I have a rather strange bond, and though I have felt haunted by her, she has taught me much much more than I could have ever expected to learn from her presence in my life…

sometimes the scene won’t leave me
until I render her properly.
sometimes beauty strikes
in a dirty february parking lot
and I am reminded,
she is everywhere…

What does it matter?
if it matters at all.

I took myself to the bottom of this
to find what really does.

And what I found, if it matters to you,
is that nothing really matters at all.

But if you want it to matter
just so that something matters,

it first has to matter
to you…

I have only dipped my favorite Princeton Long Round No. 12 paintbrush in water twice in the last two months…

I find that a funny contrast of energies collide in December. On one hand I am bombarded by an annual hustle and bustle — family members asking me what my plans are for this date and for that date, making sure to order gifts with enough time for me to wrap them, packaging holiday orders, readying myself for holiday markets.

But juxtaposed to this surface-level buzz, there is a deeper, more authentic request. It is one that springs up from my soul and begs for my attention. It is a request of reflection, an invitation to stillness, one that asks me to light a candle and bathe in the glow of my Christmas tree with my phone on Do Not Disturb…

November holds a special kind of magic. A magic that until a couple of years ago, I often overlooked. This year, I feel its potency more than ever before.

Each year it starts with a whisper, a quiet beckoning. As if a spirit took hold of my shoulders and turned me away from the distraction of lights and noise and the things that pull me away from a current that runs beneath my feet…

I started creating these paintings during the month of September, just as the colors began to shift on the North Shore of Lake Superior. It’s funny how one minute it feels like late summer, and maybe the leaves feel a bit tired but there is still a warmth in the air. Then one day, you wake up for your morning walk and that cool familiar chill fills your lungs. And so the shift begins…

Three weeks from now I will be hosting an event that I have been thinking about for the past couple years... My first Open Studio.

Since I first began selling my art, I have had lots of people ask if they could come and visit my space to see my work and tour the place where I create my watercolor paintings. Since my studio is in my home and I don’t have typical posted “gallery” hours, I have just been offering visits by appointment. Until now…

This week I’m coming down from a very busy August and start to September and I could not be more grateful that I blocked this week out in advance to get my bearings. There is something about a wide open week that brings me peace. It means there is lots of space to let my mind wander, let my spirit rest, and let my soul get curious…

Over the bustling past six weeks I have been intentionally carving time out to paint. During the summer, when I have two art fairs per month it can be easy to slip into the mindset of production over creativity. This year I wanted to stay mindful of what I felt was truly inspiring me over what I guessed people might want to see at these events. I have found that my relationship to inspiration and creativity is just that, a relationship. It requires thoughtful consideration, deep listening, and a willingness to show up with curiosity over judgment…

It has been a while since I have taken space to share what is happening in my studio this summer. May, June and July are so full of events that for a couple months, this little newsletter is mainly centered around detailing where you can find me next. It’s fun knowing I’m going to see so many of you in person but to be honest, I would much rather write about creative projects and what has been inspiring my paintings these days…