Beginning the Year a Look Inside My Studio Process

Beginning the Year: A Look Inside My Studio Process

I’ve always loved the start of a new year. Fresh beginnings. New ideas. New plans. New stories waiting to unfold.

And honestly, this year looks a lot like every other year in one important way—I begin by pausing. I ask myself a few familiar questions:

What do I want this year to hold?
What am I working toward?
What actually deserves my attention?
And, of course… what’s my word for the year—and does it belong on a necklace?

After the rush of the holidays, I usually find myself craving stillness. Fewer expectations. More noticing. More room to let things unfold instead of forcing them into shape.

Now, that sounds amazing in theory. But if you know me (or if you’re also multi-passionate), you know that slowing down doesn’t come naturally. That inner drive to do "all the things" tends to show up pretty quickly.

So the question I’ve been asking myself in the studio lately is this:
How can I let the work unfold naturally without rushing the outcome?

Here’s what that’s been looking like.

I’m not chasing results.
 I’m paying attention—but I’m not letting my to-do list dictate the pace or the number of paintings happening in the studio right now.

Lately, I’ve been drawn to water, light, motion, and reflection. Elements that move gently without urgency… until suddenly they don’t. They shift with intention. They respond to their surroundings.

Water, especially, has my attention. It doesn’t ask permission. It just moves—sometimes slowly, sometimes fast—catching the light as it goes.

My painting process feels a lot like that right now.
Sometimes fast. Sometimes slow.

And I have a huge desire to paint BIG.

Painting the In-Between Moments

I’ve always loved the in-between moments. Some of my favorite photographs are taken right before or right after the “posed” moment—when someone’s real personality slips through.

So much of life happens there. In the pauses we don’t plan for. In the quiet moments that don’t announce themselves but somehow linger.

That’s the space I’m painting from right now.

I’m exploring both dramatic scenes and subtle shifts—
how waves reflect light,
how light lands on everyday objects,
how movement leaves traces,
how time feels when it’s allowed to slow down.

This new collection is meant to live quietly in a space. Not to demand attention, but to offer calm, presence, and a moment to notice what’s often overlooked.

(Image: close-up detail of brushstrokes or texture)

A Different Kind of Beginning

There isn’t a countdown for this season of work. No big launch date. No pressure to have everything lined up and ready all at once.

I’m working one painting at a time, and I’m letting each one point me to the next. That doesn’t always come naturally to me—my life is usually full and a little chaotic—but right now, this pace feels right.

If you’re craving a softer start to the year too, I hope these pieces connect with you. And if you just like seeing what happens in the studio along the way—the starts, the stops, the half-finished moments—I’m really glad you’re here for that.

I’ll share more as the collection grows, including the story behind each finished piece when it’s ready to be seen.

For now, I’m letting the year (and the work) begin the same way I’m painting it:
one piece at a time.