My earliest painting experiment
“The future is completely open, and we are writing it moment to moment” – Pema Chodron
Lately I’ve been trying to slow down and just breathe into all of the change happening in my life this year. I’ve never had a particularly easy time with transitions, even if they are happy ones. When I start to feel those classic symptoms of overwhelm, I often pull back to reflect and write down a series of recent little happy moments that I might otherwise forget, like finishing a new painting or reading a beautiful new comment on my blog.
So, what am I happy about today?
Possibility.
I decided to think back to October 2013, exactly one year ago, to remember what I was doing. What I found makes me laugh and feel such compassion for who I was then. For the hope that I felt painting again for the first time in 12 years. For my curiosity and my fear of the unknown.
Last October, I had no business yet. I had no paintings completed, no website, and certainly no Etsy shop. I was operating solely on my curiosity of how life could be different if I tried something new and explored my creativity in a new light.
So I signed up for an online painting class: Juliette Crane’s Serendipity.
I'd like to read more, please»Making progress (plus, new art for sale!)
“A beautiful thing is never perfect” – Proverb
I have been thinking a lot lately about sensitivity.
I mean this both physically and emotionally – we all approach the world in such varied ways, influenced by how easy or difficult we find the journey of our daily lives.
While I was generally a happy kid, I still found the world to be a little difficult. Shy, overwhelmed easily by social situations, and practically allergic to socks and shirt tags (certain textures, such as the feel of socks between toes, were so difficult for me that I would feel absolutely distraught when putting them on. Just ask my mom!)
Needless to say, I have always been a very sensitive person. Until the past few years, however, I viewed my sensitive nature as a flaw to be overcome. For example, I thought that my need for lots of reflection time after a big social gathering was a flaw, as was my discomfort meeting lots of new people at once. I thought I was flawed for not being able to eat many foods without a reaction, and for allowing the moods of others to affect me so deeply. When someone would refer to me as sensitive, I would feel insulted.
Imagine: feeling insulted because of your body’s natural reaction to the world.
Then I discovered this book: The Highly Sensitive Person. When I started to read more about people who approached the world similarly to myself (approximately 15 to 20 percent of the population), I felt such relief. This piece of my experience with the world began to make sense.
I'd like to read more, please»Road-trips: yes please!
“Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail” – Ralph Waldo Emerson
Road trips: are you a fan? They take a certain kind of consistent energy, guiding you through new town after new town, the ongoing search for places to eat and rest. Not to mention the driving, exploring, navigating.
Eric and I just returned from a week-long road trip along the east coast of the United States, from Pennsylvania to Georgia, to visit family and friends. We don’t get to travel much, and haven’t had a week off together in over a year. Needless to say, I’ve been very excited.
My consensus on road trips, now that I’ve had this most recent experience: LOVE! We saw so many things we would not have seen had we flown to Georgia. We listened to 2 audio books from my young adulthood (The Giver! A Wrinkle in Time!), and saw so many beautiful, green hills and winding ribbons of water.
Today I want to share with you some of the inspirational highlights of our trip. I’ve always believed that inspiration can be found anywhere, and that the natural world is our best teacher. I also believe that sometimes we just need to get a little silly (you’ll see what I mean below!)
I'd like to read more, please»My gratitude list
“The more light you allow within you, the brighter the world you live in will be” – Shakti Gawain
I have been thinking lately about gratitude.
As my life has gotten busier over the past several years, it’s become harder to stay present and aware of the goodness in my life. I’m not talking here about family or friends – the blessings that most of us think about first.
What I need help remembering on a daily basis is much smaller and less easy to define. The day-to-day moments or reminders that fuel us along and provide much needed little bursts of inspiration or joy. I often write gratitude lists in my journal to reflect back on when I’m feeling stressed out. Do you ever do this? It’s a fabulous reminder to slow down and smile. To let the light in.
Today, I am grateful for:
Peaceful, soothing music. I listen to Koyasan (by the german musician Deuter) pretty much every day when I’m working. You can listen for free on Grooveshark.com. The album is just endlessly beautiful to me, and calms me without fail.
I'd like to read more, please»What is your source of daily inspiration?
“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.” – Roald Dahl
Each day I try to stay present enough to experience magic, even if just for a moment at a time.
Often these moments catch me by surprise, and this is always better – I’ll be sitting on the train, look up from my book, and catch sight of an unlikely patch of bright flowers on the side of the tracks. The sun will hit my cat’s fur and glitter, for just an instant. A breeze moves through still air and my whole body is refreshed, almost instantly.
Every day magic: the unassuming, thoughtful, quiet moments that come to life because we know how to appreciate them.

Listen: a reminder that when we stay present, magic is everywhere. Original painting, fine art print, and note cards available in my shop.
As an artist, especially as an artist who believes so deeply that we all need sources of daily inspiration, I am always thrilled when I experience something lovely and unexpected.
One such moment came this weekend when I was working on a new painting.
I'd like to read more, please»What’s important to you? It’s time to share your story
“I am the poet of the poor, because I was poor when I loved; since I could not give gifts, I gave words.” – Ovid
I decided at a very young age that I was going to be a writer when I grew up.
More specifically, I wanted to be a poet.
I have always loved how powerful words can be. Each word and line has a weight to it, carefully considered for its meaning and ability to impact the reader.
And so for many years, I was a poet.
I wrote my first collection of poems in high school, my college major was poetry, and I was accepted to a national poetry fellowship after college. I published poems in journals, was nominated for prizes, and worked for a literary non-profit. I filled my shelves with books of poetry.
Above all else, I loved to write and read poems that told a story. A story told with attention to the sound and meaning of each word, to the power of metaphor and a strongly crafted scene. I felt able to write about experiences that felt powerful but painful: the sickness and death of loved ones, betrayals, loss. Also: connection and beauty, the subtle changes of the natural world.
Poetry was my creative outlet for over 10 years.
And yet, as I headed into my mid-20’s, the urge to sit down and write a poem began to lessen.
I'd like to read more, please»The strength in symbols: from trees to water
“The simple things are also the most extraordinary things, and only the wise can see them” – Paulo Coelho
As I start to brainstorm my next collection of paintings, I’ve been thinking about what visuals show up most often in my work.
Trees. Suns. Moons. Flowers. Water. Boats.

Photo courtesy of Lisa Schaffer
As a child I went to The Miquon School, an elementary school set in the woods. While we certainly spent time learning in the classroom, the trees and paths and creek became teachers of their own.
I learned that the water holds countless tiny creatures that can barely be seen unless you know how to look; I learned how tall trees become when they have the space to thrive.
Most of all, I learned to never take for granted the amazing diversity of the forest, and the give and take of the plants, sun, and rain.
That some of my most influential teachers should show up in my paintings does not come as a surprise, though this is the first time I’ve painted them into shape.
These symbols – the simply drawn moon or the tree painted with bright streaks of purple – do not aim to realistically reflect that moon or that tree. Rather, I dip inside of my heart and feel for the most important aspects to paint – the energy and movement, for example.
I'd like to read more, please»