
Where It Begins: Inside the Creative Process of an Original Work of Art
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What Caught My Eye
It starts with a breath and a decision I can’t take back.
After months of color testing, it’s time to start working in earnest on my next series of paintings.
I sit down with a small block of real paper, take a deep breath, and dive in. Yellow paint bleeds across the page, white space slowly disappearing, and the shadowy forms of the earth appear like ghosts in front of me.
I don’t know quite where it’s headed, but I can already see where it might take a wrong turn.
This is not the moment to panic.
Breathe.
Let it live.
This is how it always begins.
Why It Matters
You often see the finished piece. But do you know what it takes to get there?
The start is rarely glamorous.
Sometimes it’s a scrap of a memory, an idea that won’t leave my head, or a color that suddenly feels like home. Sometimes it’s purposefully challenging—can I use this color I don’t like to make something beautiful?
The process that follows is real work. Messy, surprising, full of decisions I can't undo. Some days I love what’s happening on the paper. Other days, I have to fight for it.
But that’s part of why we all need original art. The value is not financial, but emotional. Spiritual. Real art speaks to your soul—and reminds you that you’re not alone in what you’ve felt.
When you collect my work, you’re not just getting a piece that looks nice with your couch. You're getting every hard decision, every moment of doubt, and every breakthrough layered into that work. You’re getting the pain and joy of being human. All those tiny decisions result in a rich texture that big box store prints just can’t replicate.
And you’re getting a piece of your own world. That’s why you pause at a painting you didn’t know you’d fall in love with, and suddenly feel a spark.
When my work resonates, it’s not because you can see my story.
It’s because it’s your story, too.
From the Studio
I’ve been playing with the color palette of this new series in my sketchbooks and on scraps of paper for months, testing, refining, and muddling my way through it.
I’m excited about the ideas I have, but I’m also wrestling with them, because I’m purposefully trying to stretch myself. I have always gravitated toward cool colors, blues and greens, and yellow is so bright that it’s out of my comfort zone. And this particular yellow I’ve selected doesn’t always play nicely with others; it blends into very murky browns if not mixed carefully.
But when you mix it well? When it bleeds across the paper by itself?
It sings.
If This Hits Home
If you're drawn to art with soul—rich with meaning, memory, and process—I invite you to explore the originals still available in the Pathways Collection.
Each one has been through the journey I just described. One of them might be yours.
Browse the originals now
And if this new series is speaking to you? Sign up for my email list below. You’ll get a free phone lock screen as a thank you, and you’ll also stay in the loop when these paintings are ready to go. My email list gets first dibs when they launch, and when they’re gone, they’re gone.
Don’t let yours slip away.
Tell Me
What’s the last thing that stopped you in your tracks—art or otherwise?
That moment matters. I’d love to know.