Artist Reflections

A painting becomes part of our everyday lives. It greets us in the morning, changes with the light, holds memories, and reminds us of what matters. It can help create the emotional atmosphere of a home while reflecting something meaningful about the people who live there. That is the experience I want my artwork to create for collectors. As I spend the next few weeks working quietly in the studio, I am not stepping backward or disappearing. I am building the next layer. I a

Dolly did not wait for permission to become Dolly. Her life reminds me that authenticity is not something we earn after becoming successful. Authenticity may be one of the very things that allows us to create a meaningful version of success in the first place.

I am writing this from a local winery with a glass of wine nearby, soulful music playing in the background, and absolutely nothing happening inside my brain. At least, that is how it feels. From the outside, my life is overflowing with possibility. I have proposals awaiting decisions, gallery walls waiting to be filled, creative opportunities taking shape, and some very big personal dreams hovering just beyond my reach. I have done the work. I have taken the risks. I have lai

Whether dreams are messages from somewhere beyond us or simply our minds sorting through what we have been carrying, this one felt less like a prediction and more like a mirror... For much of my life, fear and scarcity were my default settings. I worried about money, panicked about my health, questioned whether I mattered, and tried to fix everything for everyone around me. I became very good at shrinking myself to fit inside rooms that were never designed to hold all of me.

Creative work is often romanticized as inspiration, color, freedom, and beautiful finished paintings hanging beneath gallery lights. The reality is usually much messier. There are deadlines, logistics, wrapping artwork, carrying canvases, editing presentations, answering emails, promoting events, making decisions, second-guessing those decisions, and trying to remember whether you actually ate lunch somewhere in the middle of it all.

Preparing artwork for an exhibition involves far more than placing paintings into a vehicle and driving toward the gallery. Each piece must be inspected, documented, labeled, protected, & wrapped. Corners need special attention. Large canvases need to be moved carefully. Glassine, plastic, tape, labels, blankets, & more tape begin taking over the studio. With twenty-three paintings waiting for me, including several mammoth canvases, I quickly realized this was not a job I s

Have you ever caught your mind spinning a frightening story about the future—only to discover that the story wasn’t true? Our minds are astonishingly creative. Unfortunately, they don’t always use that creativity in our favor. Given an unanswered question or an uncertain future, the mind can quickly fill the empty space with everything that might go wrong.

There is something wonderfully playful about an exhibition devoted to small works. A painting does not have to be large to carry energy, emotion, or meaning. Sometimes a smaller format draws us closer and asks us to notice the details we might otherwise miss. Being selected for this exhibition is meaningful to me for several reasons. Second Street Gallery has long been a space I admire, and Charlottesville is a community where I hope to continue building relationships...

I may have given her a painting, but she gave me something more. She reminded me why I paint.

Everything feels like it’s moving quickly. Ideas. Opportunities. Energy. Growth. Faster than I can fully name. But instead of trying to control it… I’m choosing to stay open. To trust it. To let it unfold.

Whether you find yourself in an “And Yet” season… Or standing “On the Verge” of something new… Here’s what I know for sure: The garden doesn’t grow for the likes. It grows because growth is natural. Because becoming is inevitable. Because something within you refuses to stay buried. So if you’re ready to let your creativity rise to the surface… I’d love to meet you there.

In a world filled with noise, uncertainty, and constant distraction, finding peace can feel impossible. After attending the closing event for the Walk for Peace in Washington, DC, contemporary mixed media artist Precious Burger shares a simple mindfulness practice—and how breath, presence, and creativity can help you reconnect, find calm, and create from a place of grounded peace.

While daily creation is already part of my life, this challenge gently nudged me back into something I hadn’t been prioritizing lately — my sketchbook practice.

Making art will ask you to tell the truth. It will push you past what feels comfortable. It will ask you to show up, even when you’re not ready. And if you’re willing to stay in the discomfort, it will reflect you back to yourself.

This week tested me. Between personal struggles and creative challenges, I found myself tangled in fear and self-doubt. It’s a vulnerable place—one that many artists (and humans) know all too well.

We live in a world that encourages masks. Polished feeds. Perfect answers. But art? Art doesn’t care about your filters. That’s the power and radical truth about art. That’s the power of story.

My Muse ghosted me harder than my metabolism after 40...

I didn't vanish... just taking a breath to reflect, relax, and re-emerge to my next best self.