My path to painting has not been linear.
It has been a coming home to myself.
As a kid, I loved making art.
I loved being creative and would spend hours doodling, painting, and making collages.
And then, at some point, I stopped.
Until 2020. It was mid-pandemic, RBG had just died, and the world felt heavy and dark.
Seeking some inspiration, I listened to this episode of Brene Brown’s Unlocking Us podcast. Turns out what I was feeling was a very normal, human response. And I wasn’t alone. To combat the collective exhaustion and overwhelm we, as a society, were feeling, she suggested finding a new source of energy through play — defined as time spent without purpose. Anything that allows you to lose track of time, feel at ease and free to be yourself.
My mind immediately went to art.
I got out an old set of watercolors, painted a sunset, and shared it on Instagram.
Did it look like the work of a 5 year old? Yes.
Did it make me feel better? Absolutely.
That one simple sunset opened up a whole new world of creativity for me.
Currently, I am loving the process of creating fluid art.
It’s delightfully unpredictable and I don’t have control over the outcome.
There is no perfect.
I can choose the colors and how I pour them, and then tilt the canvas to influence how they move but that’s about it. I’m forced to let go and wait for the magic. It’s messy, there is no one way to do it and no two pieces will ever be the same.
What started as an experiment to prioritize play and get me out of a funk has turned into a practice that completely replenishes my soul and I look forward to every time.
It fills my heart with pure joy.
I paint because it makes me happy. I put on Fleetwood Mac, dance around my kitchen, pour the paint and see what happens. No expectations. No pressure.
I share my art because it feels good to take up space, to allow myself to be seen and to express my authentic, messy self. I am letting go of perfection and no longer attaching my worth to an outcome.