I wanted to blog about my advent pieces before we got too far away from Christmas, but I am waiting on them to be completely ready before I blog about them. So, I decided to do a little picture blog of me painting. I usually paint in solitude, so I rarely have someone to photograph me. Jack has taken pics a few times. I’m going to share a few of those here. I have been painting in oils since 2012. I was always creative, but not always artistic as a kid. After running across this first pic, I realized I grew up watercoloring all the time as a kid. I loved it. I also loved spin art and, of course, coloring.

This is me coloring on a camping trip with my brother by my side. As much as I grew up wanting to be just like my brother and sister, this (painting) was my thing. After seeing this pic for the first time this summer, that became clear to me. I loved to paint! I did it often! But I also remember that most of the time I was doing it alone while others supervised or just watched. I’ve learned a whole lot realizing all of this.

This is a picture of the very first time I ever painted in oils. A friend, who was an oil painter, invited me along with a few other women to paint together one Saturday in October 2012. I walked in late because of my daughter’s soccer game. I sat down to an easel, a palette full of paint in all the colors I needed, and brushes in multiple shapes and sizes. I had this sunflower arrangement and a blank canvas in front of me and as I picked up my brush covered in the paint I mixed, I couldn’t make it touch the canvas. I held it within an inch of the umber tinted surface and cried. I was stuck in time and couldn’t move. The other women stopped and looked while speaking words of encouragement. I couldn’t even speak about what I was experiencing. I wasn’t afraid. I was emotional and taking it all in because deep down in my soul I new that the next moment would change my life forever. See, I grew up going to art galleries in every town and city my family visited. My family had artist friends whose work we admired and whose paintings hung in our home. I grew up admiring artists and being intrigued by them. I would go on to get my degree in art history and to visit some of the best galleries in the world. Using a brush on a canvas was what others did, not me. In that moment the perfectionist little girl in me knew that putting my brush strokes on a canvas meant stepping into a field I had never entered and I wanted to do my best. I wanted to paint something worth painting, and I wanted it to reveal something about myself in the process. I wanted it to matter. This felt bigger than me. It felt bigger than a girl starting a new hobby. Since that day, I’ve come to realize what the tears meant and why it felt so big. The lessons I’ve learned along the way have been priceless and the woman typing this now has been changed, truly transformed from the inside out.

This is a pic early on painting a Texas farm scene. I had a lot fun painting this piece because it reminded me of so many wonderful childhood memories.

This is another older picture of me painting a special Vermont farm scene for my parents.

This is an image of me painting one of my abstract pieces.

This is a fun one of me painting a type of autobiographical piece.

This is me starting one of my larger beach scenes.

This is me with my favorite larger beach scene. I had never painted a large representational painting before. What occurred that day was nothing but magical. I was in the flow. I would have chosen a more flattering photo, but I kind of like this one because it is very similar to the childhood one because of how I’m holding my mouth and tongue while painting. Maybe some things haven’t changed. HAHA!

This is one of my all time faves because it was taken by my photographer son and because I’m pictured here painting in my parents’ garden.

And last but not least, a pic of me painting smaller pieces in the studio. Thanks for making it to the end of these. I thought it might be fun to share a little of the unpolished behind the scenes aspect of my art.