September Studio Notes

Time in the studio lately has led to a few musings and updates worth sharing.

Painting with meaning. I am preparing for my first fall art festival in Maryland. Initially, I began painting random flowers and fruits, thinking those would be common decorative artwork most people would likely want to see.

As I was painting, I realized I kept having a hard time coming back to finish the piece the next day. It felt like a chore. Don’t get me wrong, I like painting everyday things as practice to shore up my technical skills, but they just don’t make the cut for works that represent my artistic voice.

I know for sure as the sky is blue that I’d rather paint people, figures and atmosphere and all of these things must have some kind meaning.

I came to this realization after reading an essay by an artist who said they dislike the assumption that art has to have a deep meaning—they simply enjoy painting whatever, with no meaning at all.

I am glad this essay crossed my feed because while I see exactly where they were coming from, it helped me double down on my own perspective. My desire, energy, and joy in working on a piece are closely tied to the meaning behind it.

It doesn’t have to be profound, but it does need to have something that conveys a feeling, sentiment or atmosphere that keeps me thinking about the piece while washing dishes, on my walks, or lifting weights in the gym. I suppose this also mirrors my taste in reading and film, works that draw you into the inner life of characters.

So I’ve been spending some time working on a painting of my mom carrying a bunch of corn she picked on her farm. I was following her around the farm back in July, and she looked so adorable and determined pulling ears of corn for us to grill that evening.

I was proud of her at that moment—her ability to grow things, grow them well. Her knack for science, agriculture, and reading the land.

This painting isn’t quite finished yet, but it solidified my musing on painting with meaning.

I’ve abandoned the more random subjects I was making for the art fair altogether. Instead, I am making faces of people who are I imagine are sitting in silence, contemplating or thinking “what the helly” as they process the timeline we are all living in.

Upcoming exhibit. For the month of October, my Solitude and Offerings art series will be on display at Lady Clipper Barbershop on U street in Washington, DC. Lady Clipper is a serene, inclusive, woman-owned barbershop in DC where the owner Lesley priorities community, inclusion, and care.

Over the years, she has built the shop into more than just a place to get a haircut, it’s a hub where people feel seen and cared for (you can read a Washington Post write up about the shop here). Lesley has been spotlighting local artists in her shop and she has been prodding me for the last year to bring my work to her shop.

This showing feels both personal and exciting. Personal, because it connects my art to a community. Exciting, because it stretches the idea of where art can be public facing—not only in galleries or formal spaces, but also in places where people gather, connect, and care for themselves. To me, that feels good. If you are in the DC area and don’t need a haircut but just want to see my work, the space is very welcoming, so poke in and have a look.

Letting go. Earlier this year, I made prints of my work because I was often asked about selling my original pieces, and I hesitated to do so. But after returning from my summer travels and seeing the homes of artists, and how they filled their spaces with original artworks by their contemporaries, I decided I want some of my own originals to move on to new homes. I’ve chosen to release and sell a few works I was initially hesitant to part with. You can visit my site to see what’s available in my Solitude and Offerings original oil painting series.