I set up a makeshift printmaking studio at the start of this year. It was enough to get by. A place for me to find familiarity in a once-fluent process. A moment to begin. I remarkably found this space to share some of the most impactful moments of my career thus far.

During the long and dark winter months, I shared that I finally experiment with something I’ve had on my mind for a long time - monoprints. You can read more about my story here. After spending my quiet, in-between hours bunkered in my newly established and very humble printmaking studio, I am building a collection of monoprints.

In a few swift movements, my hand started capturing desert grasses. The motion felt natural. I felt a flow as I simultaneously captured what most see as a barren landscape. 

Inspiration isn’t something I often go searching for. When I slowly adapted my creative processes to reflect my inner landscapes and seasons, I learned inspiration would become a natural part of my creative practice. I would make space to welcome it upon its natural arrival.

Fall is a popular time of year. Many people enjoy the cool weather, quiet, cozy evenings, and ongoing hosting. I'm not overtly into Fall decor like pumpkins and gourds, but I am finding exciting ways to create a warm space for guests in my new home.

I spent the beginning of this year with my creativity. It was bliss to reconnect with my pigments and fall into a friendly routine of discipline. Writing my new book, A Geology of Color gifted me so many beautiful things but I also deeply missed the familiarity of my artwork.