I’m excited to share my first completed work of 2023 — Exclamation 1.

Exclamation 1 is 22” x 30”, colored pencil on paper.

The inspiration

Hello friend,

I hope the first month of this year has brought you peace and clarity. It’s my first winter in New York, and it’s grey and wet, but I still haven’t seen snow 🙀

I spent some time reflecting on 2022, which I share below. But I want to briefly talk about my intentions for this newsletter moving forward.

I want to share more with you in this newsletter in 2023. I don’t mean that I want to write more newsletters, necessarily. But I do want to share with you more about what I’m thinking about outside of building a creative practice, which is historically what this newsletter has been about. Don’t get me wrong, building a creative practice is still my #1 goal and something I regularly think about, but I have other things I want to share too. Like what I’m learning about leadership as I grow into a new role as a manager and how I structure my day to make time for all the important things.

last week i wrote about creative blocks, aka the thoughts and behaviors that prevent us from doing the work that matters most.

today i’m writing to you with the most honest and vulnerable newsletter i think i’ve ever written. what follows are the words i wish i could have read when i was much younger and struggling to fully commit to my creative practice.

i started working through my creative blocks in 2019, the first time i read the artist’s way. during the 12 week guided program, i named my dream of becoming a successful artist and confronted my fear of failure. i saw a few glimmers of progress and momentum, but something was still off. even when i started working through my blocks—when i stopped overworking and took long breaks from social media and set aside time for my creative practice, there was still something preventing me from deeply connecting with my dream.

this is part 2 of a three-part series where i’m writing about doing the work that matters, why it can be so hard to do this work, and the things i’ve done to get back to center and actually make progress on my life’s work.

last time i defined “the work that matters.”

this week we’re talking about blocks, or why it’s sometimes so hard to do the work that matters most to us.

i use the phrase “doing the work that matters” a lot in these letters. i realize that i should probably clarify what the hell i’m talking about.

so i’ve decided to write a 3 part series around the concept of “doing the work that matters”

1. How I define “work that matters”

2. Why it’s so hard to do this work

3. The only thing that has helped me to prioritize this work and actually make progress, aka the advice i would give my younger self as i struggled to build my art practice over the past 10 years

this is part 1 of the series.

hello friend,

it has been a while since i last sent an email. in the last 6 months a lot has changed! i moved away from home all the way to new york. i turned 30. i stopped wearing makeup, drinking caffeine, and deleted my Instagram and Twitter accounts.

Still Life: Flowers and Fruit by Severin Roesen, 1850-55, on view at the Met

at the beginning of 2022, i dedicated myself to my art practice by promising to work on art for at least 15 minutes every day. i sustained this habit for several months, right up until the move across the country, and then stopped. the truth is that settling into a new place has taken all of my energy. while some of your art practices may thrive amidst chaos, i recognize and accept that mine does not.

Hello hello! I’m going to keep it brief this month because my head is a beehive and I’m struggling to write anything coherent.

This month in the Studio Vlog I talk about the breakthrough mindset shift that happened last year in my creative practice. Turns out laziness was never my problem (and it’s probably not yours either)!!! I was expecting too much out of myself and putting all sorts of pressure on my art to be “good” and “meaningful”. This made me blocked and frustrated.

Instead, I shifted my mindset and started thinking of my art practice as a safe space for big, messy emotions. A space for experiments and mistakes and aimlessness.

Hello friend,

This month I officially started my 2022 goal of making art for at least 15 minutes every day.

As I sit down to practice, I sometimes draw or paint things that don’t turn out how I’d hoped. Ira Glass would call this “the gap”—the uncomfortable space between our taste and our current technical abilities.

I don’t like this gap. I desperately want to fast forward. Get me to the part where I make art that looks and feels good! The part where I’ve found my artistic style!

Hello, happy Sunday, how are you?

The beginning of the year is always full of PLANNING templates and spreadsheets and usually I get very into them.

This year, however, I’m trying something different.

I’ve set only one small daily habit that I’d like to keep for the year—a simple promise to myself.

Hello friend,

Someone once said to me that Decembers are the weekend of the year, and boy do I feel that. I think most of us could take the entire month off and be better for it.

I’ve been craving more space for reflection. To stretch my limbs and take the longest exhale. I want to let the days melt away and greet January’s icy breath with a warm hello.

I recently published an in-depth review of 2021, a tradition I started only last year, but one I’d like to continue. I find that this type of reflection helps to create a cohesive narrative of my life, which feels deeply healing.

Hello hi it's November!

This summer I felt a surge of creative energy. I started writing again, updated my website, prioritized sending this newsletter on a weekly basis. Painting!

Then, the season changed, and I felt my energy flattening. A big project launched at work, which provided some relief, but then it was right back to our regular cadence. Writing code. Fixing bugs. Meetings. On top of it all, I said yes to a few more social weekend outings than I knew was good for my introvert self.

I spent all of Sunday lying on the couch. Staring at the ceiling. Completely depleted. So much so that I took a mental health day on Monday, where I cut and dyed my hair, took a long bath, and tried to get a few lingering life-to-do items knocked off my list.

This week I’m coming to you with a blog post detailing my experience reading The Artist’s Way.

For those of you who have never heard of The Artist’s Way, it’s a book and twelve-week creative recovery program written by Julia Cameron. Best-selling author Elizabeth Gilbert has said that Eat, Pray, Love would not have been written without the help of The Artist’s Way.

Over the past three months I’ve been working through the chapters and trusting the process. I’ve also been going to therapy and working with a career coach.

Read Creativity is a spiritual practice: A week-by-week synopsis of how The Artist's Way changed my life and helped me work through burnout

Earlier this year, I was a mess. I'd wake up ten minutes before work, slither upstairs, and just try to make it through the day. Morning breath and sweatpants included.

I was burning out. Exhausted by 2020. Tired of feeling stuck. Tired of my own bullshit excuses.

Things started to shift when I asked for help. I went to therapy and some of the ice melted around my heart.

Slowly, I started journaling more, writing down the kind of life and career I really wanted to build. I began looking for new jobs that aligned with my vision. I hired a career coach.

Hello friend,

This week I abruptly decided to take a social media sabbatical. After feeling a bit too tethered of late, I chose to log off.

For the first few days, I stared at my phone for seemingly the same amount of time as if I still had Instagram, TikTok, and Twitter installed. I kept turning toward the screen like a phantom limb.

Good morning. Happy Sunday.

A few days ago I rearranged the downstairs living / art space.

Before, I wasn't making art there because it was cluttered and inaccessible. Now, it's much easier to sit down and start making. Bonus: the TV / record listening space is now a lot more cozy.

I changed my environment to fit my goals. It's simple. And it's an incredibly effective way to start building new habits.

Hello friends,

This week I published a list of my six favorite creative manifestos, principles, rules, whatever you want to call them!

Here's the list:

1. A soft manifesto by Cortney Cassidy
2. Principles of urgentcraft by Paul Soulellis
3. Art department rules by Sister Corita Kent
4. The basic principles of the Artist's Way by Julia Cameron
5. The eight splendid truths of happiness by Gretchen Rubin
6. A prayer for multi-passionate people by Emilie Wapnick

Sometimes when I'm out running errands, I get hungry. Hangry even. Tummy growling, headache mounting. My brow furrows. I start rushing to get things done. Instead of stopping to eat, or buying myself a snack, I tell myself to power through. "There's food at home," I say.

I never thought much of my hangry errand trips until I read Julia Cameron's description of self-destructive behaviors:

The question "Are you self-destructive?" is asked so frequently that we seldom hear it accurately. What it means is Are you destructive of your self? And what that really asks us is Are you destructive of your true nature?

When I think of being self-destructive I think about drinking too much, staying in a relationship with someone who is mean and nasty, or not getting out of bed until 3 PM.

Thanks to Reddit, I have a theory about Spongebob.

The theory is that we all come into the world as Spongebob—excited and imaginative—and then, as life happens, we morph into Squidward—disillusioned and grumpy.

Maybe you don't remember your Spongebob phase. Maybe you never had a chance. That's ok too. I think there are very admirable things about Squidward. He's not a people pleaser. He practices the clarinet in his free time. He's responsible.

Hello hi how are you?

It’s September!?!?

This month has always felt like a new beginning for me, a remnant of the start of a new school year I suppose.

Hello friends,

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about healing. What does transformative healing look like within myself? What does it look like to heal relationships with others?

About a year ago, I twisted my ankle and fell down a few stairs. For whatever reason, my hands didn’t catch the fall and I landed face-first on a rock, busting my lip.

I went to the hospital to make sure I didn’t need stitches on the inside of my mouth. I didn’t. In this instance, healing looked like taking it easy for a few weeks. Resting my ankle and waiting for the swelling in my face to go down.