Inside the Studio
Inside the Studio is where the practice lives when no one is watching.
Except — you are.
This is me sharing the work as it unfolds — the paintings, the process, the mornings that don’t go as planned, the life that holds it all together.
Sometimes it’s a video where I’m talking directly to you. Sometimes it’s what my daughter said at dinner, or what surfaced in a conversation I wasn’t expecting.
Everything here is shaped by the RIPPLE Practice™ — you won’t always see those words, but you’ll start to recognize the movements in the way I work, in the way I let things be finished before I feel ready.
There’s no feed to keep up with, no threads to respond to, no progress to perform.
You come when you want to. You take what resonates. You might read every post the day it goes up, or check in once a month, or just like knowing the door is open. Nothing is mandated or expected.
This isn’t a transaction — it’s a connection. $10/month or $108/year. Cancel anytime.
Welcome Inside the Studio
Welcome to the Studio! I’m so glad you’re here. This post is our community table — an open forum just for us.
It’s been a month (almost)
The manuscript is back from my publisher, and I'm realizing the story I told about this work a year ago isn't quite the story anymore.
Multitasking every day
Finding calm in the chaos. There are so many art projects strewn across my table, but each one brings me so much joy.
Unlocking something within
Three weeks of acupuncture, a sheet of paper that waited, and what I finally heard when my nervous system got quiet enough to listen.
Life goes on…
A quick life and health update plus a recap of the volunteer luncheon celebration where I was the keynote speaker.
Mid-April check-in
A health update, an event with over hundred attendees and a birthday celebrated.
Parts of Each Other
Even thought I make almost everyday, making in community feels different. The reminders I give others are usually things I need to say to myself, too.
The World Didn’t Stop
This time my body didn’t ask. It just stopped. While I was lying in that ER bed, staring at a ceiling I’d never chosen to be under, the world outside kept going.
