When the fog of my cold finally lifted, I found myself craving the rhythm of creating again — the soft sound of scissors trimming paper, the feel of a brush moving pigment into water, the quiet hum of my workspace.
I started small — literally.
Each piece in this new series is a mixed media fine art original on 140lb cold press watercolor paper. I trimmed each sheet by hand into ACEO dimensions, letting the repetition steady my thoughts and ease me back into flow.
From there, I began layering: watercolor washes, soft marks of ink, subtle textures that built into something whole. Each piece felt like its own conversation between stillness and motion.
Between sessions, I researched how to care for them properly. Dorland’s Wax Medium became my final layer — a protective, gentle finish that preserves the surface while keeping its natural texture alive. I found clear protective sleeves to keep each work safe for collectors, ready to travel.
When it came time to photograph them, I set up by the window — the same one I had gazed through while resting. The natural light revealed tones and textures I hadn’t noticed before, like the work itself was breathing.
Behind the scenes, I created new space on my website: a dedicated collection, a proper home for these small works that carry quiet energy and fine detail. I drafted captions, adjusted navigation, and planned how to share them across social media — slow, deliberate steps that mirrored how they were made.
Creating this collection reminded me that meaning doesn’t depend on scale.
Each small surface holds layers of time, patience, and renewal. And maybe that’s what recovery really is — a slow return to self, one layer at a time.
Creativity doesn’t rush; it resumes.
The work waits for us — just as we wait to feel ready again.
