Thoughts, truths, and stories from a curated life.
The new year often begins with pressure to become, to improve, to hustle. We’re flooded with resolutions, goal-setting, and the subtle belief that who we are now is not enough.
But this year, I’m beginning differently.
Not with a list.
Not with urgency.
But with a quiet return to self.
I didn’t always paint like this.
There was a time when I believed I had to get it right. That art had to be clear, representational, perfectly formed. That people needed to understand what they were looking at, or it didn’t count. That’s what I thought art was.
Until one day, it wasn’t enough.
Autumn isn’t the end. It’s the pause before the becoming.
A soft hush between seasons. A golden threshold.
Where trees let go without resistance.
Where air cools, light stretches, and we begin again. Not from scratch, but from truth.
My dad is one of the most positive and joyful people I know. Curious about his constant optimism, I once asked him, “How do you stay so positive and encouraging all the time?” His response was surprisingly simple: “I just hate being miserable.” That answer made me pause. Could it really be that straightforward? Our mindset has the incredible power to shape our lives.
