There are pieces that are planned… and then there are pieces that arrive through prayer. This one came slowly. Thread by thread, like a quiet knowing unfolding beneath my hands. A womb. A holding. A sacred space of becoming. Within it lives our story ~ myself, my husband, and the five lives we were entrusted to nurture and carry forward. Not perfectly formed, not neatly contained ~ but woven together in love, in faith, in all that has shaped us. This next chapter of the studi

“The quieter you become, the more you are able to hear.” That quote speaks into what this studio is becoming a most wonderful hermitage where silence and stillness shines with the simplest of rules: 1. Begin the day in stillness Before the world enters the mind, pause. light a candle sit quietly pray, contemplate and reflect breathe in the new day Even ten quiet minutes roots the day differently. 2. Tend the living world watering plants tending a garden sitting beneath a tree

Dear friends and followers, There comes a moment when listening to the body begins to change the shape of life itself. Not dramatically. Not overnight. But quietly, through a series of small decisions. In earlier years I often built my days around expectation and what needed to be finished, what others required, what productivity seemed to demand. My body simply followed along as best it could. But living with complex health eventually asks a different question: What if life

“If Letter One was illumination, Letter Two is warmth. And so I say to you this week…”

I’ve been quieter than usual these past couple of weeks ~ not absent, still creating, still tending to my work and the practical rhythms of selling art ~ but choosing silence and stillness more intentionally. I’ve been sitting with prayer, journaling (as I always do), and mindful meditation, allowing space for listening rather than answering. In all of that the whispers have gotten louder than ever before to get intentional with allowing stillness to take me where it’s never

Truly I tell you, that letting myself discern and learn more about the creative processes regarding self portraits ~ I am working how to see myself, and so it is that portraiture is teaching me how to see the world. And so it is that I am diving deeper into the lives and histories of others. That prayer I shared led me deep into the soul of portraiture. If self portraits are a way of learning how to see myself truthfully, then portraiture is how I learn to see others with th

“I have learned that seeing differently is not a flaw. It is a way of attending. A way of listening. A way of…”

“I sit here as the fourth week of Advent begins…”

“…these red dirt roads are not where faith is tested, but where faith is taught.”

“…faith doesn’t always arrive as certainty, sometimes it arrives as inheritance…”

A Year In Review - “Late in 2024, I sat with a vision board and a heart that was learning slowly how to trust again…”

There is a kind of rest that comes only after we stop trying to deserve it. This week, as I linger in the early rooms of The Interior Castle, I am becoming more aware of how deeply I am trained to strive, even in prayer. Especially in prayer. I notice how quickly my soul wants to bring something with it. Words. Effort. Insight. Proof of progress. And yet, Saint Teresa speaks of these first rooms not as places of achievement, but of awakening. The soul is not yet flooded with

I have such big plans for Studio Kre’at and so it is that I am letting December be slow and intentional allowing me to make room for what has been and what will become. And so I sit and reflect, I see how this year has taught me to rest ~ not in what I cannot do, but in what I have been given to do. To bring hope. To carry light. I invite you to sit now with me on my back lawn as the whispers of 2025 and 2026 have found me.

“Lately, I have not grown louder. I have grown quieter…”

It’s the moments on waking this morning, that have me back in the journal. And after a number of days off, simply to go inwards in a deeper way ~ I know that I am not a content machine. I am a woman simply listening for light. That knowledge allows me wisdom on a grander scale and that slower rhythm wandered honours that wisdom of the vocation I have. This slower rhythm does three sacred things all at once: Protects my interior life Keeps this studio visible Prepares hear

“And so this little painting of washing on the line becomes a prayer in itself…”

There are moments in life when the road beneath us feels like a witness ~ quiet, steady, and strangely alive. It remembers the weight of our steps, the seasons we walked through, and the shifts of heart we carried along the way. This week’s Art Spotlight features a piece that arrived exactly in that spirit: a girl standing on a long, earthy red road, her back turned, just about to walk into a horizon that feels both unknown and deeply familiar. When I painted her, I wasn’t th

There is a moment, right here with this self portrait, where surrender becomes strength. In the creating of this piece, I wanted to show the wind on my skin reminding myself that I am still alive, and the sea whispers don’t rush healing ~ it will come when it needs too. I am standing with arms open, not in defeat, but in a brave invitation to the horizon: “I am here. I’m ready to breathe again.” The waves carry stories of what I have survived. The tide attempts to pull away

“This week’s Art Spotlight Tuesday brings a piece still in progress, a mixed media work of oil paint and oil pastels, alive with…”