I was taking a walk with a friend the other day, and we found ourselves comparing notes on the changes that come as our kids get older and the rhythms of family life begin to shift. We're entering a new season, my friend and I acknowledged. And it occurred to me that I'm entering a new season in my professional life, too.
Earlier this year, my non-art-related career came to an unexpected end when the company I'd worked for since I was 29 closed its doors. Losing that stable income just as our oldest was in her freshman year of college was unsettling, to say the least.
I was determined to look at the bright side. Over the years, my teaching and painting business had gradually taken shape alongside my full-time career. I was looking forward to having more time to devote to it. But just a few months after I said goodbye to the day job, the studio where I taught was hit by a flood and temporarily closed its doors, disrupting that plan as well.
And then, quite unexpectedly, a unique opportunity appeared.
I was walking through my neighborhood in Kensington, Maryland, when I noticed a beautiful new studio space. It was light-filled, charming, and right in the middle of the sweet little downtown area I love. I immediately reached out to the owner, a fellow local artist I already knew. We agreed to a three-month rental, with enough room for me to continue teaching while carving out dedicated space for my own painting.
Renting a studio outside my home was a big financial leap at a time when our family's finances were already adjusting to a significant change. But for the first time in decades, I actually had the time to paint, develop new ideas, and give my art career more attention.
The opportunity was exciting. The timing was indeed questionable. The possibilities were hard to ignore.
A Little Experiment
A few years ago, I spent two weeks immersed in an artist residency in France. It was an unforgettable experience, but two weeks wasn't nearly enough time to answer some of the bigger questions I had about my own art practice.
So I decided to create a little residency of my own in Kensington, just a mile from home rather than an ocean away. I wanted to explore what it might look like to work independently, establish a routine around painting, teach in my own space, and build a sustainable business around both painting and teaching.
I discovered that, for me, a sustainable painting practice doesn't require a perfect routine. I could keep my morning meditation, make time for exercise and family, and still arrive at the studio around noon or one. I'd bring my lunch or walk across the street to the deli for a bagel, spend a little time catching up on administrative tasks, and then turn up the music and settle into painting until four or five.
Of course, there were trips to Georgia to visit our daughter at school, doctor's appointments, and countless other random things that interrupted the routine. But having this special place to go, with dedicated time for my own thoughts and work, made a difference.
I also loved having my own space to teach. Painting and teaching in the same space fit together more naturally than I had imagined. I could paint on the days I taught, often picking up my brushes while the lessons, and sometimes the paint, were still fresh. The two activities informed one another in ways I hadn't anticipated.
Making Room for New Work
Perhaps the most tangible outcome has been the opportunity to develop a new body of work. I've been exploring the ways our experiences in nature find their way into our inner lives, using floral forms, color, and composition to capture something of that connection.
Having the time and space to experiment, work on several paintings at once, and see how the ideas evolve has been especially rewarding. I've begun thinking beyond individual paintings and considering how a collection might come together.
There's still plenty to figure out, particularly how to balance teaching, painting, and the business of selling my work. Growing my painting practice will require being intentional about protecting time for making art and getting that work out into the world.
What's Next?
As this residency comes to a close, I'll miss having a studio right in the middle of downtown Kensington. I've loved making this space my own, welcoming students, and contributing to the neighborhood “vibe.”
The three-month experiment has given me a lot to think about. I've learned a great deal about how I want to approach this next chapter of my art career, and I'm looking forward to seeing where it leads. For now, I'm taking what I've learned and making room for what's next.
