The Stories Inside the Frame

How an Instagram challenge sparked a collection—and helped me through a tough week

If you've been following me on Instagram, you may have seen my recent pieces for the #scaryandsweet2025 art challenge. What started as a fun, seasonal prompt list has unexpectedly turned into something more—a themed collection, rich with character, storytelling, and creative healing.

Initially, I didn’t plan for a collection to emerge. In fact, after my second prompt felt like a total flop, I went back and redid it in the same style as the first: a single framed character set against wallpaper. That was the “click.” Something about that format—one central figure, a bold Victorian frame, a background that hints at time and place—allowed my imagination to stretch.

Each new piece follows this structure:
🎨 The same vibrant Halloween color palette
🖼️ A recurring oval frame on wallpaper
🧚‍♀️ One central character with a name and backstory

Some of these stories are personal, like Knives Meow, featuring my own kitten, Mia, proudly baring her tiny claws. Others draw from literature or nostalgia—like Shelly, inspired by the playful ghost my kids and I believe haunts their bedroom Yoto speaker. (Is it really a ghost? I’ll never tell.)

Right now, I’m working on a piece called Periwinkle and Poison, loosely based on Tribulation Periwinkle, a Civil War nurse from Louisa May Alcott’s Hospital Sketches. She’s taking on an eerie, spectral quality reminiscent of Disneyland’s Haunted Mansion bride, and I can’t wait to see her come to life.

Periwinkle & Poison

My quick sketches of my next prompt.

But here's the deeper truth: creating this collection has helped me stay grounded through some hard emotional territory I’m navigating personally. Art doesn’t fix everything, but it gives me a way to keep hope alive, even when life feels heavy.

This challenge is also stretching my style in new directions. I’m working with a palette that’s brighter than my usual comfort zone, and experimenting with how far I can push the balance between "cute" and "creepy." Some pieces miss the mark (Crab Louie, I'm looking at you), but others, like Inky the Octopus and Shelly, feel like they might be keepers.

What's Next?

💌 If you’d like to follow along and help shape this evolving collection, I’m sharing sketches and voting polls over on Patreon. My patrons will receive two exclusive rewards from this collection—likely a sticker and a postcard featuring the fan favorites.

📸 You can also catch the creative process in real time on Instagram: @starthistle.and.quartz

💬 I’d love to hear from you: which piece from this collection is your favorite? What character would you dream up for a prompt like “Ghosts and Gardens” or “Periwinkle and Poison”?

Want to join the challenge?

The #scaryandsweet2025 challenge is hosted by a wonderfully spooky and sweet group of creatives:
@roymeister
@heathermuellerdesign
@heyalissandra
@jenprocreates
@jessmillerdraws

5 Things Keeping Me Creatively Grounded Right Now

“Love Potion” by Therese Tucker.

Lately, I’ve been holding a lot—artistically, emotionally, and energetically. With big creative goals, active art challenges, a coaching practice, and my daily life in full swing, I’ve realized how important it is to have grounding practices that keep me connected to the joy and purpose of creating.

These aren’t complicated or “productivity hacks.” They’re small, soulful things that bring me back to center—and I want to share them in case you need that too.

1. A Warm Mug While I Work

Whether it’s a favorite tea blend or my evening magnesium hot chocolate, having a cozy, comforting drink by my side while I work makes the whole experience feel more intentional. It’s a small ritual, but it turns my art practice into a moment I look forward to.

2. Mantras That Unlock Flow

When I’m feeling uncertain or overwhelmed, I remind myself:
“I can do this.”
That simple phrase helps soften my shoulders, unlock my wrists, and let me drop back into flow. It pulls me out of worrying about outcomes and into enjoying the process.

3. Artist Challenges & Creative Kinship

Participating in artist challenges—like the #scaryandsweet2025 challenge—has been such a grounding force. Seeing how other artists interpret the same prompt reminds me we’re all connected, and it makes creating feel like a conversation instead of a solo act. It's also where I've been sharing and developing a new collection—surprising even myself!

4. Letting Color Lead

Color is always the first place I start. When I lock in a palette—whether it’s deep Prussian blue, warm vermilions, or glowing golds—I feel lit up and excited to keep going. I often joke it’s like eating the frosting before the cake, and honestly? It is.

5. Visioning Instead of Rushing

I’ve started journaling more intentionally—not just to log my days, but to listen. To ask questions like:
– What kind of art do I want to make?
– What am I trying to say with my work?
– What would it feel like to create from a deep sense of purpose?

Right now, I feel like I’m holding a world in my hands—something not fully formed, but alive. It’s not just a collection. It’s a world that wants to come through. And I’m learning to treat that world gently... like a cat that might jump into your lap if you give it space and time.

You’re Not Behind, You’re Becoming

If you’re also in the middle of something—if you’re trying to make sense of your art, or your purpose, or the direction that calls you—this is your reminder that it’s okay not to have all the answers yet.

The knowing will come.
The art will come.
Your direction will reveal itself in its own rhythm.

💌 Come Along For the Journey

I’m sharing my creative evolution—my collections in progress, sketchbook flips, challenges, and monthly art rewards—on Patreon. I’d love for you to join me there if you want a closer look behind the scenes. 💖

And if you’re seeking daily inspiration, you can always download my Art + Soul Journal—a year-long prompt guide for connecting more deeply to your creative self.

When the Collection Finds You

Meet “Knives Meow” from my Scary + Sweet Collection.

Reflections on unexpected inspiration, “ugly” sketchbooks, and letting the art take the lead

Every October, the art world lights up with prompt challenges. From #Inktober to #Peachtober to smaller niche lists, the community energy is high—and this year, I joined the #ScaryandSweet2025 challenge on Instagram (hosted by @roymeister, @heathermuellerdesign, @heyalissandra, @jenprocreates, and @jessmillerdraws). I entered with one small intention: use a single color palette for the month.

That’s it. No plan, no vision, just show up and make art.

And then… something happened.

After creating my first prompt piece ("sweet + sharp"—a kitten baring its claws, framed in Victorian wallpaper), I took a totally different approach with my second. It fell flat. It didn’t feel like me. So I reworked it using the same structure as the first—and suddenly, something clicked.

A collection had quietly started forming without my permission.

Every piece since then has followed the same loose format: a wallpapered background, a central frame, and a character. Each one rooted in the theme of the prompt, but shaped more by feeling than logic. I’m not even usually drawn to spooky or Halloween-inspired art, but working with these themes has given me more creative freedom than I expected. I’m chasing texture. I’m sketching in a deliberately “ugly” sketchbook. I’m letting go.

And more than anything—I’m letting the art tell me what it wants to become.

Growing Out Loud

There’s something awkward about evolving your style in public. I look back on old work and sometimes feel disconnected. Some pieces still feel true. Others feel like echoes of another artist—or like I was just following a tutorial. There’s pride, sure, but there’s also cringey vulnerability.

Still—I’m glad I kept sharing.

I believe art that truly moves people doesn’t come from strategy. It comes from surrender. From being the channel. When you let go of the outcome and simply prepare the space—your art will meet you there.

💌 Want to See the Collection?

You can view the first 5 pieces of this evolving series over on Instagram at @starthistle.and.quartz. Want to help me vote on which piece becomes the October Patreon reward? Come join me on Patreon where this collection is unfolding in real time—postcards, stickers, and behind-the-scenes process videos included.

Finding My Art Niche: What If the Clarity Comes After the Choice?

“Tide Pool” by Therese Tucker

For years, I’ve heard that in order to grow an audience and connect with collectors, clients, or art lovers, you have to niche down. Choose your palette. Choose your subject. Pick a medium. Make your path clear and consistent.

But here’s the thing no one talks about: what if you can feel the direction of your niche in your bones but can’t quite see the art that lives inside it yet?

That’s where I am now.

My Niche Has a Shape—But Not a Face (Yet)

When I think of niching, I don’t just imagine a subject matter—I imagine a set of creative tools, a way of working, a tone of voice. Something like:

Children’s books with mythical, woodland characters in earthy tones mixed with brights—painted in gouache, neo color and ink, with organic shapes and varied line weights.

It’s close. I feel it. But then, the resistance kicks in.

Because... what if I make the wrong choice?
What if I get bored and abandon it later?
What if the characters I think I want to draw never actually arrive?

Overthinking is the Vortex, Not the Solution

I’ve done the research. I’ve studied my own portfolio. I’ve reflected on what mediums bring me joy. I’ve run pieces through both handmade and digital to see what matches my soul. I even turned to my AI collaborator for feedback.

But what I’ve realized is this: you cannot think your way into a niche.
You can only live your way into it.

So what do I do now?
I write.
I sketch.
I make the next piece.

Instead of waiting for the full cast of characters to arrive, I’m starting a journal. I’ll write down what I know: the setting, the mood, the tone. Maybe the characters will walk in through the side door once I stop demanding they show up on command.

And you know what? I’m inviting you to come with me as this niche unfolds.

“Witch’s Book Shop” pattern

These recent pieces are all part of different art challenges I have joined in October.

✨ Follow the Evolution in Real Time on Patreon

If you’re curious to see how this creative direction takes shape—what pieces get made, what sketches evolve into stories, and how style and subject continue to merge—you’ll find all of that over on my Patreon.

It’s where I share my works in progress, behind-the-scenes thoughts, sketchbook pages, and early releases of collections and illustrations. I’d love to have you there.

Because the truth is, the niche is finding me, too.

✨ Want to follow the story as it’s written?
Come join me on Patreon to watch my niche take shape in real time.

The Artists Who Shaped My Style

“Frog + Foxglove” by Therese Tucker 2025.

If you look closely at my work, you’ll see a quiet trail leading back to some of the artists who shaped me—both consciously and unconsciously. Their fingerprints are all over my creative instincts, my sense of color, and the way I approach a blank page.

My Early Artistic Influences

Before I ever called myself an artist, I was being shaped by art.

Beatrix Potter was one of my first companions. Her stories and illustrations lived on my porcelain dish set as a child, tucked into bedtime stories, and woven into the fabric of my earliest memories. I engaged with her every single day, and that gentle, English countryside whimsy still lives in my work. I didn’t choose her influence—it chose me.

Then came Mary Blair. As a child, I didn’t know her name, but I knew the way Alice in Wonderland and Cinderellamade me feel. Later, I discovered that Mary was the visionary behind those concept sketches—the colors, the odd shapes, the bold whimsy—and I felt like I had found the heartbeat of something I had always known.

In my teenage years, I discovered Michael Parkes. I bought a poster of his surreal ballerina painting and hung it above my bed. His dreamlike imagery, celestial themes, and graceful women deeply influenced the way I imagined characters and movement. For years, he was the artist I aspired to emulate.

How Their Influence Shows Up in My Work

Today, you might not see them directly in my art—but I do.

From Beatrix, I inherited my love of animals, the woodland world, and a soft touch in my linework. From Mary, the ability to lean into odd color pairings, slightly skewed perspective, and playful storytelling. From Michael, the sense of elegance, flow, and emotion through figure and atmosphere.

Even when I can't see their presence clearly, other people do—especially recently as I’ve been creating work for the #botanicalsandbeasties2025 challenge. Multiple people have noted a vintage Disney quality in my illustrations. That’s Mary, peeking through. And when I’m leaning into tenderness, subtle colors, and soft character design? That’s Beatrix.

Letting Go to Make Space for My Own Voice

As I’ve grown, I’ve also started to notice which influences I’ve let go of. Michael Parkes used to be a main character in my visual world. But over time, I’ve drifted away from surrealism and toward something more grounded, gentle, and romantic. More woodland, less angelic. More storybook, less allegorical.

It’s been important for me to allow my influences to evolve with me. I no longer feel the need to imitate—now, I’m integrating.

What I Hope People Feel in My Work

I don’t necessarily want you to say, “Ah! Mary Blair!” or “This reminds me of Beatrix Potter!” What I hope you feel is a sense of comfort, serenity, and that there’s space for you in my work. I want my art to feel safe and tender—a kind of soft place to land.

I imagine it in children’s rooms, in quiet corners of the home, or gifted to someone who needs something gentle. I hope it inspires without overwhelming.

Want to See My Visual Inspirations?

If you’re curious about what lights me up creatively, you can explore my Mary Blair–inspired Pinterest board here and peek into the worlds that shape my imagination.

And if you want to start a creative practice of your own, check out my Art & Soul Journal, a year-long guide filled with 365 creative prompts to spark your imagination. It’s my gift to you.

➡️ Get the Art & Soul Journal here

🧁 What’s Next?

If this post resonates with you, I’d love for you to:

September 2025 Patreon Reward

• Leave a comment and tell me who shaped your creative path.

• Join me on Patreon to see which of my illustrations become postcards, stickers, and behind-the-scenes goodies.

• Follow along on Instagram @starthistle.and.quartz to see the art as it’s created in real time.

Finding My Digital vs Traditional Style

How I'm Bridging the Gap Between Two Creative Worlds

I’ve been an artist for most of my life, but it wasn’t until 2015 that I dipped my brush into the world of digital art. I started using Procreate, slowly learning how to build artwork layer by layer. It was exciting—but also like developing a whole new brain. What began as curiosity quickly became a powerful tool in my creative toolkit. I could suddenly zoom out, undo, and refine in ways that traditional painting never allowed. And yet… something was missing.

Where They Align—And Where They Diverge

While my digital and traditional art often look similar in terms of style and subject matter (whimsical, painterly, a bit storybook), they feel different to me as the maker. I use a lot of mixed media in my handmade pieces—gouache, pencil, pen, and ink—to create textured, tactile work that you can feel through the screen.

Digitally, I do my best to mimic that richness using pencil and gouache brushes, but the result is smoother, a little flatter. I sometimes worry it’s too polished. That’s the paradox of digital art: its greatest strength is also its potential weakness. The ability to over-perfect is tempting. And yet, what I love about traditional art is exactly what can’t be faked—imperfection, intuition, texture.

Imperfection Is the Point

I believe we’re in an era where people crave the human touch in art. With AI creating work that’s clean and hyper-refined, handmade art—with its quirks and wobbles—is soulfully grounding. There’s value in the imperfections: brushstrokes that aren’t quite even, or sketches that wander off-center.

Painting by hand remains my true love. It's a full-body experience—the drag of pencil across paper, the way water blooms through pigment, the meditative stillness of watching color dry. That slowness, that sensory connection, is something digital art can’t replicate.

But I also know digital art is a powerful tool—it lets me reach a wider audience, create for licensing, and develop products like prints and stickers. It belongs in my world too.

What the Prompt Challenges Are Teaching Me

Lately, I’ve been participating in the #Botanicalbeasties2025 challenge, creating both sketchbook pages and digital illustrations based on the same prompts. And what I’ve noticed is this: my traditional sketchbook pages are getting more engagement. People seem drawn to the warmth and personality they carry. And while my digital versions are lovely, they don’t yet spark quite the same feeling.

This feedback is valuable. It tells me where I’m strong, where I need more time to refine, and how I can bring both mediums into better harmony. I’m not looking for perfection—just honesty in my style.

What I’m Learning About My Artistic Voice

Right now, I’m somewhere between “refining” and “revealing.” I see the storybook whimsy that’s been growing in my work—and I want to nurture it. I admire minimalist, poetic styles like Rifle Paper Co. and wonder how to let that influence evolve organically in my own voice.

I’m also noticing how much color palettes and mood shape my style across mediums. In my “Green Witch” digital piece, using green and its red complement helped the character pop in a way that felt just right. That’s something I’m carrying into both worlds—color as a storytelling tool.

For the Artists in the Middle

If you’re also bouncing between mediums or unsure if your work is “consistent enough,” I just want to say: you’re exactly where you need to be. You’re not late, you’re not lost—you’re in progress. Sometimes clarity comes from the act of creating itself. Just make the next thing. The answers reveal themselves in motion.

If you’d like to follow along as I continue to merge these two worlds, you’re always welcome to join me on Patreon. That’s where I share exclusive behind-the-scenes, sketches, process shots, and the finished pieces that will become part of sticker sets, postcards, and mini collections.

This is the era of integration—digital and traditional, intuition and refinement, play and purpose.

And I’m glad you’re here for it.

📌 Bonus Links

👉 Follow the prompt challenge: #botanicalsandbeasties2025
👉 See my current art process on Instagram
👉 Collect exclusive art on Patreon

When the Dream Feels Heavy: Navigating Overwhelm as a Creative

My latest entry in the #botanicalbeasties2025 challenge has been my personal anthem this year.

I’ve been feeling it lately—the tug between being deeply proud of how far I’ve come… and the quiet hum of stress that creeps in when everything feels urgent at once.

Between growing my art business, building a portfolio, participating in challenges, showing up on Patreon, coaching clients, writing this blog, managing my health, and showing up for my family—I'm holding a lot. And sometimes that weight tips into overwhelm.

But here’s the thing I’ve learned:

Overwhelm doesn’t mean you’re on the wrong path.
It means you care. It means you’re dreaming big.
It means you're growing.

How I Know I’ve Hit My Limit

The first sign for me is always in my body. My nervous system starts buzzing. My brain can’t focus. Everything starts to feel muddy, and my next steps stop feeling clear.

It’s the signal I’ve learned to pay attention to.
Because when my body says “too much,” it means I’m out of alignment with what matters most.

My Reset Ritual: Getting Back to Center

When it all feels like too much, I stop.

I put everything down and ask myself one question:
“What is the actual priority right now?”

Sometimes I walk outside barefoot and just let the earth hold me for a few minutes. Other times I’ll do breathwork, EFT (tapping), or vagus nerve toning to bring my body back into a state of safety before making any decisions.

Because I know: If I don’t calm the chaos in my body, I’ll only recreate it in my to-do list.

The Thought Shift That Helps Me Most

Here’s the most powerful reframe I’ve been leaning on:

“My thoughts are not facts.”

When I’m overwhelmed, my brain starts sounding the alarm:
You’re falling behind. You should be further along. You’re not doing enough.

But those are not truths. They’re just stress responses.
And when I can pause, take a breath, and get curious. I remember that I am doing enough. I’m moving forward.
Even if it’s slower than I’d like.

What I Never Want to Let Go Of

Even when things feel intense, I know there are a few anchors I want to hold onto:

• Writing this blog (like I’m doing now).

• Connecting with my patrons on Tuesdays.

• Creating art that inspires me first.

These are my grounding threads. They keep the dream alive, even when the path feels twisty.

A Word for You (If You’re in This Too)

If you’re a creative person trying to balance big goals with real life (and you feel the pressure mounting) I want you to know this:

This moment doesn’t define your whole journey.

Sometimes we think that because we love what we do, the process should feel easy. But creating a meaningful life isn’t always easy. Sometimes it’s messy. Sometimes it’s exhausting.

But that doesn’t mean you’re off track.
It means you’re doing something real.

What’s Helping Me Find Balance Right Now

Writing.
Reflection.
Slowing down when my nervous system says “pause.”
Giving myself permission to walk away and come back with clarity.
And remembering: Progress doesn’t always feel like progress when you’re in the middle of it.

Let’s Keep Growing Together

This blog has become a place where I track my own growth, share my honest process, and remind myself (and hopefully you) that the creative path is worth it—even when it’s heavy.

If you want to see what I’m working on behind the scenes, or support my journey in real-time, I’d love to welcome you over on Patreon. I share current sketchbooks, art process updates, and reflections just like this one, so we can grow side-by-side.

💖 And if you're new here, you can also download my Art + Soul Journal, a free 365-day prompt guide to help you stay creatively connected (even when you're tired). You’ll find it right here.

💌 What about you?

Are you in a season where the dream feels heavy?
What helps you come back to center?

Tag me on Instagram or leave a comment here — I'd love to hear how you're navigating the fullness of being a creative in this season.

Prompt Season Magic: How Art Challenges Are Shaping My Style

My sketchbook practice for the #botanicalsandbeasties2025 challenge.

If you’ve been on Instagram lately, you’ve probably seen it: prompt season is in full bloom. October is around the corner, and with it comes a wave of creativity—#Inktober, #Peachtober, #Spelltember, #ScaryandSweet2025, and countless more.

As an artist building her professional portfolio, I love this time of year. It's alive with inspiration, camaraderie, and momentum. Right now I’m participating in:

• #BotanicalsandBeasties2025

• #Spelltember2025

• ...and soon, #ScaryandSweet2025

Each list is uniquely themed and lovingly hosted by artists I admire. (You’ll find links to the hosts at the end of this post if you want to join, too!)

Why I Love Prompt Challenges

There’s something electric about working through prompts with a live community. It’s like you're tuning in to the same frequency as a tribe of fellow dreamers and creatives.

For me, it’s also a powerful way to:

• Spark fresh ideas (ones I wouldn’t have imagined on my own)

• Loosen the grip of perfectionism

• Explore my evolving style and voice

• Get real feedback from my community

For example, I created a piece called “Crows + Cherries” for #botanicalsandbeasties2025, and someone said it reminded them of vintage cartoons—which is amazing, because I found inspiration in Marc Davis's raven from Sleeping Beauty. That comment made me realize how my instincts for character design are starting to peek through, and it felt so encouraging.

“Crows + Cherries”

Imagining my quirky crows hanging in the lobby of a chic building.

Not Just Play—Also Portfolio

Some prompts just feel fun, like visual playtime. Others, like the one I’m currently working on for Spelltember, begin to build stories. (I'm illustrating a “green witch” character gathering flowers in the woods with her dog—can’t wait to share it!)

These prompts are helping me define:

• What kind of stories I want to tell

• What color palettes I’m naturally drawn to

• What people respond to most in my art

I’m even testing pieces in both storybook and editorial styles to see what lands best.

What Prompt Season is Teaching Me

Honestly? It’s teaching me to trust myself.

Before I start a piece, I often don’t know what it’s going to become. But as I let my hand move and the colors emerge, I’m reminded that my inner artist knows the way.

And yes—these pieces are fun, but they’re also portfolio-worthy. Many of my strongest patterns and illustrations have emerged from past challenges. I’m excited to mine this season for gems, too.

Want to Join In?

If you’re craving a little creative spark, I hope you’ll jump into a prompt challenge. Start with something small—even one word a week—and let it inspire you.

And if you want even more prompts, I’ve created a full year of them in my free resource:
👉 The 365-Day Art & Soul Journal

You can also find me on Instagram at @starthistle.and.quartz, where I share my sketches and finished pieces, and on Patreon for behind-the-scenes looks at my process.

Bonus Freebie:

✨ Want a quick creative nudge?
Download my Sketchbook Warm-Up Guide – it’s a no-commitment gift to help you loosen up and spark ideas:
Click here to get the guide

💬 I’d Love to Hear From You!

Are you doing a prompt challenge this season? Tag me in your post so I can see it and cheer you on!
If you’re still on the fence, let this be your sign. You never know which piece will unlock your style, your story, your spark.

See you in the prompts.

Join These Art Prompt Challenges

• Botanicals & Beasties 2025 — Hosted by:

  • @jillian.nichole.illustration

  • @heathernuellerdesign

  • @katie_oshea_design

  • @kim_ko_design

  • @megpieprint

  • @amylizzi.art

  • @lack.studio

  • @care2c Instagram

• Spelltember 2025 — Hosted by:

  • @tinyleafpress

  • @jillian.nichole.illustration

• Scary & Sweet 2025 — Coming soon; hosted by:

  • @roymeister

  • @jenprocreates

  • @heyalissandra

  • @jessmillerdraws

  • @heathernuellerdesign

Took Me 5 Months to Post This—Here’s Why I’m Not Hiding Anymore

You know that feeling when you create something, feel wildly proud of it, and then… just… don’t share it?
That was me—with my “Work With Me” post.

I designed the whole carousel back in March—color-matched to my brand, featuring artwork I was proud of, and infused with the quiet hope that someone might see it and say, “Yes, I want to work with you.”

But I didn’t post it. Not for 5 months.

The Inner Critic Gets Loud When You Get Brave

At the time, I remember seeing artists I admired pinning their "Work With Me" posts to the top of their profiles—owning their space and offering their talents confidently. I wanted that, too. And for a moment, I believed I could.

But then... the spiral.
Thoughts like:

• “I don’t have a defined style yet.”

• “I should’ve done this years ago.”

• “I’m not ready.”
  All of it hit, just as I was starting to feel creatively unsure in other areas, too.

What Changed?

I broke the loop.

In recent weeks, I’ve been coming back to center—by making art just for me again. By following the thread of inspiration (hi, Snail Kisses) and letting go of needing every painting to be part of a “plan.”
I even started moving my body more—because I kept hearing this whisper:
“Move your body to move your mind.”

And it worked. The fog lifted. I remembered that I know how to do this.
I remembered that I love doing this.

I Wasn’t Afraid of Posting—

I Was Afraid of Being Seen.

There’s this version of myself that’s always felt like the little kid who wants to sit at the big kids’ table.
I’ve longed to be seen as a real artist. A professional. Someone who gets hired.

So I kept telling myself, “Not yet.”
But yet never comes unless you show up anyway.

So I Posted It.

And guess what?
Nothing exploded.
Nobody pointed fingers or laughed.

People liked it.
And more importantly—I liked it.
I felt proud.
Not because it was perfect, but because it was true.

I’m not hiding anymore.

Confusion was a choice I was making.

The truth is I already know who I am becoming , because I have witnessed her every time I visualize my desired outcome.

Why It Matters Now

Because I want people to know this is what I do.
This is not a hobby—this is the work of my heart, my craft, and my calling.
I want to bring your ideas to life—on fabric, in story, on packaging, through prints.

And this is just the beginning.
I’m open to commissions, licensing, collaborations—and everything I dream of is built on this foundation: showing up.

For the Artist Who's Still Waiting

If you’re sitting on something because it doesn’t feel like “the right time,”
This is your sign: Your art isn’t waiting—your fear is.

When we chase perfection, we abandon our power.
Confidence doesn't arrive first—it follows action.

You already have what you need.
You already are who you’re becoming.

What’s lighting you up right now?

Create from that place and trust that it will take you exactly where you want to go.

Let’s Journey Together

I’m sharing the full behind-the-scenes of my creative process, new art collections, and what happens next over on Patreon.
If you want to witness this creative chapter unfold in real time—and support the art that moves you—I’d love to welcome you there.

Have you had a moment like this?
Something you made but were scared to share?
Tag me on Instagram @starthistle.and.quartz and let’s talk about it.

Free Resource for Artists:
Get my Sketchbook Warm-Up Guide to reconnect with your creative flow—plus, inside you’ll find access to my free 365 Art & Soul Journal.

Your Sketchbook Is Sacred

How I use mine to grow as an artist—and how you can too

The Beginning (and Beginning Again)

I’ve had sketchbooks my entire life—some from when I was just a kid, filled with dreamscapes and messy lines and sparkles of imagination. But you know what I didn’t have? A finished one.

That changed in 2019 when I made the quiet but powerful decision to finally fill one cover to cover. It didn’t need to be beautiful. It just needed to be mine. That choice changed everything.

Since then, I’ve filled over 12 sketchbooks—and counting. I currently have five or six more in progress, and an ever-growing stack of brand new ones just waiting to be cracked open. These books are now my most trusted creative companions.

Different Books, Different Stories

Along the way, I realized one sketchbook simply isn’t enough for how I work—and that’s a good thing.

Each of my sketchbooks has a different purpose:

• One for gouache-only exploration

• One for my 100 Faces Challenge

• A “messy sketchbook” for warm-ups and thumbnails

• A sketchbook where I try techniques I’ve never used before

• Another dedicated to portfolio-driven work

• One that holds all my color palettes and art supply testing

What determines which sketchbook gets what? Usually... the paper. If it’s high quality, I save it for my “good stuff.” If it’s thinner or finicky, it becomes a place of total freedom—no pressure to be perfect.

Sketchbooks Are Practice (Not Performance)

My 2019 Sketchbook that started it all!

I used to cringe when I would see all the flaws (like how that one eye is just a. tad too low and overlapping the nose)- now I admire myself for having the guts to try and really invest time in this piece. She is the foundation from which I am growing. I couldn’t be more thankful for this page.

The best part of sketchbook practice? You don’t have to perform.

It’s a place to get messy, to make something weird, to get it wrong. It’s where I’ve developed:

• My personal color preferences

• Confidence in line weight and restraint

• A deep love for mixed media

• Pieces that eventually made it into my professional portfolio

And most of all, it’s where I’ve learned to keep going—even when the art doesn’t turn out. Even when the perfectionism kicks in. Even when I want to abandon it all.

In fact, that’s why I keep multiple sketchbooks at once—so when one doesn’t feel good to return to, I can just pivot. But I always come back.

My Sketchbook Rituals

These days, I often sketch in the evenings at my dining room table. Sometimes I’m building out a pattern for a challenge, sometimes I’m just moving my hand to see what comes. I’ve started keeping a mini sketchbook with me too, trying to train myself to be more of an “on-the-go” artist—still a work in progress!

My go-to materials include:

• Chalk pastel pencils with erasers (the best for base sketches)

• Micron fine liners

• Caran d’Ache Neocolors

• Angora opaque colors (gorgeous transparency)

• Derwent Graphitint paints

• And a healthy rotation of gouache + watercolor for layering

I consider myself a mixed media illustrator—I love combining materials to chase a feeling or texture or energy. The sketchbook is where I experiment before committing to a bigger piece.

Ready to Start or Refresh Your Sketchbook Practice?

I made a free gift to help you do just that:
🎨 Download my Sketchbook Warm-Ups Guide
It includes five of my favorite rituals for loosening up, reconnecting with your creativity, and finding your artistic rhythm again. There’s no opt-in required—just click and download.

✨And if you love it and want even more inspiration, you’ll also find a link inside the guide to access my Art + Soul Journal: 365 days of creative prompts for artists, dreamers, and soul-seekers. It’s my gift to you when you join my mailing list.

Want to See My Current Sketchbooks?

I’m sharing the behind-the-scenes of my sketchbook practice—what I’m learning, trying, and experimenting with—over on Patreon.

Come see:

• What’s in my messy sketchbook this week

• How I’m developing portfolio pieces

• Tips on organizing multiple sketchbooks

• Answers to your questions about materials or methods

Whether you’re here for encouragement, ideas, or just to see how the artistic sausage gets made—I'd love to have you there.

💬 Let’s Talk Sketchbooks

Have you ever filled a sketchbook from cover to cover? Are you in the middle of one right now? Tell me about your sketchbook journey—and tag me on Instagram @starthistle.and.quartz if you try the warm-ups. I’ll be cheering you on.

You’re more ready than you think. You already have what you need.
Now… make a mark.

From Snail Kisses to Art Sparks: Moving My Body Moved My Creativity

Because sometimes a barefoot walk and a good kiss are the only creative rituals you need.

The Fog, the Feet, and the First Clarity in Weeks

Lately, I’ve been in a season of heavy thinking. My art brain has been spinning—trying to decide between different paths, different mediums, different focuses. Should I go deeper into story-driven character work or pursue surface design and patterns more seriously?

No clear answer was presenting itself. And the more I thought about it, the harder it became to sit down and make anything at all. I wasn’t blocked, exactly—I was in overdrive. Over-analyzing. Over-critiquing. Overwhelmed.

So I did the simplest thing I could think of:
I took off my shoes and walked outside.

There wasn’t time for a long walk that day, so I just wandered around the backyard barefoot. Feeling the grass. Noticing the sunlight. Letting my breath move slowly in and out. I wasn’t trying to fix anything. I just wanted to move.

And then… ideas started coming. Fast.

Art (and Snails) Begin With Sensation

One of the more magical moments of the past week happened while I was kissing my husband. (Stick with me here—this is going somewhere tender and hilarious.)

We were having a romantic moment, and as we kissed, my mind suddenly filled with the image of blue trumpet vine flowers. (Apparently, visual downloads during intimate moments aren’t common, but I’ve always experienced that—maybe it’s a kind of creative synesthesia?)

Then, at one particularly surprising moment, a snail popped up in my inner vision and said, “Hi.”

I burst out laughing. The timing was too perfect, the image too clear. When I told my husband what I saw, he said, “You need to paint that.”

And so I did.

That spontaneous image became the beginning of a mini-series I’m now working on: a watercolor love story between two whimsical snails. Nature, love, humor, and magic—all rolled into one dreamy, ridiculous origin story.

When the Art Gets Softer, So Do I

There’s something poetic about the fact that this painting came from my body, not my mind. It didn’t start in strategy or planning or problem-solving. It came from sensation. From joy. From being present.

That one barefoot walk shifted something. I’ve returned to that practice over and over this week—walking in the grass, breathing, not thinking, just feeling. And my creative flow has returned, not with a bang, but with a gentle, steady trickle of new ideas, sketches, and beginnings.

I’ve even noticed that my art is softening.
More restraint.
Less overworking.
More intuitive layout.
Less “prove-it” energy.

It’s a subtle but powerful shift. I feel like I’m entering a phase where my natural ability and my trained skill are finally merging.

And that… feels like art becoming a second language.

The First Collection for Starthistle & Quartz 🌿

This little snail painting, born from a laugh and a kiss, is officially the first piece of what will become my first official Starthistle & Quartz collection.

It’s not finished yet—I’ve only completed one painting and I’m working on the second—but it feels alive. And that’s all I need.

The originals will be available on Saatchi Art later this fall, and I may offer prints to my Patreon members first (depending on interest). If this series continues to grow, I can imagine stickers, patterns, maybe even a little zine or illustrated story.

A powerful reminder

Sometimes our best intentions keep us stuck, this is a little reminder of how to get things moving again.

Free Poster Download: “Move Your Body to Move Your Mind”

This week reminded me how powerful it is to reconnect with your body. To move the energy before trying to move the art.

So I created something for you.

A dreamy, collage-style art poster you can print and hang by your desk or sketchbook, to remind you:

✨ Move your body to move your mind.

➡️ [Download the free poster by joining my mailing list here.]

This is a gift from me to you—a small nudge toward creative flow, grounded presence, and trust in your inner rhythm.

Want to See This Collection Evolve in Real Time?

I’ll be sharing:

• Snippets of the snail love story as it develops

• Process videos and character sketches

• Behind-the-scenes of my painting practice

All exclusively on Patreon.

➡️ Join me on Patreon here.
Tag me with your thoughts: @starthistle.and.quartz
Use the hashtag: #StarthistleAndQuartz

Final Thought: You Don’t Have to Force Inspiration

You just have to move.
Breathe.
Feel.
Let the world touch you.

The rest will come.

Making Art in the Middle: Why You’re Not Behind

My Patreon offer for July features design elements from my pattern named “Celestial Bodies”.

There’s something tender and oddly magical about the “middle” of any creative journey.

It’s the space where you’ve grown enough to know what you don’t want to make… but still feel unsure about what’s next. Where your skills have sharpened—but your confidence hasn’t quite caught up. Where you keep showing up, even when no clear path is presenting itself.

Right now, I’m there.

I’ve been asking myself whether I should focus on surface design or dive deeper into story-driven, character-based art. The truth is… I love both. But the uncertainty has been enough to make me want to close my iPad and go read a book instead. (And trust me, I’ve been tempted.)

But I keep showing up.
Not to be productive.
Not to build a brand.
But because I never want overwhelm or indecision to block my connection to creativity.

Progress You Can’t Always See

Sometimes growth isn’t flashy—it’s quiet.
It looks like being more consistent than last month.
It looks like staying kind to yourself even when your direction feels blurry.
It looks like opening a sketchbook when you’d rather not, and making something anyway.

“Celestial Bodies”

Here’s my original pattern, imaged on a notebook (I want that!)

This month I completed a new pattern called Celestial Bodies, and even though I was in the middle of my own fog, I sawthe growth.
More confident shapes.
Smoother lines.
Faster execution.
More restraint, more refinement.

Growth was happening the whole time—I just couldn’t see it until I looked back.

If You’re In the Middle Too…

Let me say this clearly:

You are not behind. You are in motion.
Just because you can’t see the destination doesn’t mean you’re lost.

Keep creating what lights you up. That’s how you find your voice.
Keep showing up. That’s how your eye sharpens.
Keep listening to your heart. That’s how your path unfolds.

You are further along than it feels.

Sneak Peek: July’s Patreon Print

This July’s Patreon exclusive features my newest pattern, Celestial Bodies—a softly luminous line-art piece inspired by cosmic simplicity and elegant restraint.

I’ll be sharing more behind-the-scenes from my design process and how this piece marks a shift in my creative growth.

Come be part of the journey on Patreon:
👉 patreon.com/starthistle

Use hashtag #ArtAndSoulSQ and tag me @starthistle.and.quartz to let me know you’re walking the middle path too. I’d love to cheer you on.

When Less Is More: Quiet Wins in My Art Practice

One of my latest pattern designs, featuring the simplicity that confidence brings. (Mockup by Michael Gorelick Designs)

There’s a certain kind of progress that doesn’t come with fanfare or gold stars.

It shows up in the quiet moments—when you realize, mid-design, that you don’t need to add more. When you recognize that restraint is just as powerful as intricacy. When you stop before the piece is overworked, and smile, because your eye has grown sharper, steadier, more confident.

That’s the kind of growth I’m experiencing right now in my art practice.

Lately, I’ve been working on building out my portfolio—focusing on more seasonal patterns and story-driven character designs. It’s stretched me, in a good way. Historically, I’ve leaned toward peaceful, atmospheric scenes (and I still love those), but now I’m experimenting with pieces that hint at deeper narratives, like they’ve been pulled from a picture book or a folklore tale.

One of my recent quiet wins came while designing a seashell pattern for a challenge. I sketched by hand, moved it into Procreate, refined the line work, and paused. Usually, that’s the point where I begin painting and adding texture. But this time? I looked at the piece and saw that it didn’t need more.

I even tested my theory by layering extra elements—but the original, simpler version held more elegance and clarity.

Seeing my new pattern on mockups is always so exciting!

It feels so real now!

That moment gave me so much confidence.

It told me I’m growing—not just in technique (though I’ve been working on things like line weight and digital texture) but in discernment. My eye is becoming more refined. And honestly, that feels like a kind of magic. ✨

Now I’ve created several variations of that shell pattern in different colorways, and they each carry their own little mood and story. It’s the kind of flexibility I love as a designer, and a practice I’m excited to continue refining.

Over on Patreon, I’ve been sharing sneak peeks of this shell series, along with behind-the-scenes thoughts, struggles, and “aha!” moments as I shape my portfolio. It’s incredibly meaningful to know there’s a community cheering me on, and even more meaningful to think that sharing these moments might help another artist skip a few stuck places.

If you’re in a season of invisible growth—where your progress doesn’t yet show up on paper—I want to remind you: your eye is sharpening too. Your taste is refining. And sometimes, restraint is the most powerful move you can make.

💫 Want to join me behind the scenes?

My Patreon is where I share my artistic process in real-time—designs, patterns, character work, and honest thoughts from the journey. You can also vote on upcoming ideas and help shape my next moves.

→ Join here
→ Share your own quiet wins with me on IG: @starthistle.and.quartz
→ Use the hashtag #SQStudioNotes so I can cheer you on, too 💌

Navigating the Creative Plateau: When Growth Feels Invisible

A visual representation of my thoughts at this time.

Spoiler alert: I’m in it right now.

You know that weird, foggy place where everything feels kind of stuck and uncertain—but you’re still showing up? That’s where I’ve been. The creative plateau. The messy middle. That space where your art doesn’t look bad, but it also doesn’t feel like the breakthrough you’ve been working toward. For me, it’s been amplified by perimenopause brain fog (yep, that’s a thing) and energy dips that sometimes make showing up to create feel like hiking through mud.

And the worst part? When growth feels invisible, I start to feel invisible too.

The thoughts creep in—“Maybe I’m not good at this.” “What if I picked the wrong path?” And that inner critic? It suddenly has a megaphone. But here’s what I’ve realized: those thoughts don’t come from my higher self. They’re not the truth. They’re fear wearing the costume of logic.

What’s Really Happening on the Plateau

In these moments, I’m learning to lean into something softer: somatic work, meditation, EFT tapping—anything that brings me back to my body and quiets the mental spiral. And slowly, I begin to notice things I hadn’t before:

• My style is becoming more defined.

• I’m consistent.

• My desire to create hasn’t left me.

These are wins. Quiet ones, maybe—but they count.

The Messy Middle Is Sacred

I remind myself often: you wouldn’t panic if your cake still looked like batter—you’d trust the process. So why don’t we trust that in ourselves? What if we’re simply in the messy middle of our own becoming? Not broken. Not behind. Just not done baking yet.

A Soft Anchor for You

If you’re in this space too, I hope you’ll borrow a mantra that’s been helping me:

“I already have it. The answers are within. Just be still and listen.”

Say it when you feel overwhelmed. Say it when you want to chase every shiny idea. Say it when you want to quit.

You’re Not Alone (Really, You’re Not)

If you’re navigating a plateau or wondering if you’ll ever “get there,” I hope you know this: your creative journey is still moving, even when it feels like it’s standing still.

🌿 Tag me on Instagram (@starthistle.and.quartz) and share your story. Use the hashtag #StarthistleInBloom so we can hold space for each other through this season.

You are not alone in this slow stretch. You’re just in the middle of the magic.

Clearing Clutter, Clearing Mind: My Art Supply Declutter Guide

What I want my “studio” space to feel like.

From Creative Chaos to Clarity

My relationship with art supplies has always been enthusiastic—perhaps too enthusiastic. There was a time not long ago when my studio shelves overflowed with paints, brushes, sketchbooks, and materials from endless phases of exploration. Back then, trying out every medium or new technique was part of the joy of discovery. But recently, I’ve entered a new season of clarity. I know what I love to work with, and I’m ready for simplicity.

Decluttering my art space was a gentle but powerful shift. I discovered that clearing physical clutter was not only practical but also deeply emotional—it gave me a sense of certainty, like finally committing to choices that truly felt right.

How Clutter Clouds Creativity

One sneaky form of procrastination for me is cleaning when I’m intimidated by a creative task. I find myself drawn to tidying rather than facing a blank page. You might know the feeling: "Messy bed, messy head." A cluttered art space works the same way—when I see stacks of supplies spilling over, it clutters my mind too, blocking clear thinking and stalling inspiration.

Recognizing this pattern was key to understanding my creative blocks. The more overwhelmed I felt by physical clutter, the harder it became to access my creative flow.

Make it stand out

A real-life look at the tower of books and canvases that still need organizing.

My Decluttering Process: Tackling the Shelves

When decluttering feels overwhelming, I always start small—often just one chaotic shelf. My shelves tend to become organized piles of disorganization. Sketchbooks blend into watercolor sets, paintbrushes hide under tubes of gouache, and inspiration becomes lost among clutter.

My approach is simple but effective:

• I pick one pile (watercolors, sketchbooks, brushes) at a time.

• I ask myself honestly: Do I use this? Does it spark joy?

• I organize according to how often I reach for each item: favorite brushes in a special cup, beloved paints easily accessible in labeled boxes.

Each decluttering session feels a little like Christmas morning—rediscovering forgotten treasures and sparking fresh ideas.

The Emotional Side of Decluttering

But let's be real—decluttering isn’t just logistical; it’s deeply emotional. I've had to navigate feelings of attachment to past projects, guilt about barely-used materials, and worry over letting go of supplies I might need someday. These are natural, human reactions, especially when our art supplies represent our dreams and aspirations.

When these emotions surface, I remind myself that creativity thrives in simplicity and openness—not in scarcity or clutter. And once I make peace with letting go, I always feel lighter and more energized, proud of myself for choosing clarity over excess.

Organizing with Joy: My Favorite Tools

I have a secret (not-so-secret) love for organizing bins and containers. When I lived in New York, the flagship Container Store was my happy place—wandering aisles, dreaming of tidy spaces. Now I use small organizational carts and caddies to keep my favorite tools ready to go, so I can start creating without distractions. This small ritual gives me a sense of calm control amidst life’s daily overwhelm.

Maintaining the Clarity: A Daily Ritual

To maintain my newly decluttered space, I keep a rolling cart with my essential supplies close at hand, and a portable caddy filled with daily favorites. This setup means I can ignore the excess, reach for my favorites quickly, and avoid clutter build-up. It’s my small daily promise to myself, reinforcing clarity and certainty.

The Struggle is Real—and That’s Okay

Honestly, tidying my art space often feels like a luxury. With a busy life, family responsibilities, and multiple projects always in motion, even a small decluttering session can feel overwhelming. It’s a constant balance. But I’ve learned to honor my limits—if the clutter feels manageable, I sometimes choose rest, meditation, or family movie time instead. I’ve learned it’s okay to choose self-care over perfection.

Your Clutter, Your Journey

If you’re feeling overwhelmed by your cluttered art space, please know you’re not alone. Decluttering is a gentle journey—one that comes with emotional layers, personal insights, and small victories. Be patient with yourself. Celebrate tiny steps. Remember that simplicity brings clarity, and clarity brings peace.

I’d love to hear about your decluttering journey. Share your tidy space or favorite organizational tip and tag me on Instagram @starthistle.and.quartz using #ArtAndSoulSQ. Let’s support each other in finding simplicity, creativity, and joy in the beautiful mess.

A Day in My Life: Art, Family & Business in Harmony

A peek at my sketchbook from 2019 that I found my daughter browsing through.

Slow Mornings and Snuggled Beginnings

I wake up slowly—reflective, quiet, still processing dreams and feelings from the night. Mornings, for me, aren’t about rushing into productivity. They're a soft space where my body and mind slowly align for the day.

My favorite part is the small, gentle ritual my husband and I share. Each morning we prepare our “coffee” (it's actually Dandy Blend, a delicious dandelion root drink), mixed Bulletproof style, and snuggle together in bed. In those cozy moments, we talk about everything or nothing at all. It grounds us, connecting us before the day pulls our attention in a hundred different directions.

The Art of Flexible Balance

As a creative entrepreneur and mom, I’ve learned that the key to productivity is batching my tasks. Sundays are social media prep days; Fridays I plan out my following week. This method lets me breathe—it provides structure, but with flexible windows throughout the day for family and creativity.

Evenings are sacred. After dinner, I clear the table and make space for my favorite time: art. I light candles, put on music or an inspiring podcast, and sip my magnesium hot chocolate. Some nights, I dive into my ongoing 100 Faces Challenge (I’m at face 56!), other nights I study new techniques—right now, it's atmospheric lighting. My sketchbook, always nearby, captures all these moments of learning, growth, joy, and even frustration. It’s the one tool that never fails to bring me joy and remind me how far I’ve come.

Motherhood and the Art of Managing Guilt

If I'm honest, balancing motherhood and entrepreneurship sometimes feels impossible. When I'm working, I worry about being absent from my kids' day. When I'm fully engaged with my children, I wonder if I'm neglecting my dream of building a successful, sustainable art business.

To bridge these two important worlds, I began a family ritual years ago: art time together. Ever since my kids could hold a crayon, we’ve gathered around the dining room table to draw, create, listen to music, and laugh. Now, at 10 and 14, my children have their own beautiful artistic voices. They make cards and stickers for friends, enter school art competitions, and share their unique perspectives through creativity.

In those tender, silly, messy moments, I feel whole—reminded that art and family aren’t separate worlds, but beautifully interwoven threads of my life.

Vulnerability & Truth: Waiting for Bloom

I won't pretend that this path is easy. I often find myself impatient, frustrated by the slow bloom of progress. Working from home as an entrepreneur, without the stability of a traditional job, brings a unique kind of pressure. It can feel as though everything must work immediately—for myself, and especially for my children.

Yet, in these stressful moments, I ground myself. I breathe, regulate my nervous system, and remind myself of the simple truth: success is about consistency. If I keep showing up to water the seeds, eventually they bloom.

The Little Moments That Matter Most

Every Saturday morning, my family cleans the house together. A few weeks ago, I caught my daughter dusting slowly, gently turning through pages of my completed sketchbooks—over fifteen of them since 2019. She was quietly taking it all in, and my heart filled with warmth. In that moment, the hustle and impatience melted away. This small act of connection gave me hope, reminding me why I do this work. Art isn’t just about the final product; it’s about sharing our stories and inspiring those we love.

Closing the Day: Calm, Safe, and Ready for Tomorrow

At night, I wrap up my art practice gently. I tidy my table, finish my cocoa, and transition into a relaxing evening ritual—dry brushing, a salt bath, skincare, and soft music. I make sure my body feels safe, regulated, and ready for restful sleep. I know tomorrow will bring its own challenges, but also new opportunities for growth, creativity, and connection.

Your Story Matters, Too

I share this day-in-the-life not because my life is perfect, but precisely because it’s beautifully imperfect, just like yours. If you’re balancing family, art, business, or simply your own dreams, know this: your story is valid, your efforts matter, and slow growth is still growth.

I’d love to hear about your daily rituals and the little moments that make your day meaningful. Tag me on Instagram @starthistle.and.quartz and use the hashtag #ArtAndSoulSQ so we can share these authentic moments together.

Let's inspire each other one gentle, genuine day at a time. ✨

Embracing the “In-Between”

Reimagining my “Luminous Moth” piece as a potent potion.

Right now, I’m standing at a creative crossroads. As I sketch out ideas for my upcoming mythical creatures project, I find myself caught between two distinct and beautiful paths: Should I lean into a whimsical, children's book style filled with intricate details and hidden stories—or embrace a more chic, minimal, and editorial aesthetic?

Each style speaks to a different part of my soul:

• The whimsical style lets me build a world overflowing with imagination, details, and playful surprises, the kind of art I cherished as a child.

• The chic style feels elegant and timeless, seamlessly becoming part of daily life as beautiful décor or thoughtfully designed items that I’d love to gift and display proudly in my own home.

Neither direction feels wrong, yet choosing feels deeply necessary.

Artistic FOMO is Real (and That's Okay)

I experience creative FOMO (fear of missing out) constantly. I often see myself as a hummingbird artist, flitting from idea to idea, rather than the whale artist I long to become—one who dives deep into a single creative ocean, exploring its hidden depths.

But the truth I’m discovering is this: indecision isn’t something to fear. It's a signal, an invitation to pay closer attention.

Recently, my indecision has taught me a powerful lesson: what often appears as confusion is really just a gentle reminder that I haven’t fully committed yet. The idea of commitment used to scare me because it felt like closing doors. But now I realize it’s not about limitation—it’s about permission to explore one beautiful path fully, until it no longer feels aligned.

The Gift of “What If” Sketches and Technique Exploration

During moments of deep indecision, I shift my focus to technique. Instead of forcing a choice, I allow myself the joy of simply learning. Currently, I’m practicing atmospheric lighting, experimenting with depth, shadows, and colors. This approach calms my mind, keeps my skills growing, and helps me clarify what truly excites me.

I also do playful "what if" sketches—small, pressure-free explorations that remind me creativity is about joy, not judgment.

The Power of Daily Commitment (and a Gentle Mantra)

I’ve made a simple promise to myself: to create art daily. Not every piece must fit a collection or feel significant. Some days, art-making means working through my personal “100 Faces Challenge” (I’m currently on face 53!). Other days, it’s a sketchbook page of loose, whimsical doodles, or a chic, minimal abstract exploration.

The secret to navigating indecision is gentle consistency paired with self-compassion. My personal mantra has become:

“I already know, because I have already chosen—and now I commit to my choice.”

This affirmation shifts my mind from confusion to clarity, and my heart from anxiety to bravery.

Your Turn: Clarifying Questions to Move Forward

If you’re feeling stuck between ideas or styles, I encourage you to journal or sketch using these gentle questions as a guide:

• What does my perfectionism want?

• What does my head want?

• What does my heart want?

• What would bring me the most joy in making art right now?

Give yourself permission to explore openly and without judgment. Trust your intuition—it knows more than you realize.

Let’s Share Our Journeys

I'd love to hear how you’re navigating your own artistic indecision. Share your "what if" sketches or creative reflections by tagging me on Instagram @starthistle.and.quartz and use our special hashtag #ArtAndSoulSQ.

Together, let’s turn indecision into a beautiful space of exploration, empowerment, and joyful clarity.

When One Chapter Ends, a New Adventure Begins

My assistant. Mia,. hard at work doing some critical research for me.

Ten years ago, I launched my very first online shop on Society6, selling whimsical designs like my beloved Baby Zodiac prints. It was an exciting and formative chapter. Then recently, Society6 changed course, closing my shop and leaving me wondering, “Now what?”

At first, it felt like a rejection—like somehow, I hadn’t made the cut. But after some reflection (and journaling—a LOT of journaling), a new thought emerged: maybe this was actually a redirection. I decided that my success wouldn’t be determined by a platform; it would be determined by me. And with that, the seed of my next adventure—my own shop, under the name Starthistle & Quartz—began to bloom.

Why Nordic Folklore?

I’ve always felt a deep pull toward my Scandinavian heritage. The rich stories, magical landscapes, and mythical creatures from those northern lands enchant me. I grew up loving Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales, and recently, I fell completely in love with the graphic novel and TV series “Hilda,” filled with whimsical deer foxes, trolls, and gentle giants.

Inspired by these tales, my sketchbook is filling up with early explorations: enchanting forests, rune carvings on ancient stones, and mysterious underground pools lit by glowing crystals. The creatures I’m sketching are still evolving—sometimes they're cute and cuddly; other times they're long, graceful, and elegant.

I keep asking myself: Do they all share the same magical world, or does each creature have its own hidden realm? This question keeps me happily awake at night.

Choosing a Palette: Cozy Warmth or Frosty Elegance?

I'm currently caught between two equally beautiful paths. Do I lean into cozy warmth—filled with rich forest greens, warm earth tones, and splashes of sunlit yellows—or do I create something with more frosty elegance, invoking misty greys, shimmering blues, and touches of icy silver?

One thing’s clear: I'm obsessed with Holbein’s Shire Green, and it will definitely play a starring role, no matter which path I choose. I'm exploring pops of bright colors too, wondering if a touch of whimsy might make my art stand out among traditionally moody, mythical artwork.

From Sketchbook to Sticker or Mug?

Thinking ahead, I can already imagine my mythical creatures on stickers (because stickers are irresistible), but what excites me even more is the idea of someone sipping morning coffee from a mug adorned with these creatures. Imagine starting your day with a little sprinkle of magic, whimsy, and beauty.

The Interactive Journey Ahead

Here’s where things get exciting—my plan is to launch my first collection this fall, hopefully by October. But before I get there, I want your help! I'll be sharing sneak peeks on Patreon and asking my community to help name characters, choose color palettes, and vote on designs.

This collection won’t just be mine—it’ll be ours. It’s an invitation to collaborate, play, and dream together.

Come Along on the Adventure!

If you'd love to be part of this journey, you can follow along on my Patreon, where you'll get behind-the-scenes glimpses and special early access. I’ll be sharing every step of the process—from early sketches to final designs. Let's create something magical together.

👉 Join me on Patreon here.

Here's to new beginnings, authentic creations, and the magic of building dreams together. ✨

How I Create Art Even on the Hardest Days

The realness of my workspace- potato dog included.

Finding the Courage to Show Up

Some nights, I sit at my dining-room-table studio feeling completely off my game. Last evening was one of those nights. After a day juggling work calls, family logistics, and an achy injury from yesterday’s workout, I opened my tutorial on character drawing… only to have my dog sketch emerge looking like a sad, unrecognizable potato (and not the cute kind). My color choices were off too—something I usually nail.

So close, and yet so far away…

I mean, he’s got POTATencial- get it? 🤦🏼‍♀️

In that moment, the perfectionism, comparison, and overwhelm all ganged up on me. My inner critic whispered, “Why even try? You’re not good enough.” Yet I didn’t want to let a bad drawing derail my “always forward momentum” mindset. So I reminded myself of an important truth:

Progress isn’t linear—and showing up is its own victory.

Identifying the Resistance

We all face this trio of creative roadblocks:

• Perfectionism: The urge to make every line flawless.

• Comparison: Scrolling feeds, seeing others’ highlight reels.

• Overwhelm: Too many demands—from the world and from ourselves.

That night, my perfectionism flared: I wanted each sketch to prove I was leveling up. Comparison popped up as I remembered other artists’ polished dog portraits. And overwhelm settled in when my hand throbbed from yesterday’s workout. Recognizing these feelings as they arose was the first step toward moving through them.

Three Micro-Steps to Break Through

Whenever the resistance strikes, I lean on tiny actions that build momentum:

1. Set a 5-Minute Timer with One Tool
I grab my “ugly” sketchbook—a no-judgment zone where I can scribble freely—and set a simple timer on my phone for five minutes. This unglamorous sketchbook is my secret weapon: I can’t worry about perfection when I’m just warming up. Listening to a short YouTube video or podcast helps me doodle without overthinking.

2. Use a “Permission Sticker”
I plan to design a sticker that reads:

“You have permission to be right where you are. This moment is already a good one.”
For now, I write that phrase on a sticky note and place it on my sketchbook cover. That visual cue is like a gentle pat on the back—permission to play, fail, and experiment.

3. Celebrate Any Mark
That first swirl or scribble counts. After I make my initial big loop or quick doodle, I smile, take a breath, and say, “I’m here. I showed up.” Sometimes I even snap a quick photo to remind myself later that progress is the goal, not perfection.

A Night of Tiny Triumphs

Last night, applying these steps changed everything. With my timer ticking, I scribbled loose swirls across the page—no pressure to “draw a dog.” I let my hand find its rhythm. The permission note reminded me to embrace the process. By the time the timer buzzed, my wrist felt warmed up and my spirit lifted.

I followed up by pulling prompt #103 from my 365 Art & Soul Journal:

“If the word inspiration were a color, what color would it be? Draw something inspired by that color.”

That prompt whisked me out of my critical headspace. I chose a bright aqua—my lifelong favorite—and painted a quick abstract watercolor splash. It wasn’t a dog, but it was mine. And it reminded me that creativity thrives when we loosen our grip.

Your Daily Permission to Play

If you ever feel stuck on the hamster wheel of self-doubt, give yourself these micro-steps. And if you’d like a year’s worth of gentle prompts to spark your practice, grab your free 365 Art & Soul Journal with Prompts. It’s my daily permission slip to play—one prompt, one page, one tiny triumph at a time.

Keep showing up. Your next best idea is waiting on the other side of that first mark. ✨

Behind the Art: June’s Sardine Summer Flat-Lay Design

Imagining this as a piece of wall art is chef’s kiss!

When a trend feels everywhere, how do you make it truly your own? This June on Patreon, I tackled the vintage sardine-tin craze—and reimagined it as a chic, pastel-toned summer picnic scene. Here’s how it unfolded.

Inspiration: From Sardine Tins to Summer Picnics

I’ve always adored the whimsical charm of retro sardine packaging, but I wanted something that felt unmistakably Starthistle & Quartz:

• A pastel flat-lay evoking seaside picnics

• My signature palette of blush coral, aqua, vermillion, shell pink, and pops of fluorescent yellow

• Imagery of lemons, bread, and a glass of rosé laid out as if on a sunlit terrace

I rewatched Pixar’s Luca, dreamed of the Amalfi Coast, and let those joyful, sun-washed hues guide me.

Sketches & Moodboard: Finding My Voice

After sharing my initial sketches and moodboard last week, I dove into Procreate using watercolor and gouache brushes. Early attempts felt too “safe”—they mimicked what I saw online rather than reflecting my own style. My challenge was clear: avoid imitation, honor inspiration.

Overcoming Comparison & Limitation

Comparison reared its head big time. I worried my design wouldn’t stand out among the countless bright sardine tins. But then I remembered:

“Limitation is magic.”

By focusing on the feeling—“chic,” “soothing,” “summery”—I unlocked new ideas. Instead of painting fish in a tin, I arranged them on plate-like shapes, surrounded them with picnic elements, and let my favorite palette shine.

The Moment It Clicked

The breakthrough came when I sketched a simple flat-lay: three sardines on a pastel plate, lemon wedges at the rim, a linen napkin draped nearby. Paired with my fluorescent-yellow accents and a swirl of aqua, it finally felt original and elegant—a scene you could hang on a gallery wall or use as a chic postcard.

What’s Next: Exclusive Access on Patreon

This design is now on its way to becoming your June Patreon postcard + sticker—a monthly keepsake delivered straight to your mailbox. As a Patron, you can be part of magic in a few ways::

• As a Stardust Supporter to keep up-to-date with everything new happening at Starthistle & Quartz

• Or join the monthly sticker tier as a Moonlit Dreamer

• Receive a monthly postcard tier featuring exclusive original art as a Celestial Wanderer

• And to get the full set of sticker + postcard you can become an Ethereal Muse

👉 Join us today for exclusive art, early-bird perks, and a front-row seat to every new collection:
https://patreon.com/starthistle

A Little Invitation

I won’t pretend this was easy—creative blocks and perfectionism almost stopped me. But showing up, experimenting, and trusting my palette turned frustration into possibility. I’d love for you to witness the full journey (and get your hands on the postcard!) over on Patreon.

See you there—and may your summer be as bright and refreshing as a picnic on the Riviera. ☀️