The Power of a Creative Reset: Why I’m Reshaping My Patreon for 2026
I’ve always had a bit of a “jump first, figure it out as I go” pattern in my creative life and that’s definitely been true of my Patreon. I’m the kind of artist who learns by doing, which means that each year I’ve learned something new about what it means to not only make art, but to share it in a way that feels aligned with my values and with my audience.
2025 Sketchbook practice of Mary Blair inspired art.
I’ve always had a bit of a “jump first, figure it out as I go” pattern in my creative life, and that’s definitely been true of my Patreon. I’m the kind of artist who learns by doing, which means that each year I’ve learned something new about what it means to not only make art, but to share it in a way that feels aligned with my values and with my audience.
This year, I’m implementing one of the biggest shifts yet and it’s already starting to feel like a complete energetic upgrade.
A Fresh Approach (and a Beautiful Source of Inspiration)
Recently, I came across an incredible artist on Instagram, @rayleearts , who shared how she structures her Patreon around an annual theme. Each month becomes a new chapter in that theme, and by the end of the year, she’s built a cohesive 12-month body of work. Even more brilliant? She turns those pieces into a calendar, so the story lives on in a tangible form.
This clicked something into place for me.
As much as I’ve loved offering spontaneous rewards, I realized something was missing: cohesion.
A unifying theme. A guiding thread. Something for my patrons to follow along with, and something for me to grow with, too.
What’s Staying (and What’s Changing)
The rewards themselves ( stickers, & postcards) aren’t going anywhere. But in 2026, they’ll all live within a single magical, whimsical, seasonally-aligned theme. I won’t spoil it here (my patrons will hear it first, of course), but I can tell you this: it’s full of charm, storytelling, and wonder.
Even though I’m a little nervous (I’ve never created a full 12-piece collection before) I’m also incredibly excited. I want this to be a year where I build something I’m deeply proud of, piece by piece, with my patrons right there beside me.
More Than a Collection, It’s a Journey
In the past, my offerings were more like a “pick-and-mix” so each month was unique and often unrelated to the last. This new structure creates a much clearer experience for everyone involved. You’ll still be surprised by the details, but the direction will feel beautifully grounded.
If you fall in love with the first piece of the year, you’ll love the journey we’re about to take together.
I’ve learned that people connect to what they can follow. As a creator, I used to focus on novelty like what’s next, what’s different, what haven’t I tried yet? But this year, I want to focus on depth. I want to bring you into the process with me. I want this year to feel like we’re co-travelers through a magical little world, not just visitors passing through.
Want to Join Me?
If you want to be part of this year-long journey and collect each piece as it’s released, join me on Patreon especially before January 31st, 2026. You’ll be the first to know what the new theme is, and you’ll receive limited-edition monthly rewards that won’t be offered anywhere else.
You can also sign up for my Art & Soul mailing list here where I’ll be sharing what happens after each piece debuts on Patreon. (Hint: some of them may take on new life in ways you won’t want to miss.)
This year, I’m not just making art — I’m building a story. And I’d love for you to be part of it.
Building Tinsel Town: How a Christmas Village Helped Me Step into My Style
There’s something magical about creating a world from scratch.
This December, I joined the #TinselTown2025 challenge on Instagram, hosted by a wonderful group of illustrators (listed below), and something clicked. I love drawing and painting brownstones, so the idea of building my own illustrated Christmas village? It was an instant yes.
“Gumdrop Village” by Therese Tucker for the #tinseltown2025 art challenge.
There’s something magical about creating a world from scratch.
This December, I joined the #TinselTown2025 challenge on Instagram, hosted by a wonderful group of illustrators (listed below), and something clicked. I love drawing and painting brownstones, so the idea of building my own illustrated Christmas village? It was an instant yes.
At the start, my only real plan was to fill my village with beautiful brownstones. That was it. No master strategy. Just a desire to follow my joy.
🎨 Inspired by Brooklyn (and a Little Wes Anderson Magic)
My time living near Park Slope in Brooklyn gave me all the nostalgic material I needed: snowy walks with my husband, beautifully lit windows, wreaths on front doors, and the hum of cozy cafes tucked between brownstones. I also pulled color inspiration from The Grand Budapest Hotel (Wes Anderson's genius never fails me). I chose a palette that felt slightly vintage, slightly sweet, and full of charm and I stuck to it all the way through.
Each piece was drawn digitally in Procreate using gouache, ink, and pencil brushes. I gave every building its own personality and a canine companion because every great town deserves dogs. 🐾
📚 My Favorite Building? The Bookstore.
While I loved every part of this piece, the bookstore became my favorite. It was inspired by a real memory — visiting the Barnes & Noble in Union Square ( though this version is purely imagined.) There’s something about the elegant arches, the stone columns, and the woman standing outside holding her packages that feels like me. She’s done shopping... but she’s still looking for the perfect book.
It was hard to choose a favorite…
In the end, the bookstore won my heart from the star ornaments, to the little details of books, pots of ink and presents.
It was little vignettes like that one that ended up surprising me most.
🧠 What I Learned While Building Tinsel Town
I’m better at storytelling than I realized. Creating each building felt like writing a short scene.
My style is getting more cohesive, my linework is more delicate and intentional.
I love working with a limited color palette. It makes decisions easier and results stronger.
I found a workflow that works for me: blocking in shapes before sketching feels natural and satisfying.
I want to start documenting my creative process like a recipe. That’s now on my to-do list.
And even though I didn’t get to paint every building I hoped to (time was tight!), I’m genuinely proud of what came through. Sharing a horizontal panoramic piece on Instagram wasn’t seamless, but the kind response made it all worthwhile.
🧁 What I Hope You Feel When You See Tinsel Town
Whimsical nostalgia. That feeling you get when you watch a Wes Anderson film with everything in its place, gently charming, and a little bit dreamlike.
This village is my love letter to Brooklyn, to winter walks, to festive windows, and to the slow beauty of building something one brick at a time.
🧁 What’s Next + Where to Find More
🎁 Limited Edition Alert!
A print and sticker from my Tinsel Town collection will be available exclusively to my Patreon patrons for December. Join before December 31st and it’s yours too!
🎄 Want to see more of the process?
Follow me on Instagram @starthistle.and.quartz — I shared the buildings in real time over there.
❄️ Special Thanks
A big thank you to the hosts of the #TinselTown2025 challenge for inspiring this magical project:
Walking Two Creative Paths: Storytelling & Surface Design
For the longest time, I thought I had to choose.
Was I going to be a children’s book illustrator—or a surface designer?
I’ve always known that my art had a certain magical, whimsical energy. I’ve worked hard to refine my voice, understand my style, and commit to consistent practice. But even with all that effort, I still felt stuck in one major area: what to focus on.
A closeup peak at “Blissful Bakery” by Therese Tucker for the #TinselTown2025 challenge.
Why I’m Building Two Portfolios Instead of Just One
For the longest time, I thought I had to choose.
Was I going to be a children’s book illustrator, or a surface designer?
I’ve always known that my art had a certain magical, whimsical energy. I’ve worked hard to refine my voice, understand my style, and commit to consistent practice. But even with all that effort, I still felt stuck in one major area: what to focus on.
I saw illustrators creating dreamy picture books and imagined my work bringing characters to life on the page. Then I'd see surface designers turning art into fabric, stationery, and home goods and I felt pulled in that direction, too. I felt a deep love for both paths… and a persistent belief that I could only choose one.
Until one day, I came across a YouTube video by Mel Armstrong.
She said something that cracked everything open for me:
"You can absolutely build both portfolios. You don’t have to choose.”
It was such a simple statement, but it blew my mind. Her words gave me permission to do what my intuition had been telling me all along: that my creativity doesn’t need to be confined to one box. It’s okay to walk both paths and let them inform one another.
A Quick Shout-Out to Mel Armstrong
If you’re not familiar with her work, Mel Armstrong is a children’s book illustrator and surface pattern designer with a truly distinctive style. She’s built a creative business around doing both and I just want to say thank you, Mel, for sharing that insight. It helped me find peace, clarity, and direction in what had felt like an overwhelming fork in the road.
My Dual-Path Art Vision
So here’s what I’m working on now:
Path One: Storytelling Illustration
I’m building a portfolio of work that feels like it belongs in a beautiful picture book with pieces that carry emotion, whimsy, narrative, and heart. These characters often arrive intuitively. Sometimes I dream them. Sometimes they speak before they fully appear. I know that this part of my work is deeply tied to my mission: to create art that opens portals, sparks remembrance, and connects the viewer to something deeper.
Path Two: Surface Design
I’m also building collections of repeat patterns, seasonal illustrations, and motif-driven art that could live beautifully on fabric, stationery, wallpaper, home goods, and giftware. This path feels more grounded and product-oriented, and I find joy in the way it allows me to think in terms of collections, utility, and design.
Rather than seeing this as a conflict of direction, I now see it as a spectrum of creativity: two ways that my art can live in the world. And truthfully, many of the artists I admire most do exactly this: they have both a story-driven and a product-driven side to their art business.
Trusting Intuition to Lead the Way
This shift didn’t come from a perfect business plan.
It came from listening inward. From noticing the projects that felt alive. From trusting that what brings joy to me is likely what will resonate most with others.
I’m no longer trying to shove myself into a neat niche or force clarity from the outside in. I’m following what wants to be expressed and honoring the full spectrum of creative expression that flows through me.
That doesn’t mean I won’t be strategic or intentional. I’m still creating two portfolios. I’m still thinking about markets, formats, and licensing. But I’m doing so with a sense of permission. Giving myself permission to build an art career that reflects the multitudes within me.
For the Creatives Who Can’t Pick One Thing
If you’ve ever felt torn between two creative paths, I want you to know:
You don’t have to choose. You can build both. You can find the threads that connect them.
And you can trust that your unique mix of gifts will lead to something beautiful.
I'm using the Epic Year Workshop (my signature yearly planning experience) to help me bring this dual-path dream into form and if you're curious about building a vision for your own creative future, you’re invited to join me.
You can also follow along on Patreon, where I share behind-the-scenes looks at both portfolios as they unfold.
This is a new season of creative alignment for me—and I'm so excited to walk this path.
Why I Believe My Art Has a Soul Mission
Some art is made to impress. Some to provoke.
Mine is here to connect souls.
For years now, I’ve been aware that my art has a deeper purpose. Not every piece starts with a grand spiritual idea—in fact, many of them begin with a simple sketch, a playful moment, or a color I can’t stop thinking about. But time and time again, when a piece makes its way out into the world, I end up having an experience that reminds me: this art is a vessel for something much bigger than me.
“Ascension to New Earth” fly Therese Tucker rom my 2020 Ascension Collection.
Some art is made to impress. Some to provoke.
Mine is here to connect souls.
For years now, I’ve been aware that my art has a deeper purpose. Not every piece starts with a grand spiritual idea, in fact, many of them begin with a simple sketch, a playful moment, or a color I can’t stop thinking about. But time and time again, when a piece makes its way out into the world, I end up having an experience that reminds me: this art is a vessel for something much bigger than me.
One of the most vivid examples of this was back in 2013, when I released a collection called Oceana. Every painting in that collection carried a channeled message, hidden in a sealed envelope, meant only for the person who would one day own the piece. Those messages weren’t written with marketing in mind. They were direct transmissions from Source energy, and the people who received them were deeply moved. Some said they felt like soul family had spoken directly to them through the painting.
That’s when I really understood:
my art is a bridge between the physical and non-physical.
A portal for remembering. A tool for reawakening something sacred.
What My Art Is Really Here to Do
I believe the deeper mission of my art is to create connection between the viewer and their higher self, between this world and the unseen world, between us and the soul family we may not even know we’re missing.
Sometimes the pieces carry soothing energy.
Sometimes they spark contemplation.
Sometimes they feel like a transmission or a quiet download from beyond the veil.
Whatever the reaction, I hope people feel a sense of grounding, beauty, and divine presence through what I make. Even if I’m just painting a fox or an otter, my hope is that it acts like a tuning fork, helping the viewer shift into a slightly higher frequency.
I Am Not the Source of My Art—I Am the Channel
My process is deeply intuitive. I often feel like I’m just the brush being held by something greater. Characters arrive in dreams. Composition ideas download in meditation. Sometimes I even receive step-by-step tutorials in my dream state, and once, I asked my higher self to rewind and slow down the dream so I could follow along—and it worked.
This co-creative experience is something I trust implicitly now. Even when I don’t understand why I’m painting what I’m painting, I’ve come to learn that it always finds its right home, with the right message, for the right person.
What Others Reflect Back to Me
One of the most beautiful parts of sharing my art is hearing what people see or feel when they experience it. Sometimes they’ll tell me that the colors I used hold spiritual significance for them. Other times, they’ll tell me the piece reminded them of a dream they had or a loved one who passed.
That kind of resonance isn’t logical. It’s energetic.
It’s proof that art can hold frequency.
What Art Has Given Me
For me, art has always been a sacred self-regulating tool. When I make art, it feels like a brain massage and a way to soothe my nervous system, calm the inner critic, and reconnect with what matters most. It’s helped me process grief. It’s helped me feel joy when I thought I had forgotten how.
Art is where my spirit and body come back into alignment.
The Characters That Are Finding Me
Lately, I’ve been drawn to woodland animals as well cats, otters, swans and I know I’m on the edge of discovering a whole new mythical world through them. I don’t think I’m meant to draw creatures that already exist in mythology. I think I’m here to channel new ones. Creatures that feel ancient and familiar, but entirely my own.
That world is starting to populate in the background. I can feel it. It’s coming.
I Believe We Are All Creator Beings
We were made in the image of Source… not just physically, but energetically. That means we were born to create. Whether we make art, gardens, music, meals, or homes, we are vessels for divine expression.
When I remind myself that I am a channel, not the source, I relax. I let go of ego and fear. I open. And from that place, the most meaningful work flows through.
How I Support Other Artists & Dreamers
If you’re reading this and you feel like you have a big dream but can’t quite reach it, or if you feel like something sacred is trying to express through you, but you’re not sure how to begin, I want to invite you into the spaces I’ve created for that exact purpose:
💫 The Starlight Dream Lab — A free tool to help you distill your big soul-aligned dream and receive your North Star.
🪐 Patreon — Follow along with my art journey in real time. See how my mythical world takes shape, and get early access to exclusive prints, stickers, and behind-the-scenes shares.
🌟 Epic Year Express — A self-paced version of my Epic Year Workshop, helping you turn your soul-aligned dream into a practical, step-by-step strategy rooted in your personal frequency.
Final Thought: If You Feel It, It’s Already Real
If you’re an artist, or a creative of any kind, and you’ve ever felt like your work might have a mission, I want to say this to you:
If you can feel it… it’s real.
If you’ve seen it in your mind… it’s meant for you.
If you’re doubting it, it means you care deeply.
And if you need support? I’m here.
Let’s build soul-led dreams together.