Shaping the Crazy

The days start early and end late.

I wake to the sound of an alarm and the weight of a to-do list already pressing against my chest. Coffee, emails, kids, work. Walk the dogs. Prep dinner. Answer one more message. Check in on my parents. Fold the laundry. Finish the dishes. Remind someone to brush their teeth. And finally—*finally*—I land on my pillow like a runner at the finish line, out of breath, out of gas.

Some days, there’s a sliver of time just for me. An hour, if I’m lucky. But even then, it’s a choice between the dream and the duties. I could paint—but setting up takes time, and it takes even longer to fall into that sacred zone where my mind quiets and the art flows. So instead, I squeeze in what I can: update the website, respond to messages, take photos of new pieces, apply for a grant, tweak the Etsy shop, edit a caption.

Most nights though, I don’t make it that far. I give in to a cheesy Hallmark movie, a blanket, and two warm doggies curled up beside me. It’s not glamorous, but it’s gentle. And that’s something.

I never thought I’d be here—approaching 50, a single mom, the steady one, the caretaker, the glue. I didn’t picture this version of me when I was younger. I imagined more freedom. More time. More painting.

But life has a way of unfolding in unexpected ways. And amid all the moving parts and tired bones, I’ve discovered something surprising: a deep, resounding gratitude.

In the quiet—however rare—I feel it.

I look around and realize I’m not alone. I live in a community stitched together by kindness, where neighbours from all walks of life show up for one another. My parents are still here—loving, generous, quietly cheering me on. My children, despite the chaos, teach me every day what it means to be strong. I have friends who see the real me and never ask me to be anything else. And I’ve found love that asks nothing but presence—a soft place to land when the world feels heavy.

Yes, my life is full. It’s chaotic. It’s exhausting.

But it’s mine. And it’s beautiful, in its own wild way.

And through it all, the art still calls.

So—between the emails and errands, the movies and the mess—I’ve started sketching again. Slowly, steadily, a new collection is beginning to take shape. It’s inspired by the hush, the pause, the rare and sacred peace that comes between the storms.

It might take me a little longer to bring it to life, but I’m working on it. Over the summer, I’ll share glimpses—sketches, progress shots, and maybe (if I can bribe my teen with snacks) even some behind-the-scenes videos.

Thank you for walking this journey with me.

Stay close.

Here are some sketches of mixed media pieces to come.