Artist in Residence: Pouch Cove Foundation
spending 30 days in a live-in-studio at pouch cove residency
30 days in pouch cove, newfoundland
thirty days ago, I hopped on a series of flights to land in Newfoundland, Canada. I spent several weeks in my live-in studio loft; layering the walls with quick gestural studies, stretching canvas filled with under-paintings, sipping coffee at 4am, hiking the east coast trail through the fog and rain, and spending time with strangers-turned friends from around the globe.
I went into this residency with no expectations, but a great deal of pressure. I hadn’t painted in months leading up to it, frozen by my lack of flow state and loss of touchstone within the creative realm. the place that I had returned to, countless times, to keep my head above water…was out of reach. I thought many times about cancelling my flight. I felt I was in no position to take up space as a failed artist. as someone who couldn’t stand the thought of picking up a brush.
Luckily for me, I have people In my life that give a gentle push when I need it. I ordered supplies. I packed my bag, and kissed my dog goodbye reluctantly. I was terrified to be alone with my own thoughts, in the middle of nowhere, with no creative drive or discipline to be found.
at the end of it all, there were no life-changing decisions made within these 30 days…and more significantly…no life-changing work physically produced. the best part is that i’m proud of that. i studied, i sketched, i played, i listened, I tore things up, i learned, i researched, i made bad work and generated good compositions to bring home. I asked questions, I sat with myself, and I worked through some harmful beliefs I had been holding along the way.
i’m on my way to making good work… for the first time in a long time. that is the life-changing aspect.
Journal entry day 12
“Anything can become a prison if we allow it” I write on a sticky note of the studio wall..A place, an ideology, a goal--
The mental prisons we build for ourselves can keep us hostage in a state of fear. It's day 12 of my 30 day residency, and Ive started to feel suffocated by the dense fog and cold rains. My pent up energy doesnt allow for sleep…And lack of sleep doesnt allow a clear mind for creative play. But the clouds parted, and I put on my hiking boots, Determined to face the cold wind up the coast. Two miles in, the world begins to expand: The lush forest floor comes alive with fauna, The water crashing against rock, creating a rhythm close to our heartbeat.I move, I breathe, I remember how to control my mind. Hiking is the only other place where I can touch the current, or my flow, To feel it and be lost within it, with no need to hold my place.
I get back to the studio and take a hot shower, grateful for the exhaustion in my legs. The prison of insecurity and fear is not a good place to lock yourself into. So I change the narrative and remember that my internal fog, and the fog outside, are something I have the power to walk through.
I simply have to walk out the door
Favorite moments from hiking the east coast trail, 50 miles+ down the coast
journal entry Day 17
I learn by doing and fumbling, rather than observing from the sideline perfectly. I developed a fear of failure this year. I spent the day hiking under the fog, and the sun, a 7 hour exchange of conversation and life stories…I love being the least interesting person in the room.or in this case the woods.the road to self discovery lies in listening and learning from every person we meet. they are kind enough to reassure me that this is only my first stand off with creative block….but surely not my last.
'you cant make great work without making bad work and you cant make bad work without experimentation'
Experiential learning is what has pushed my work forward, and I remember now it's the only way through. We have to dig at every crevasse and fully inspect the landscape of the mind….just as my feet do today on this hike
art is really about committing to a conscious act of exploration
Journal entry day 24
“You need to feel at peace more than you need to feel in absolute control”
something my therapist said to me months ago, that's finally starting to stick. Im used to being out of control: When I couldnt control the things that happened to me as a kid, I subconsciously decided I might as well be drunk and spinning out, to allow my insides to match the outside world.As an adult as a freelancer who left their career, I was used to the freefall. Oddly enough, when the pandemic hit, I felt like the rest of the world was finally feeling the absolute panic that I had felt for most of my life.Finally, other people are paying attention! I was calm. I was used to it. It was about time the world had caught up.
The difficult thing about anxiety, is that it is the never ending….push pull of wanting to control the uncontrollable,wanting answers to impossible questions and But in order to create, there must be a surrender. In creation there is a total loss of control: a trust in the divine, in the flow, in what I call, the current--to take you to a place you didn't know existed. When I hit my first ever creative block six months ago, i dug and screamed and kicked and clawed….begging life to let me have the reigns just this once.
The invisible labor of a creative is learning to sit with open palms…Let go or be dragged, as they say. Today, on day 24 of my artist residency, I don't know where I'll end up after this: where I plan to move or what the next five years of my life looks like. if I'll ever reach my dreams of a solo show in new york or writing a book.
but I do feel at peace
and that's the biggest accomplishment I could ask for
Linen Studies: A Fundamental Studio Practice
as my work continues to evolve, it’s important i take moments to reflect on the stages that are subconsciously happening with or without my control. when i get into a pattern of overthinking, over-producing or over-working, it’s best to strip everything back to basics. i remember to become a student again. when i strip it all away, I’m reminded that my love for art is built on the foundation of drawing. the contrasts, mechanics and fundamentals of charcoals. the messy, tangible side of things. when your work supplies your cost of living, you begin to believe there is no room for ‘bad work’. by not giving yourself the space to experiment, fail or play— ultimately— you will only create the lackluster work you wanted to so baldy avoid in the first place.
I’m deep in the process of stripping back the layers in my work. how can i better build a painting? what am i trying to say? who said it best, long before me?
Consistency in the studio becomes the main focus. but in this, there has to be a specific form of release. i have to change the narrative that i am stepping into my studio to create something meant to connect with someone else. I have to now step into the studio knowing that i may create work that no one ever sees, ever CONNECTS with, ever digests. Some will be thrown away, painted over. Others may sit in a corner for years before i learn to re-approach them. When i first began painting, i had little to no imposter syndrome, because i had no eyes on my work. there was a SPECIFIC type of freedom in that. these next several months focus on obtaining that freedom once more; remembering that my work will only feel SUBSTANTIAL if i am fully backing what i create.
Linen Works
While moving back to charcoals and foundational mediums, i’ve created new collections that enable my studio practice to remain in the forefront, (while in the background!)
these linen studies allow my work to remain steady; not altering or changing the course in order to financially reap the benefits of creating work that other people respond to. when investing in these works; not only are you obtaining a vital part of my process, but fully backing my creative exploration and expansion of the work in my career.
to see more of the linen collection, please click here
The Art Of / Dreaming
As we prepare for our exhibition, ‘resurgence’, much of our work and processes have surrounded the concept of grief and nostalgia. a longing to be back where we once were. a homesickness we cannot place. How does this seep into our everyday lives? Are we human without it? (tickets to our EXHIBITION here)
dreaming, for me, has always been a part of this processing. Have you ever lived out your worst fears in your dreams? perhaps your deepest longings or most cherished memories?
How does our brain choose what to present to us? How do we determine the difference between a nightmare and a dream? Where do we go, when we let our minds wander?
Dreaming has always been an integral part of my creative process. I didn’t learn the power they held until a few years ago, when concepts started coming to me in my sleep. While it’s proven we dream every single night; we also rarely remember them. Everyone’s experience with dreaming is often individual: how often we dream, if we can control it, what the details hold.
Some say dreams mean absolutely nothing. A stream of consciousness that differs based on the parts of your brain that are shut down. Others are adamant they are the key to unlocking everything we run from. They can even be sacred.
According to a Stanford based study, you are incapable of making up any stranger’s face in your dreams. Meaning: each and every face in your dreams you have seen before; whether walking by a person on the sidewalk or seeing them on TV. Even if you aren’t paying attention; scrolling on your phone on the subway; your brain is absorbing. Remembering the color of the person’s hair across from you.
Why we dream is one of the human condition’s greatest mysteries. I’ve always enjoyed hearing the details of other people’s dreaming sequences: reoccurring dreams, symbols, stories. They can be so wildly different from the ones I’ve experienced. And so similar.
I’m not one who functions in the black and white with much. I believe things are ever-flowing and changing, and that there aren’t always set-in-stone answers to why things are the way they are. Dreams are part of that.
While I don’t necessarily believe every dream is meant to be meaningful or life-changing, I have had my share of weird coincidences through dreaming. Some have been warnings of what was to come: a specific event happening in my dream before it played out in real life. Others have been lessons: showing me the truth I had difficulty sorting through in real-time. Things my subconscious was aware of that I refused to see. Others have revealed my weaknesses, my fears– even my wiser, higher self. The last several years, much of my processing has occurred deep in my dream state.
A few weeks ago, I had the most vivid dream of my life.
I woke up and I was 13. 13 year-old-sam who has just woken up from a mid-day nap on my parents couch.
I never took naps. I never had the ability to sit still long enough.
Immediately confused as to why I was there, I started looking around. I recognized this time frame of the house. The older couch we had thrown out years before. I ran to the window, no cars in the driveway. Where was everyone? Why was I alone? More importantly, why am I here?
When my Mom pulled in the driveway, I watched her walk up the long concrete stairs holding her work bag and travel coffee mug. Are these real memories from my childhood?
Hearing her keys in the door, she pauses when seeing me, almost alarmed.
‘‘Sam, what are you doing? Why are you not at practice?”
Immediate DISAPPOINTMENT and annoyance.
I knew I was supposed to be at dance. But that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that I was not supposed to be here. Why am I 13? I went to bed at 31.
more importantly, Why am I aware that this is a dream?
Slicing cheese and crackers at the counter, without even looking up, she told me that ‘these things just happen sometimes. That the universe can drop you back into different points in your life. And once it does, we just keep going. We get to live it out, again. There is nothing we can do about it.’
She says it so matter-of-fact. Like this was knowledge everyone had but me.
I felt confusion. Then, rage.
My body went into full panic. I looked at my younger, tattoo-less hands. My nails were still bitten down to the cuticle. Habits we never seem to overcome.
Is this real? Panic through my fingertips. 13? I have 18 years of life to re-live, most of which are about to get really hard and complicated. My teenage years were the hardest. many of them I don’t even remember.
I thought about all of the traumas that had OCCURRED as a teen and young adult: my surgery, assaults, the death of friends, the breakups…the pain. It didn’t phase me. I knew I could handle those. Got through them once, I remember thinking, the second time will be even easier, knowing what I know now.
The concept I couldn’t handle, however, was the thought of not ending back up exactly as I had before. I had met my soulmates. I had the life and the love I had always dreamed of. I worked so hard to heal and change the person I was in order to be that version of myself. Those are things I wasn’t sure I could handle losing. Anything but that.
I started saying names aloud, places aloud, what about my art? I knew I couldn't possibly make the exact same decisions to end up in the same exact place.
As if she was reading my thoughts, my mom added to it, “even if you could make the same decisions, it doesn’t mean that everyone else could.”
My heart dropped. Nothing could ever end up the same.
All of their faces. The people I’ve collected and had the privilege of loving. My luna, who I adopted from a shelter in a state 850 miles away from my hometown. It’s not possible that I don’t get to love them in this life. I cannot sustain that kind of heartbreak.
I got paper from the junk drawer. I started scribbling names. Places they grew up; Places they were growing up, right alongside me now. We’re all kids again, spread across the country like pieces of scattered paper in the wind.
How can I get to them in this life, to ensure meet? I started strategizing how to get to Connecticut, where Bri was born. How to get my license and drive to Pennsylvania, where Keira was now a few years younger than me. How do I end up back in my bed in Charleston, waking up to the sounds of Luna snoring?
I just want one more day.
Did I take it all for granted? How much was I truly present? Of all of the life accomplishments, the exciting trips around the world, the memories– those weren't in the foreground. Not once.
I saw my entire life scroll before me in the smaller moments. Like I was watching the true highlight reel.
Kyle Justin and Dave dumping their bikes on my lawn in the middle of summer, tar stuck to the bottom of our feet. Packing my first paint set and setting it into the Uhaul; passing palm trees for the very first time. Bri smirking at me while holding her coffee, hair soaked from a sunrise swim. Keira holding her pups and my sister laughing as they kiss her face. Nick leading me through the streets of NYC. Linds and Rach laughing and dancing somewhere I can’t place, their smiles wide and beaming. Bruce carrying Luna up the stairs for the first time, setting her down in our new apartment. Girls around the campfire, the smell of smoke sinking into my skin. Kevin’s roaring laugh at dinner, a kind of closeness that heals you. Maddy and Ashley gleaming in the sunlight. Luke grabbing my hand and patting it gently, the feeling of being truly seen. The dogs running through the sand, paired with the colors of sunset; pausing and looking back to make sure we’re still behind them. The way my heart could explode out of my chest. the way people have loved me, and broken me. how it’s made me who i am. The way the paintbrush sits in my fingers, and how it feels to look up at the moon with someone I love sitting beside me.
I close my eyes. Please, I’ll go through it all again. who am i talking to? begging to take me back? a dream god I don’t believe in?
I will go through Every single moment of heartbreak. Knowing I’d end up right back there.
My mom, not looking up from her snack at the counter, smirks through a subtle laugh and says,
“A love like that is only once in a lifetime, I hope you remember that.”
And then, I woke up.
Sometimes, our dreams have a way of reminding us that the best place for us is right here, right now. a reminder that one day, the life we have now will be a part of that longing; that feeling nostalgia, the twinge of homesickness; to wish we could experience it all again.
some of my work that has been inspired by dreams, the dreaming experience, concepts that have floated to me between the space of wakefulness and rest…
to see available work, please click here.
The Art Of / Quitting
One of the most repetitive things I was taught growing up– was how, as a Rueter, I was not a quitter.
When I said I was going to do something, I was to show up with integrity and see it through. Commitment, up until the very to the end, was instilled very young. If I joined a sports team, it was not an option to quit halfway through the season. Instead, I would work tirelessly until I perfected my position. Academics, sports, trying new things / it became very clear early on: quitting was a non-negotiable. Walking away is not permitted. And people will treat you differently when and if you decide to.
We see underlying statements of this woven throughout our societal messaging as well. Up until the last few years, hustle and motivational culture dominated the charts: fuck your feeelings and how to be a badass and boss-babe’ing. We are taught to grit our teeth, put our emotions aside, and push through. And we want everyone to look at us as we do it.
There are times in life that require all of these things. Where strength, diligence, perseverance and devotion are necessary in order to reach growth on the other side. We know this. And usually, our bodies know this. We can recognize when this form of resilience is needed in order to step into the light. I’m thankful I’ve been able to utilize my knack for devotion to bring me to this very moment. There were, and still are, times when quitting would make for a less difficult day-to-day.
I’m interested in dissecting our culture’s obvious distaste and immediate knee-jerk reaction to quitting, and how this affects where it is actually warranted. We’ve cemented the idea of quitting as negative rather than a power. Because of that, we remain in toxic situations for longer than we should. We accept mundane paths in life, rather than fighting for a passion. We refuse to let ourselves see the many paths, many options.
Someone asked me the other day, through all of the change and pain and success I’ve seen in the last three years… what is the biggest lesson I’ve learned?
I’ve learned that quitting- walking away- letting go - giving up- changing direction- is actually the most important skill I’ve lacked for most of my life. I don’t mean you quit when it's difficult. I mean you quit when it’s not working, when it’s toxic, when it’s detrimental to our own growth or even stability. Learning how to quit has changed my life. Quitting has set me free.
Being raised as a ‘never quitter’ kept me small as an adult. It forced me in situations I should have never been in in the first place. I wasn’t able to trust myself enough to make those decisions when entering them. When I did decide to do something, I saw it as an end all be all, never an experiment or limited experience. I would dive head first into a job, a relationship, an idea– and place my entire heart and soul into it. There was no line of testing the waters. It was what I had entered, and I would be there forever now. When I would feel things not working, I would become malleable at the expense of myself in order to fit the shape it needed me to be. I was taught early on that instead of quitting, we just give it more time, more energy, more nurturing. The tides will change and you will control it, rather than wanting to quit. Do we see how muddled this gets?
The first time I ever quit something, I was in my early 20’s.
A few years after graduating, I took a job for a well known firm in the New York area. Almost immediately, there was an undercurrent I could sense from my boss that felt unsafe and inappropriate. When it surfaced within the first two weeks of working for him, I mustered up the courage to put in my resignation face to face. I’ll never forget the calculated card he chose to play as I handed him the papers. Calmly and cold, he replied: ‘You just took this job on and you’re going to quit already? Think of what everyone will say about you. Think of what your dad will say when you tell him you’ve quit”
Quitting will make her feel like a failure. Making her feel like a failure will overshadow any sense of intuition or self respect she has. He smelt it on me, as I’m sure he had on the many young women who had been in my position prior. I can make her feel as if she will never recover from doing such a thing.
The shame and the guilt that surfaces with quitting (and, quite frankly- perceived failure) is one of suffocation. In that moment, he believed he could breed the shame around quitting in such a large powerful way, that I would immediately change my mind (and I’m sure, prevent more rumors around his poor reputation from spreading). I like to think that my older, wiser and more confident self was present in that moment. As I was swallowing knives to keep from crying, I calmly shook my head no, walked out, and never saw him or that job ever again.
I quit and I had to deal with the consequences. I quit and had to return to my old job and ask for my position back. I quit and I placed my safety above shame. This was monumental for me. Looking back, it still is. I can’t believe that 22 year-old Sam held her ground there, as a first time quitter.
There have even been many other experiences in my life where I’ve risked my own safety in order to ‘keep my no-quitter pride’. I would bend and bend and bend until I could somehow justify it in my mind; I would become the queen of not giving up. Not ever, not now. Just look at how selfless I am. In fact, I have no sense of self. Oh, the prizes we are given for disappearing entirely.
Being terrified of quitting taught me to give away my own consent. It took away my ability to speak my truth and know when it felt unsafe, unaligned or misguided in my bodily knowing. I became codependent and unable to hold boundaries with a single person in my life. A walking doormat.
When I knew that my teaching job was not in my mental health’s best interest, I stayed at the cost of my body and my mind. Because the salary wasn’t high enough, I took on several weekend jobs in order to stay afloat. I was on so many medications, bed ridden from stress migraines and chronic pain. I had gone to undergrad and worked my ass off for a dual major and a teaching certification. There is no going back now. How could I possibly change my life or do anything differently? I am Committed. This is life now.
When I knew my relationship of 7 years was in a bad place, and myself, a worse one– I stayed longer because I had made a promise, a commitment, and couldn’t bear the shame of saying it was no longer healthy for me. The shame of walking away felt like it would rot me from the inside out. How could I ever be seen as a good, worthy girl.. Ever again? I didn’t believe there was anything worse than being a woman who had called off a marriage. I didn’t believe that was something you could recover from. You do not recover from the shame of quitting.
The true hard thing was not staying to work it all out and sacrifice pieces of who I was, in order to keep it there. Learning to control the situation, to forgo pieces of my true self to make it work was easy. It was my normal. It never really occurred to me that you could actually survive changing your mind. That everyone else around you could, too.
The hard thing was walking away. The hardest thing, the impossible thing, was quitting.
Quitting, sometimes, is the only real way of choosing ourselves.
“I don't like the way this is making my body feel” is a perfectly adequate reason to remove yourself from a person, place, experience. You might read that and think it’s too simple. And maybe that’s what the world would like us to believe. Because it keeps systems upheld and in place, working just the way they were meant to. Sure, the consequences of that choice will be extremely complex and take some time to unwind. But it is never impossible. Baby steps.
How are we treating our friends, our loved ones, our family members, when they bring up the act of quitting? Our knee-jerk reaction is to always protect those we love from hardship, from suffering… from pain. Sometimes, if we aren’t careful, we will confuse bravery and knowing for weakness and indifference. Sometimes, we will want to coax them back into what appears ‘safe’ in order to keep the peace. Remember that protecting our loved ones means protecting their innermost knowing. The world has already done everything in its power to diminish that flame. It is our job, in love and in life, to trust our people; to know when it’s time to quit.
We should teach our children how to notice the art of quitting in those around them. To be an example of the ebb and flow. Notice when we are needing to loosen our grip, needing to let go. Notice when something is harmful, no longer serving us, noticing that maybe we’ve done all that we can.
More importantly, we need to teach our children that letting other people down is not the end of the world. That letting ourselves down in order to protect others, is. That we are honoring our own capacity and realness, and in turn; doing the same for someone else. We need to give others permission to stop doing what is no longer working. That with the intention of quiet contemplation and introspection; the act of quitting can be the most empowering choice in that moment. It can lead us to freedom. To healing. It can change the systems of the world we live in.
Quitting can take on a positive connotation. One where we release the misconceived notion of being a failure. Quitting teaches us many things if we are willing to sit beside it in that moment and really listen.
It’s saying, it’s okay to change course, it’s okay to chart a new one. Life is about experimentation and taste testing. Nothing is permanent. It means we will make mistakes, that we are permanent students. It means I will love you regardless of what those mistakes are. It means, I love you for trying in the first place. And now I will cheer you on as you search for the new.
Let’s congratulate others who are willing to quit.
And love ourselves a little more when we do, too.
if you’re enjoying ‘the art of’, please consider ways you can support this practice today:
By sharing on social media (it’s free!) and tagging @sruetercreates
have a conversation with a loved one. what does this bring up? how is it relevant in your life?
leave a comment! Let me know these resonate. it makes all the difference x
"What I've Learned From The Sun" / Behind The Work
In this latest collection of work, I want to explore the quiet notions of topics we don’t make public centerpieces of in our lives. emotions that feel out of reach, unconscious patterning, conditioned storytelling. The things that can feel a bit uncomfortable or taboo for most, feel touchable with art. I want to push myself to keep going there. the figure has always been the most truthful medium to do so.
where i relearn the inner-workings for being inside my own body; it is that place that keeps me TETHERED to life. a remembering.
There is a visceral connection between mind and body that we are not taught about in school. we are not taught how to access it / how significant it is / how to heal those parts of ourselves when they become lost. sometimes, we can go our entire lives ignoring this connection. we lose all bodily autonomy. this work serves as a gentle reminder of what lies beneath the surface behind the death of our embodiment.
the concept of shame has been surfacing in my work. shame can be the foundation of which we build our lives, if we are not careful. it is DETRIMENTAL to our confidence, our courage, our growth patterns, our concept of self. shame is the invisible rope around the neck. closing in each time you find a narrative to support the concept of you not being worthy.
NO ONE IS BORN ASHAMED. SHAME CYCLES ARE A LEARNED AND INHERITED PATTERN. SOME THINGS ARE CONSTANT, YOU LEARN: LIKE THE SUN RISING AND SETTING EACH DAY. cycles often go unnoticed, as if they will always be there. they are subtle, unconscious; like air leaving the lungs. what cycles are we normalizing in the human experience? what do we take as our truth?
FROM GENERATION TO GENERATION, WE LEARN TO PERFECTLY MIMIC OUR CAREGIVERS SHAME. GUILT SAYS WE’VE DONE SOMETHING WRONG. SHAME SAYS WE, IN OUR VERY ESSENCE, ARE WRONG. THE NATURAL WORLD SYNCS TO THE MOON AND SUN CYLES, AND WE HAVE CREATED OUR OWN. IN OUR CYCLE OF SHAME, THERE IS NO ROOM FOR VULNERABILITY, CURIOSITY, OR GROWTH. INTERNALIZED FEAR KEEPS US SMALL, BELIEVING WE ARE UNWORTHY OF CONNECTION. DISCONNECT TEACHES DISHARMONY. we are no longer in our body. we are no longer speaking our truth. we are no longer able to walk through the world; BELIEVING we are worthy of connection.
but looking carefully we see: ALL AROUND US ARE BIDS FOR CONNECTION. ALL AROUND US ARE the REMINDERS FOR ONENESS; WHOLENESS..LIKE BEING RAISED BY THE SUN.
THERE IS NOTHING IN THE UNIVERSE THAT REPRESENTS ONENESS MORE THAN THE SUN ITSELF. ESSENTIAL TO ALL LIFE; IT IS REVERED ACROSS ALL CULTURES AND RELIGIONS. WE LOOK TO THE SOURCE OF ALL LIFE, THE LIGHT OF THE CENTER OF THE WORLD / AND WE ARE REMINDED OF CLARITY: THE CLEARING OF ALL DOUBT, CONFUSION AND FOG. the CLEARING of cycles that are no longer necessary, that prevent us from basking in the light.
AS ONE DECIDES TO FULLY BREAK FREE OF THE SHAME CYCLE, THERE IS A HEALING AND REBIRTH FOR ALL GENERATIONS AFTER.
The Art Of / Feeling Relevant vs Feeling Real
I’ve been feeling out of sorts with the work. The work of course, always seeping into all parts of my life. What happens when the work is your life?
When I first started painting, finding my artistic voice was my number one priority. I don’t say that lightly. I mean I placed it above most things: relationships, sleep, time outside, rest.
Creative exploration fueled my every thought. I couldn’t get enough. It became my purpose, my obsession. I would work 18 hour days, staying up late in the studio with three hours of sleep, all to wake up for work the next day. I repeated this cycle for years. More and more, my authentic self started showing up in the work I explored here. A kind of flow so special you can’t really explain. A kind of justification and validation that I have never felt anywhere else in my entire life. I felt real.
Art exploration was fueled by my hunger for realness. “I exist!” In a way that is good and true and worthy.
Working as a full-time artist has been an adjustment. Navigating the art world, and where I ultimately want to end up—that itself… is a full-time job. I want to push myself to create more complex layers in my work, in all formats. Color, composition. Structure. I don’t want to settle into one box. I want to continuously outgrow the one I placed myself in the year before. I want my art to reflect the learning in my life, and more importantly– connect in the lives of others where they need it most. Art filled holes in my life that are “unfillable” by anything else. I keep going in the hopes that maybe, somehow, it can be that for someone else, too.
The more time I spend online, the more I find myself feeling the opposite of flow. I find it difficult to share the things that used to fuel my connections here. I feel overstimulated, understimulated, and bored…. All at the same time. I feel depressed at the state of our world and annoyed that we have access to so much at every moment of every day. I feel energetically exhausted taking it all in, and I don’t know where to put all of it, or how to help. When I do place something out into the world, I feel imposter syndrome for taking up space. Like I’m ashamed for finally reaching a life I feel proud to call mine. It’s a very strange place to be.
Somehow, the resentment I feel for the online world has become entangled with my physical work of painting. Because I’ve grown from the beginning here, on this platform with you all, it doesn’t feel natural to have one without the other. My creative practice, since starting a business, has always run alongside these online platforms. The ‘imaginary audience’ of my life, as some might say. We’ve been able to connect over the years in such an intimate way. The amount of gratitude I have for every person and every connection I’ve made because of these platforms has been nothing short of life-changing. I genuinely mean that.
I wouldn’t be here without it, and without you.
The ‘work’ that I have to publish on these apps to stay relevant today is what I would deem,
“soul-sucking”. The new changes here leave me feeling icky, inauthentic, and exhausted. And then, in turn, writing about how exhausted they make me feel makes me feel like a whiny kid throwing a tantrum. We’re forced to become artists FOR the apps, rather than artists for ourselves. The apps have manipulated us from making real, honest art into making art that keeps people numb a little longer, thus making them more money. They need us all to be so dissatisfied with our life that we physically, emotionally and spiritually leave our own / in order to spend all of our time peering into our screen; daydreaming about someone else’s.
no one’s life is better than the one you are already living.
did you scoff at that? roll your eyes? hear your inner critic start to flare?
that’s the power of social media.
And of course, the capitalist pressure feeds the online machine well. We all long for work that allows a sense of purpose, of freedom, of safety. Everyone is exhausted; our basic needs in America (and most of the world) are not being met; but we have to continue on the daily wheel in order to stay afloat. We are longing for change, looking for a way to make our lives more enjoyable, sustainable and free. Instagram and TikTok have opened those doorways for many, many people. it became the new-age way of ‘sticking it’ to the corporate world and going your own way. It’s only natural that as a culture, we are now looking to these apps and thinking, ‘this may be my chance’. who doesn’t long for a better quality of life?
And so we wake up, we spend most of our day on our phone, doing exactly as these companies want: relying on them to change our lives.
Numbing is all part of that cycle too. It breeds insecurity and contempt. Everything we experience can be altered and displayed as online art: from the coffee you consume at the rainy window, to the shower you take at night. I find myself saddened by the overwhelming thoughts that crowd and creep and linger in my brain while I scroll. How could I possibly ever afford a studio that large and beautiful? If I get a bit of filler in my lips, will I be more attractive? I’m 31 years old and have nothing figured out. Will this new dress make me feel more like myself? Want, want, want.
It just strips me of my here and now; and with it, my flow. There are so many bits of information coming in that I can’t tell which parts are worth keeping.
Back to creativity..
We produce work and videos of our work that we believe will perform well for the algorithm. our unique voice that formulated the art in the first place— is irrelevant. I hear stories of musicians producing songs specifically tailored to performance on TikTok. We see people’s lives become completely changed forever by just one viral video; and it entices us to keep going. Even though it may not feel like us, take away time from our creative endeavors, prevent us from the privilege of boredom… we keep going. many of us make our living through these apps. we have to clock in, regardless of the day we’re having— like a normal job. the problem with social media, though— is they create the addiction to all of it so precisely that we are quite literally never clocking out.
Over the last decade, these online platforms have changed the world forever. But with it, we’ve created the need to sustain. These applications are designed to hold us here. To keep not only our attention; but our creativity, in a complete chokehold. It takes us out of our creative genius and leaves us screaming into the void, longing to stay relevant. The time that I used to spend expanding my creative practice, is now spent scrolling to find a ‘trending’ sound to use; because it’s the only way anyone will see my work, and in turn, pay my bills.
I don’t want someone to discover my work because a reel or a tiktok went viral with me standing next to it.. I want someone to connect with my work because they read something that resonated with them, because a composition stopped them in their tracks, because they feel less alone in the human experience. I want it to be personal. art has always been created to keep the INTERRELATEDNESS alive.
I want to know we’re still here, underneath it all– connecting.
Social media has stripped me of feeling that. The last three years have not been easy, but they have excavated an ENORMOUS amount of learning. The shedding of old layers and old versions of myself that were unhealthy, painful, and stunted. The me I’ve waited 30 years to meet. It takes so much courage, energy, and focus to remain true to the self I’ve found. With the drastic changes in these apps, I find myself showing up and doing things that have never aligned with this version of me or my work.
To watch it happen and to know it, is heartbreaking.
The Sam I’ve worked so hard to uncover, just to bury in order to avoid becoming ‘irrelevant’. In order to keep someone’s attention, just a second longer. To trade the value of my work for the hopes that it keeps me in the forefront, and continuing to connect in the way I once had. the hypocrisy of it all is infuriating.
Now that being online feels nothing like who I am, it’s taken my ability to create alongside it. Because they have become enmeshed, they have become one. And with that gone, I am not in a safe space with my work.
As someone with crippling depression and anxiety, I’ve fought my entire existence to earn a life that allows me to stay in that light; that keeps me feeling real. I have to step away from anything that ever impedes on that. After reflecting the last few months on why I have felt less and less in the light, it worries me that the answer to this question is the underlying foundation of how our society functions now: my reliance to being online.
To the core of my being, I want nothing less. I do not want to make 10 second videos of me turning my canvas around just to show up on an algorithm. I do not want to stop my entire creative flow to constantly record, move my tripod, and capture 100 different variations of the same thing. I do not want to post on these applications and show my highlight moments, just to make someone else feel irrelevant. I do not want to see other women on these apps and want to change my face or prevent it from aging. I do not want to spend time scrolling in an attempt to find some magical solution or strategy to make sure my audience sees my work.
I do not want my work to be a source of validation for me; instead a means to release and feel free. What I’m not sure of, is where to go from here. What that looks like for me as an online creator, an artist, a writer. I do know, more than I know most things, that I long for more presence, more intention, more life. I want to write more and paint more and be bored again. I want to see what grows from that space. I want to nurture that space and be comfortable in it again. Feel like I’m back in the light.
In my happiest memories as a child, I’m just a girl, scribbling with markers on the floor and splattering paint too hastily along the entirety of the table. I have no idea where I am or what I’m supposed to be doing. But it’s the only place where I ever felt real.
In my life now, I have many responsibilities in keeping this online business afloat. There are so many things to be done, and painted and filmed and edited and written and pinned and shared.
But in my absolute best moments, in the moments where I love myself most; I am just a girl, making things with her hands.
It’s time to get back to that.
In The Wild / A Month in Europe
This summer, I spent several weeks in Europe meeting family, exploring with friends, and leaning into the sense of playfulness that I hadn't experienced in years.
during travel, life events and projects, i find it more and more difficult to remain in the present moment if i’m sharing online during the actual happening. these next several weeks, i plan to sit down and share some of my favorite projects, writings, and experiences with you all from 2022, in blog format.
Our ITINERARY was as follows:
for those of you wanting specifics of travel ITINERARY only, scroll a bit more
Those of you hoping to read some journal thoughts, sketchbook inserts, and film, keep on scrolling with me xx
When I started really placing travel at the forefront of my life priorities two years ago, I noticed a pattern immediately. I would wake up camping in a beautiful wooded area, stand over the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon, or catch my breathe in London and think wait — I may never be here again, in all my life. This is it.
I have to take in every possible detail and entrain them in my memory so well that I never lose the sense of standing right here. As someone who has never been able to afford weeks off at a time or a month long trip in a van, I would send myself into a panic thinking “this is it. this is all you’ll ever see. so you better remember it”
What’s worse than grieving the loss of something while you’re still actually in the moment of that something? traveling brought this thought pattern to the surface. how often am I doing this in my other areas of life? living in my head, waiting for the shoe to drop.
No one can experience full joy living their life tiptoeing across eggshells.
It’s taken me awhile to adjust and rest into the fact that I can enjoy the moment passing, without strangling it or
worrying about the next time I’ll stand in front of the world in awe again.
This trip was that for me. release the need for control
Trip Details
Bri and I left Charleston to head to Venice, Italy. There, we met my parents and split a quaint little Airbnb in the heart of the city— a balcony to overlook the canals. We spent two days experiencing the city (mostly eating croissants and gelato and pasta) before picking up our rental car as a group.
venice to dolomites
We drove four hours north to the Dolomites, where we’d spend the next few days hiking and exploring the most beautiful scenery in the world. Normally for a hiking adventure, we’re all about the camping and backpacking— but with my parents in the group we all decided it would be best to grab a comfortable Airbnb for the group.
We rented a beautiful apartment overlooking the peaks and were able to cook cozy dinners each night and enjoy the view after a long day of hiking. cooking and buying groceries always helps cut costs, ESPECIALLY in a group setting.
at the end of our time in the dolomites, we got our covid-19 tests completed at a local pharmacy and signed off for our travel back home and into portugal. it was still required at this time to have testing done, regardless of vaccination status.
HONESTLY, with all of the hikes and details of just these five days alone, i think i’ll do a SEPARATE post on this. sharing hikes, areas, tips, etc
dolomites to padua
After this, we drove back as a group towards the venice airport and stayed in padua, italy. This city is just outside of venice and made the perfect pit stop. our airbnb stay for the few hours we were in it, 10/10.
TIP:
it’s good to note here that renting a car in italy can be tricky, mostly for parking. we chose an airbnb that gave us directions to a local parking garage. we tend to never check large luggage and only travel with duffles that fit on our backs soley for this reason: dragging heavy baggage any distance- down cobblestone streets - or city subways - is always more of a hassle than it needs to be.
By the time we made the several hour trek back, it was dusk. we were exhausted by couldn’t let the time pass us by. we checked into the airbnb, took a quick shower, and grabbed a delicious dinner around 10pm. being a friday, the streets were filled with people enjoying music, dinner, drinks. we got to enjoy some of the architecture and CATHEDRAL before crashing in bed.
venice to lisbon
up at 4 am for our flight, we drove towards the venice airport and dropped the rental car before going our SEPARATE ways to catch new flights. Bri and i headed towards portugal, landing in lisbon. quick and inexpensive flight (around 65 dollars each) put us in lisbon around noon. Here, we met up with Lindsey and Rachel at the airport and picked up our new rental car.
driving the streets of lisbon was exciting and kept it interesting (shout out to linds for being a trooper) the insane traffic circles and crowded streets kept us on our toes for sure. we dropped our bags at our hostel hotel and headed out into the city to explore.
Lisbon to Alentejo, Portugal
We enjoyed a delicious breakfast the next morning before packing our bags again and heading back into our rental car. Driving just over 3 hours towards the coast of portugal. here, we stayed at a retreat center, cocoon portugal, for an entire week. this yoga retreat center is located on the breathtaking coast of portugal, and the drive there was through the beautiful countryside; with many stops to overlook cliffs and rocky shoreline. cocoon is a 275 acre coastal farm + retreat in the Alentejo region, which is known for its long stretches of untouched coastline and charming white-washed villages. the views from the hikes we experienced here were truly magical; and so insane to see so much beach empty for all of the nude bathing.
staying here for the retreat was the best bang for our buck: all farm-to-table (literally!) meals, three times a day, room, and yoga classes were all included for our weekly rate. we spent many days hiking the world-famous fisherman’s trail (a must see*), tanning on nude beaches, playing with the baby goats, and even horsebacking riding along the cliffsides of the rocky coastline. after hopping to a new place every 2-3 days, this was the reset we needed.
travel can be EXHAUSTING and DEFINITELY isn’t for everyone, and that’s okay! this leg of the trip was the first trip i had ever taken where i stayed still for longer than 4 days in the same place, with a bed and shower. it was such a treat! Highly recommend any of the experiences that cocoon offers.
Alentejo to lagos (day Trip)
on the last day of our stay in portugal, we drove to lagos for the day to see Ponta da Piedade, explore old lagos, walk camilo beach, and INDULGE in way too many Pastel de Natas. This area is DEFINITELY more tourist-based, but would still highly recommend! we ended our trip by returning our rental car in lisbon and hopping on a flight to ibiza.
Ibiza to Valencia
Being this close to spain, the three of us have always had an island off-the-coast on our bucket list. we hopped on another cheap flight directly from lisbon to ibiza (it might have been the smallest plane i’ve been on) and enjoyed a few days here. while ibiza is known mostly for it’s party scene / the crystal clear TURQUOISE water makes an insanely beautiful summer vacation spot. we ended up doing a SNORKELING tour of the islands’ PRIVATE beaches and sandbars, and it was one of the highlights of our trip.
Ibiza to valenica to charleston
ibiza is too small of an airport to make it all the way back home, so we made a pit-stop in valencia, spain. only being here 15 hours, we took time to explore the city’s food, get our covid tests (which was an adventure all on it’s own), and of course… get tattoos. Our airbnb was beautiful and i wish we had more time in it, alongside this lively city.
some travel honesty of the trip:
because we packed light for such an extensive trip with such a variety of experiences to dress for, we didn’t bring our hiking boots; but our hiking sneakers. the hikes we chose in the dolomites were very high elevation, and still had a lot of snow melt on the loose rock. would DEFINITELY RECOMMEND the proper gear going forward
on our second to last day in the dolomites, my dad, bri and i were all running down a steep trail (feeling ourselves and shouldn’t have) my dad jumped off a rock, that moved, and fell— breaking his ankle. of course, he continued to hike on it for two more days and didn’t get it properly looked at for a week after returning home :’)
when we arrived in lisbon, we realized as a group we had miscalculated and not booked our hotel and car on the right day (so many moving parts for a long trip like this!) and had to find a new hostel. luckily there was also a car available at the airport!
at one point in the dolomites, figuring out how to pay for gas was confusing. they also mainly speak german in this area, so our italian was useless.
traveling between countries with so many different covid-19 rules and regulations was stressful to navigate, not to mention the hope of not contracting it and being unable to get home. luckily for us, we all tested negative at the end of the trip!
in our last city, valencia, it was difficult to find a test. once we finally did, the language barrier made it easy for mistakes to be made in terms of getting our VERIFIED results. lindsey and i received ours, and when bri’s didn’t come through... she had to run across the city, making it to him just in time before he closed. stressful for sure!
linds got food poisoning in Ibiza and was a total champ about it… being that sick and away from home is never easy.
our flights back had multiple layovers both abroad and new york. customs is always backed up in nyc, so we had to cut lines in tsa and sprint several terminals before making our last flight. we’ve missed many, many connections this way :’)
all and all, we made it through many flights and car rides without any big issues…which is always a plus!
Exploring does the same thing that art does for me. It puts be back into living mindfully. Bearing witness.
Bearing witness in our lives takes many different forms. Staying present in a difficult conversation, even when we are bored/angry/hurt. Not skipping to the end to see how it all turns out. The 3 am lure that craves something familiar, something to love that the light hasn’t touched. How we can notice when and why the ache stems from. Witnessing the way my grandmother’s wrinkled hands pass over the recipe card for the last time, without knowing that it was so. Accepting that there will be many more last moments. Scribbling on a page with no outcome. Sitting in traffic and smiling at the stranger next to you. Witnessing the dissonance of both the harshness and beauty in a direct collision: the symmetry and asymmetry of all things, including ourselves.
photo dump + real moments:
Journal Entry / Social Media + Distorted Reality
When you utilize social media for your business, it’s easier to understand that it is, in fact, not real life.
Even still, it can be difficult to not get lost in the rabbit hole
If you follow business owners and creatives on instagram, you’ve probably seen many posts on the exhaustion and burn out due to so much change in the social landscape this year. and if you’re a creative, i’m sure you’re feeling similar to me: bored by the need to constantly output some 10 second video that downplays your craft and ultimately, kills any creative notion. these apps do not promote out-of-box thinking; but rather, reward you for being more of the same. we know this. but i’ve had more and more conversations recently regarding another side of it: the relational side.
it’s 2am and I can’t sleep, so i open my laptop and start to write. this time of year is always extra difficult for me to navigate. the sun shows itself less, depression and triggers show up a bit more. each november and december i have to completely readjust / to work on showing up for myself, in a way that isn’t just survival mode.
i know this time of year can be unsettling for many, and many in silence. the version of myself that has been experiencing panic attacks, losing appetite, sleeping less, terrified of painting— she doesn’t show up in my art business. she isn’t seen when i post my reels on instagram. you see something much different.
As someone who knows first hand that life is not a highlight reel, I feel the gap increasing. It’s a weird place to live, in this gap, and I know so many of us are. In simplicity: Because of social media; friends, clients, even family members, having a distorted perception of my life, and even who I actually am. Screens place unconscious filters and boundaries we’re not even aware of. As a self-represented creator, there are basics that I must portray in order to stay afloat socially. These include the most magnificent gifts of my life: dream projects, travel itineraries, beautiful images and videos of the most impactful moments of my life. These relate to my work. These are something that bridges the gap between me, and you; the reader.
A few years ago, my fiance and I split. It was a grieving process unlike any other, walking away from a partner of 7 years. I was not only grieving the loss of him in my life, but my identity within that relationship. It was absolutely grueling and exhausting work just being a person each day. My world had imploded and I was working tirelessly to pick up the pieces. Because I had chosen to make this relationship extremely public and shareable on this app, many reached out when photos disappeared from my page. During the midst of this, I felt intruded on. Like someone opening the door on your most fucked-up, raw moments. Moments that, naturally, you want to keep hidden. You want to protect yourself. I didn’t know how to explain myself to strangers. Was I supposed to? Am I supposed to make an announcement or something?
I was at rock bottom, trying to decipher up from down. It was so heartbreaking to have to answer, message after message, and ask for privacy as I attempted to rebuild my life. When you are in a time of uncertainty, every explanation adds to that cycle of shame. I wanted to run and hide, and apologize to every person who saw the inner-most workings of my life. I felt like I had let people down just by existing. I worried I was letting others down, more than I even worried about myself.
From then on, I’ve tried to keep sharing on the internet a more sustainable, intentional act. There are parts of my life I have decided need nurturing away from the online social landscape. This is a difficult line to walk, because my work as an artist is directly tied to so much of my own inner world and experiences. I wonder if being an artist means I forfeit the right to keep parts hidden away for just me?
In the last two years, I have shared much less of the intimate parts than when I first started writing and painting. And with that, I notice a gap increasing. It’s difficult for us to connect to one another when you’re only observing someone’s best moments / it makes them feel distant / unapproachable / it creates a version of a person / not a real person. With Instagram, you’ve witnessed me land my dream jobs, sell artwork for a living, travel the world, and build my friendships with other creatives. You have not witnessed my heartbreak, months and weeks of debilitating depression and anxiety, health scares, breakups with friends, familial issues, imposter syndrome, difficult decisions, change, burn out and exhaustion, and so on.
The issue with social media is we are opening these apps each day to forget our own sadness, our own loneliness…to live vicariously through someone else’s life… even for just 10 seconds. The reality is, the people we are utilizing as an escape route; have all of the same reasons and notions to escape as us. We are relying on one another to be a numbing agent, and it makes us all a little less human. Having a number of followers on any of these social scapes does not directly excuse you from the complicated existence that is the human experience.
I used to find peace in sharing the most vulnerable aspects of my life on these platforms. I was longing for connection, and with so many of you; I got my wish. Here and now, I feel nothing but pressure. Stage fright. Because while I know I do not matter in the grand scheme of things, I’m not that important; I do struggle with a sense of shame for contributing to the insecurities and sadness that some people feel when opening these apps. It’s difficult for me to stomach the idea that, in order to keep marketing my work and sustain a career on social media, I contribute to a system that makes people feel less than human.
I do know that I am just as much of a complicated, confused, and a work-in-progress as the person reading this. I have no secret formula for working through trauma, building a business, losing a best friend, healing a heartbreak, knowing how to navigate a path in life. I'm in it, here, with you. And I loathe the fact that a part of my business, due to these apps, requires me to make you believe that I’m not. That I’ve got it all figured out, that I know the secret recipe to life. That you’re behind in knowing who you are, or what you want out of life.
It’s all a fabricated reality. We’re all just doing our damn best. Sometimes it’s the highlight reel. Others, we just keep our head above water. And if that’s where you are right now, treading– I’m right there, in the water with you. So many of us are.
I used to open these apps and feel inspired by not only my potential, but the potential of the world. Now I spend more time consuming, less time creating. Now I spend more time disappointed, than I do questioning and dreaming. I create perceptions of other people based on what they’re showing me, I make numbing agents out of someone else’s life. I beg people not to do the same with me. Most days I feel like I’m screaming into a void. Where does all of this leave us? What am I allowed to have and hold without showing the guts of… in order to have you understand that I’m still human?
With so many of us confusing illusion for connection, where does the world end up?
Are we still there, underneath it all?
More on this soon. Maybe
Commission Projects: The Process
Interested in learning more about the commission process?
I consider this process to be very sacred; working with clients in such an intimate setting often requires a perspective shift. one that i welcome the challenge of within my creative process. honestly, i believe it to be fundamental to my own practice. Having an outcome geared toward someone’s elses’ experiences, narratives, or viewpoints pulls me out of my own normalcy, and allows me to drop in to the challenge of ENVISIONING something through a stranger’s eyes. the dance of remaining true to my own artistic notions while formulating a composition for someone else’s awareness is a very delicate one. and when i’m asked to do so, it’s not one i will ever take for granted. there is nothing more meaningful than hearing someone’s story and being able to embody it through a piece. whether it’s to take back a power that feels lost, convey an emotion through color, or depict a pattern of growth and healing; these processes remind me how interconnected we truly are. art is only the medium of remembering.
Like most things, it begins with a sketch
no matter the concept or project, we begin with my foundational: drawing. This is the best way to get thoughts to paper without too much overthinking, tweaking, or filtering. most studies will be done quickly, in a gestural format. the work always evolves and changes the more we proceed. we begin with the most important tools: Charcoal, pastels, and newsprint. it’s my way of communicating directly with you.
Working together to nail down a concept requires trust in the creative process
After discussing your basic needs as a client, these studies will be created solely for your project. If you are envisioning a figurative piece, this is the time when clients chose the pose and narrative that fits the end goal. Each client is different; some like to be more involved than others.
for example, some have a basic emotion they are looking to convey, and i formulate ideas with poses, color, composition. others dream of having a specific piece created off of photos of their own body. both are ACHIEVABLE! The amount of involvement is completely up to you, as the client. If working together on a piece for your body specifically, we walk through a step-by-step process on preparing photographs for the work. this part is often the most empowering for many!
Please do keep in mind that the creative process cannot be ultimately controlled down to every detail. there must also be a willingness to let go as trust the creative process.
After the client approves these concepts, the final project is started. If the client prefers, some progress photos can be sent along the way as well.
Commissions can take anywhere from 2-8 months, depending on the size of the project and workload surrounding the project. A final date will be projected at the start of the process, and i always keep in touch if something changes or needs more time.
some examples of commission work
FAQ:
i have a specific piece in mind that i was originally drawn to. can we use this in the process?
Yes! one of the first things we discuss are the pieces you are most drawn to in my collections. we will work together to bring similar aspects to your piece
i don’t want to pose nude, but have a concept i want created. is this possible?
of course. not everyone wants a piece representing their own body. as the artist, i hire models to sit for your piece until we reach the desired outcome!
i want a painting done of myself, but feel nervous about posing nude.
It’s natural to be nervous with something so intimate and vulnerable. we will work through the process together to make sure you are completely comfortable and feeling empowered. i have a step by step guide that will work to make the photo process simple and natural, in the comfort of your own home! we want this to be empowering rather than intrusive. by the end of the photo sessions, every single client has mentioned feeling more comfortable and proud of being in their own skin. thats the goal!
what is the investment of a custom piece?
prices vary depending on the scale and detailing of the project. a pricing list can be sent for all inquires. to secure a space for a 2023 commission, a deposit is required. this small deposit will go toward the final payments of the piece. commissions can also be paid in installments of up to 10 months. This can be discussed upfront so all parties feel comfortable, and will be written out in a signed contract before the start of the project.
Do you take clients internationally?
yes! I have COMPLETED commissions for clients in austria, london, AUSTRALIA, berlin, and more. we will work together to ensure a shipping strategy with work being secure and affordable.
“working with sam one on one to create a visual narrative of my own story was not only an incredible process, but a healing and empowering one as well.”
have more questions regarding the process or booking your space for 2023? Get in touch!
Journal Entry / A Place For God
Where do you find your God?
…Years ago, I was able to create from the cavity of a place; a place of destruction, of turmoil, of loss. Now, I create from the stillness, a place of center. When I’m at emotional capacity, I’m unable to build. It’s impossible to paint, to write, to explore the insides or the outsides. Intellectualizing my way around it proves to be nonviable, and so I have learned to sit with it. And when I sit with it, my mind often wanders back here.
All photos by Lindsey
