It’s 2015. I’m struggling to make art in the margins. My studio is a 5 x 2-foot cedar desk that I managed to fit in the master bedroom.
Space and time are in short supply. (Back then, my day job was art director-graphic designer @ Grand Ciel Design Co).
If I only knew then that two small watercolor studies made on that cedar desk foreshadowed the things to come.
Early works like What the Catbird Sees (watercolor with bright red berries), and Red Autumn Maple have been realized into mature work, as in Where The Catbird Sings and A Change is Coming, as shown below.
Finding threads through reflection.
I hadn’t thought of the connection between my work then and my current work until now. This is why it’s so important to reflect on how far you’ve come in your career. We need to remember where we are winning. Because…
We all start at zero. Zero know-how, zero audience, zero followers, zero sales.
Hard work and perseverance pay off (even if it doesn’t feel that way in the moment).
Doing one small thing a day to move the needle is how you make your intentions (goals*) a reality. *The term “goal” is not a favorite of mine. It feels too male, too football, not enough heart, which is behind intentions.
All this takes time to build an artist’s career (and business).
Fast forward to 2025, I’m exhibiting and selling my work. I’ll be honest. Getting an art business, any business, off the ground, especially in the looming times ahead, is HARD. It just is.
Focus is your friend. Having a business plan is grounding. Being aware of shiny objects and not getting distracted by them frees up your time to do the important, deep work. Keeping a routine, whether that’s a studio art practice, creating a new product line, or developing a line of professional services.
Growing an email list and creating marketing strategies will continue to be my enigmas, even with my background in marketing and communications. (Nobody wants to be bothered with emails, and nobody wants to be sold to, right?)
Yet, I continue to be optimistic. I’m grateful to have a healthy stock of papers to work with. My favorite paper, Fabriano, is made in Fabriano, Italy, and it’s expensive as far as paper goes. I can’t imagine the cost per sheet with tariffs added on.
Dreams start on cedar desks and on small watercolor blocks. They start at kitchen tables, in the shower, on a walk in the woods. One way we can stay together is to support our local small businesses as much as we can, because we all thrive when dreams stay alive.
These posts might resonate with you, too.
How This Artist Structures Her Week.In building my art and business career, I had to figure out a structure that would move the needle without burning me out.
Artistic Freedom. Reflecting on what artistic freedom means from both a world historical perspective and on a personal level.
Since I began making natural inks to incorporate into my art practice, I have grown increasingly interested in the colors nature can produce as pigments. After making black walnut ink and experimenting with ink from buckthorn berries, I want to see what other inks I can make with nature. I think the best color palettes are found in nature.
For one of my watercolors, Wild Indigo, I used ink I made with buckthorn berries. The ink turned out better than expected, giving me a range of colors from deep blue-brown to light sea foam green. Instead of sinking into the thick Fabriano hot press paper I love for watercolor paintings, the ink sat on top of the paper and, once dried, produced a rich, luminous effect.
WILD INDIGO. Watercolor and Buckthorn Berry Ink on 300 lb. Fabriano Hotpress Paper. Artwork: 23.5 x 21 in; 36 x 33.5 in framed ($2300). Interested in this piece? It’s available. Please inquire here.
Wild Indigo — A Recent Discovery.
It’s a recent plant discovery for me, and I am lucky to find it growing in one of my favorite haunts, Lebanon Hills Regional Park (Eagan, Minnesota). I also learned that Wild Indigo is a species of concern, as noted by the Minnesota DNR. Habitat loss due to agriculture and development is the cause of Wild Indigo’s decline.
Returning to natural inks and dyes, I’m reminiscing about my travels through Japan. It was 2017, and my mother had died suddenly the year before. At the encouraging invitation of a long-time friend, a trip would do me good after losing my mother, adding that all artists should visit Japan, I updated my passport, packed a capsule wardrobe for a month of travel, and joined my friend for a trip to the Asia Pacific.
Gujo Hachiman in October.Gujo Hachiman is sometimes referred to as Japan’s water town. Water runs everywhere.Gujo Hachiman’s famous White Castle.
Japan’s Water Town
It was in Japan that I learned a bit about Gujo Indigo Dyeing from a local dye house that continues the 430-year-old tradition. The learning part came after. I don’t know or speak a lick of Japanese, so my experience at the Watanabe Someone Dye-house was purely visual.
My friend and I were walking through the streets of Gujo Hachiman, sometimes referred to as Japan’s water town. Many locals contend for this title, yet having experienced the Gujo Hachiman, the title fits. Running water is everywhere.
We stopped by the dye house only to find it closed. After a moment or two, a small, older woman motioned us inside. She then went into the back room and began to bring out various indigo-dyed items for sale. My friend and I were grateful for the timing and delighted to see a range of beautiful blue hues.
Japan does “cute” really well.Fish kites inside the Indigo Dye House in Gujo HachimanMany examples of Indigo dye art is found everywhere in Gujo Hachiman
Indigo dye has some amazing qualities beyond its blue colors. In Japan, indigo dyeing is known as aizome, dating back to the Edo period (1603-1868) when only the higher social classes were allowed to wear bright colors. (I learned this, too, from Dressed By Nature: Textiles of Japan exhibit at the Minneapolis Institute of Art.)
Japan’s lower classes were also banned from wearing silk. That left cotton as the only clothing option for clothing. When cotton was dyed with indigo, the fabric inherited antibacterial and insect-repellent qualities. The plant that’s used for making indigo dye, Persicaria tinctoria, is a flowering plant in the buckwheat family, also known as Chinese indigo, Japanese indigo, and Dyer’s Knotweed.
Surprising Benefits of Indigo Clothing
Indigo dye (aizome) was effectively odor-preventing and also provided skin relief for those suffering from eczema. The samurai wore indigo clothing to prevent wound infections, and firefighters favored indigo fabric for its flame-retardant properties. Fires were common. Homes were built of wood, flame cooking, and domestic indoor lighting were hazardous.
Creating Different Shades of Indigo
The process of aizome dyeing can create different shades of blue depending on the level of fermentation of the indigo plant leaves, the material in use, and the dyeing time. The dye solution itself appears black, but once the fabric dries, it takes on a unique shade of blue when exposed to air. Depending on the number of dips, the color of the blue deepens, with each shade given a unique name. Aijiro indigo is the lightest shade, closest to white, while noukon indigo is the darkest shade, closest to black.
Lasting Impressions of Japan
Before I close my story of Indigo, the lasting impression I have of Japan is that it is a nation of people on the move. Trains are always on time. There’s an overall sense that the Japanese strive to make things as pleasant and frictionless as possible. There is a genuine feeling of kindness, as manners and considerations are everyday encounters. I miss the ease and the custom of bowing to the other, an acknowledgment of “I see you.” The cities are incredibly quiet. Most, if not all, vehicles in Japan are electric. I found it delightful that the traffic lights chirp in bird song when they signal it’s safe for pedestrians to cross the street.
After returning to the States, I found our American way of life to be harsh and individualistic. I’ve heard this sentiment from friends who have immigrated to the US from other countries, too. I can return to Gujo Hachiman in memory, to its quiet, rural setting, a place where traditional indigo is still made to escape the harshness at home. Perhaps I will return one day. There is such beauty in life and art to be found everywhere you go in Japan.
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Last Sunday I pushed myself to get ready for my two upcoming exhibits this month. That stint involved framing three pieces (of considerable size) and mounting (gluing) story labels to quarter-inch thick white foam core and cutting them out with a large industrial X-acto blade.
All This May Not Sound Like Much. Yet, after four hours of standing, leaning over, using my hands in ways that are not the everyday, my hips were whining and my lower back wanted a date with a heating pad. Holding the body in tense anticipating of screwing things up and the shallow breathing that results, well, people, I gotta tell you this is physical labor. The idea of a hand massage almost brought tears.
A view inside Terra Kind Studio. Alas, a poor photo due to crappy lighting. Yet you can see many works have been framed and are ready for exhibiting this month! No blood was shed in the process.
Yet, everything was completed and for the most part, well done. That’s saying something as I’m not a handy person and I have no talent for working with glue. I remind myself no blood was shed.
All this is to say I started thinking about *GASP* Self-Care and all the feelings, opinions, and perspectives that “buzzword” evokes. I know it’s good for you but stay with me…
We’ve been hearing about “self-care” for quite some time now and it seems particularly directed towards women. From the beginning, I was suspicious. Was this yet another marketing campaign to drive women (a.k.a. consumer queens) to go out and buy more stuff so she can take care of herself? As if women have to be told to take care of themselves and/or have to stand up and fight for what is an enableable right.
I know I come from a place of privilege. I work for nobody but me. I have control (most of the time) over my own time. I get to do what I want to do (as long as it is fair for everyone around). And I do make a point to take care of myself. If I didn’t, I could not do the work that I do.
Self-care is about self-value, honoring your principles and what you hold dear. It’s realizing our mind and soul are contained in a needy human animal. Take good care of the animal and it does marvelous things for the mind and soul so you can go on to make great things.
kristin maija peterson
Being aware of your moment of NOW slows you down. It lets you focus and see all the amazing works that nature wants you to witness. Go and find yourself a good forest to wander about in.
With that, here are a few actions I consider and do as self-care that are, for the most part, totally free.
Sleep. It’s so obvious yet undervalued in our hyper-productive society. For me, sleep is an absolute imperative. A good 8 to 9 hours of it in a quiet, dark room. White noise optional. No screen time at least an hour before bed. While I can manage one night of poor sleep, too many nights in a row and I will become depressed and yes, I easily get sick if I don’t have proper sleep.
Water.Plenty of it. It keeps the body hydrated and the mind sharp. Yes, I probably use more toilet paper than I would like because of this practice but hey, I can ward off a headache by simply drinking water.
Walking.Hell, just moving. I spend a lot of time sitting to do my work and walking, taking the stairs, stretching, parking far from the entrance, any means that I can incorporate movement into my day, the better.
Meditation.A word heard more often than self-care! Many moan at its very mention. I didn’t think I could get my squirrel brain to do it either. Argh, it’s so boring! And then again, it’s not. It did take a few years until I could sit and focus on nothing but a mantra and breathing. There are mornings when it is a mind-fuck wrestling match on my cushion. But just 10 minutes that often runs longer (because I can) is a godsend for my anxious human animal to calm down. PLUS I gleam ideas and insights as I move out of a meditative state. Now it’s completely habit, like brushing my teeth. I can’t imagine life without meditation.
If I didn’t take care of myself, my tired frazzled brain wouldn’t notice this artistic arrangement courtesy of Mother Nature.
A few things I do to take care of the artist-me:
Learn New Skills. I am a big fan of SkillShare, books, extension classes and workshops, or just going down a rabbit hole with Google because I’m curious about something. These days it’s about botany, the names of plants and who is related to who, and other plant intrigues.
Artist Dates. A lot of people have heard of The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. It’s a timeless book that serves not just artists but anyone wanting to live a creative life. I swear to god that Artist Dates are a must. I particularly love going to other artists’ studios to talk about their work and going to art festivals for the same reason. I break the rule that an Artist Date should be going to or doing something you have not gone or done before. Regardless, I get so much inspiration from other artists it makes my heart swell.
Price My Work with Integrity.I know I price my work on the high-end for a lot of people. However, I know the level of work that goes into producing it. It takes me five to six hours every weekday, sometimes more on weekends for four to six weeks to complete one large-scale watercolor or graphite drawing. I use professional-grade materials and I frame my own work. I believe in the work, and its value, and this is reflected in the price. To price lower would be settling for less than I deserve.
Finding Out About Other Women Artists.Living or dead, women artists and their stories give me a continuum, a context for finding my place in the art world and in art history. Reading about what some of these women went through for their art is both humbling and yet empowering.
Your turn. What are your feelings about self-care? What does self-care look like to you? I heard someone say that going out and protesting for a good cause is a form of self-care for them. How radical is your self-care? Please share in the comments. Namaste.
I had just spent 3 weeks working on a watercolor based on a photograph I took back in 1982 when I was working as a waitress at Lutsen Resort during my college years. Discovering the photo of a shallow river bed glued into one of my sketchbooks, I must have seen something in how the leaves floated on the water, the arrangement of rocks, and the way the water moved through them enough to make me take a photograph and save it where I did. This would make a great piece to include in my River Divination series, or so I thought.
Wrong.
The watercolor became too brown. I should have stayed with the color palette I established ahead of time. Overall, it was too chaotic with no place to rest the eye. I should have applied my design sense to the composition. Maybe looking back into the past was not such a good idea. This was the second “failed” watercolor of the summer, both of which I spent way too much time on.
North Shore River Bed Detail No. 1North Shore River Bed Detail No. 2
Since I left my business as a graphic designer in 2020 to pursue fine art full-time, I was having a fairly high success rate in terms of the work. I felt good about what I was producing and it was work worthy of sharing and exhibiting. I had not prepared myself for the flops.
I Am Not Alone and Neither Are You.
I was recently reminded of the “failures” that other artists have made. For instance, when Pope Leo X forced Michelangelo to remove the scaffolding from the first section of the Sistine Ceiling, Michelangelo discovered it was all wrong. The figures were too small and the compositions were too crowded. Shit! I don’t know the Italian equivalent for shit, but I am sure there was a shit-storm. When Cezanne had a bad plein-aire day, he threw the “bad” painting in a tree where it could hang from a limb. Merde! (I do know the French word for shit.) I haven’t gone there…yet. I mean, cursing out popes or throwing paintings into trees. I was also reminded that watercolor paper does have two sides.
The Importance of Play.
How was I to rebound from a string of crappy work? Instead of diving into a new piece, (I’ve got ideas and plans for series work set to keep me busy for at least two years), I decided to give myself some slack and play. Giving myself time to play is a gift. For one, I am 60+ years old. I feel time ticking and that I have finite years left where I can physically paint and create. No time for play!
Stuck between sketchbooks on my work table are small-ish pieces of watercolor paper I’ve saved from trimming down large sheets of 300 lb Fabriano hot press watercolor paper. (My absolute favorite!) I saved them for a reason — to play and play without pressure.
For a while, I’ve been meaning to take a break from the large detailed work and just play using up those 5 x 7-inch watercolor sheets. In the last doomed watercolor (shown above), in the upper left-hand corner, I found a spark. Out of the flop came a little illustrated river story series. These are nothing special or serious, just studies and a perfect way to shake off my feeling of failure.
“River” is both an illustration and story series about a river exploited and dammed, the river suffers and everyone suffers along with it. With the removal of the dam, the river is left alone, regains its health, and soon the salmon return, too.
Remember Your Manifesto.
Back in 2009, I wrote and designed a series oftruths, the stuff for creatives, makers, and artists alike to live by. Originally I wanted to make large letterpress posters out of them. While the manifesto enjoys a very small fan base, I have yet to see the series have its day in the sun. Still, the manifesto proves useful for what I have been dealing with. It’s not a failure. It’s a prototype.
I’m also reminding myself it’s why it’s an art practice. Thoroughly dusted off, I am ready and eager to begin again.
YOUR TURN. I would love to hear your thoughts and experiences with failures. How do you deal with failure, artistic or otherwise? What did you learn by failing? Have good things resulted from your self-proclaimed flops? We all learn from one another so do tell in the comments.
ABOVE: This is a photo taken inside my studio. As you can see, I am a very tidy artist, even with work in progress.
Under my breath, I mutter that I am not a botanical or floral artist to no one in particular. When looking at my work, I’m certainly not a botanical artist. When looking at historical and present-day botanical paintings and drawings, I don’t think people would think of me as a botanical artist if they knew the precise definition.
These are lovely people and dear friends who think of me as a botanical artist. I don’t correct them. It’s human, we label. We like to place people into tidy categories, like filing cabinets and recipe books.
The truth is that the subject matter that interests me has to do with ecology, the environment, biodiversity, and climate change. These are what I try to depict through my art, accompanied by stories. It’s a work in progress, and I hope it leads me to become a better artist and storyteller.
I am thinking of the definition of an artist, too. I believe all people can be artists and are artists without knowing it. There was a time I fed into the idea that being an artist was an elite status — a gift bestrode to you by the gods. I don’t subscribe to this notion anymore.
Let me give you a definition of who I consider an artist. An artist is someone creative in their approach and open to ideas. They like to collaborate and value community. Making things, discovering things, or making something work better makes them feel alive. That pretty much accounts for most people.
I have been thinking a lot about identity, too. It’s a topic written and spoken about widely over the past two years (or more). I’ve been thinking about how important it is to acknowledge one’s identity for oneself. I think of it as a form of self-care. (I know, dear reader, self-care is a term dashed about and overused to the point that I cringe when I hear it mentioned.) In this case, the self-care I am talking about is taking care of one’s self-confidence, self-worth, and purpose.
Think about it. While it’s not your business to know what other people think of you, artist or otherwise, it’s essential that you know who you are and have the words for it.
I am not going to go into gender identity. I don’t have any authority or experience to offer other than I believe in the importance and significance of pronouns and people should be able to love who they love. Where I think acknowledging one’s identity for oneself is essential, women especially, artists, or otherwise, need to claim this.
I’ll give you how I identify myself as an example:
I am a post-modern ecological artist (thanks, Dad, for that. I’ll take it.) I am a woman artist, apprentice poet, writer, designer, and beauty hunter.
At one time, I was not brave enough to say any of these things for fear of the classic “who do you think you are?” response or having people look at me like I was nuts, puzzled, not knowing what to do with that information. Now at 61, I am claiming who I am. It’s time to shed that Scandinavian reservedness of “toe the line,” “don’t make yourself stand out,” or what? What will happen? The earth has not stopped routing on its axis and people are still talking to me. There is both bravery and vulnerability in being an artist and this is just part of the package.
I will continue to let people refer to me as a botanical artist until I find a gentle way to break it to them that I’m really not. It’s what they understand. It’s an entry point, a way for them to get to know my art. I figure, over time, they’ll refer to me as a post-modern ecological artist and the rest of it, too.
Another way to approach one’s identity I learned is rooted in poetry and storytelling,*George Ella Lyon’s “Where I’m From.” It’s a rich expression of telling who you are to others that invite exchange, connection, and understanding. We are a blend of many things and many experiences that shape who we are.
Now Your Turn.
I would love to hear how you identify yourself either as a human, as an artist, or as both. You can do this as I did in my example or as in George Ella Lyon’s “Where I’m From.” Totally up to you. I know we will all be enriched and inspired by the words you found to say “this is who I am.” Write your answers in the comments. I try and reply to all.
POSTSCRIPT: I first heard about “Where I’m From” through Springboard for the Arts. The second time I experienced “Where I’m From” in practice was through a recent live workshop I attended at the Minneapolis Center of Book Arts (MCBA) called Water Wayfinding and Cut-Paper with artist Cynthia Weiss and story facilitator Angie Tillges. Yes! MCBA is now officially back open as I write this!
Angie Tillges is currently working on the Great River Passage Initiative and Conservancy project.Cynthia Weiss’s exhibition, Mismatch/Memory/Refuge, is on display in the Outlook Gallery at Minnesota Center for Book Arts from March 25–July 3, 2022, viewable from the sidewalk along Washington Avenue and inside The Shop at MCBA. A must-see!
I originally did this illustration of a sleeping fox cuddled up with a young bunny. What are the odds of that happening in real life? Understanding the nature of foxes and those of rabbits, it seemed unlikely. Still, there is a story there. The illustration turned into a holiday card that year (2018) along with a story about The Tale of Bunny and Fox. A Beatrix Potter moment to be sure. The story was well-received (as was the illustration) by all those who received it by mail that year. Given the current climate in which we find ourselves, TheTale of Bunny and Fox deserves a replay. Its message is more timely than ever. Enjoy. And if you enjoyed this, please share.
The Tale of Bunny and Fox
We don’t know how these two unlikely companions came together. Perhaps Fox was abandoned or lost his way. Now he was alone and missing the play and romp of his littermates. As for Bunny, any number of things could have happened for as we all know rabbits lead a somewhat precarious life.
But what we do know is that both Bunny and Fox had an empty spot in their hearts they yearned to fill. After a sudden and surprise introduction, Bunny and Fox didn’t have preconceived notions about how the other would or should be as they had never been taught.
Instead, Fox learned to see through Bunny’s eyes and Bunny learned to see through Fox’s. They began to understand how they each perceived the world and in turn, deepened their perspective of the world.
We don’t know what will happen as Bunny and Fox grow older. For now, all Bunny knows is he always has a big red blanket to protect him and Fox knows he will always be comforted by the sound of Bunny’s little heart gently beating against his own.
When the day comes that something stirs deep inside, Bunny and Fox will know it’s time to part and have families of their own. And this is how it should be even though they had never been taught. They will go their own way, not with sadness as Bunny and Fox have seen life bring change. Yet they know one thing will never change. The gift of kindness Bunny and Fox have given each other will remain constant all the remains of their days.
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Nature Calls: My Monthly Studio Letter
Once a month, usually on a quiet Tuesday morning, I send a short note from the studio, show new work in progress, upcoming exhibits, things that are inspiring me, what's on my nightstand, and the occasional shop offer just for subscribers.
It's a small, unhurried letter. Very much like me.
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Terra Kind Studio Co. is the creation of Kristin Maija Peterson, a life-long visual artist, writer, art director, and recovering graphic designer.
“I write stories about of my work to give you a deeper connection and understanding of the natural world. These stories blend of art, observation, experiences, and science. As a self-proclaimed “Beauty Hunter,” I represent and celebrate the wild, messy, and misunderstood ecosystems that are either ignored, destined to be controlled, or developed for human consumption. There is beauty and awe to be found in unexpected places, in the natural chaos of things. I hope your visit here inspires you to find your own beauty and wonderment in the natural world.”
Be kind to everything that lives and especially be kind to yourself.
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