A watercolor artist’s career journey.
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.
I worry about all small businesses and how they will manage over the next few months. To me, small businesses are really about someone’s dream.
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.
I Don’t Have a Hobby. How watching the birds became a narrative for my art practice.
