Studio Notes

'Held', the first painting in Returning, didn't announce itself as a series. It was simply a space I couldn't stop thinking about. Something about the quality of presence in that image. The way it held both absence and welcome at once.

It began in the midst of what I now name burnout. Years of deep attention and care for everyone around me was catching up. I thought I was doing all the right things to care for myself but they were simply maintaining a level which, looking back, was totally unreasonable; of overachieving, perfectionism, people-pleasing, self-sacrificing. Within me was a tiny cry for refuge, quiet, solitude, space, freedom, peace, joy. The stress, combined with my age, meant confusing symptom chasing, a lot of money on supplements and bodywork practitioners, endless research on perimenopause, and soothing playlists that my husband can no longer stand, but were all my nervous system could receive — all to stay afloat, to maintain enough energy to get through each work day with little remaining for my marriage, friendships, or anything else. My consistent mindfulness practice meant I was deeply aware of the irony that my profession was supporting others' health and well-being, meanwhile I was becoming more and more exhausted, and disconnected from my Self, my relationships, creativity, and sense of purpose. I was filled with grief and didn't know why. How long could I go on like this? For what?

I was blessed to go on two 4-week vacations within five months (which included a mindfulness/yoga retreat) and I sincerely hoped these would be the solution to return to work with sustained energy and joy, yet they simply were not. And so, I paused. I listened. I really listened…to the loving part of me inside that knew it was time. Ego and Fear spoke loudly too, but I could now say, “No, I’m sorry, but this is enough. It is time to rest. To reconnect to your Self, to nature, to your own healing and joy.” I stepped away from work and arrived back in the studio. This is the medicine. This is where my lungs expand, healing unfolds, and magic returns.

I painted 'Held' slowly. And when it was done, I found I wasn't finished with the question it was asking.

That's how a series begins, I think. Not with a concept, but with a feeling you haven't yet fully understood.

Returning is not a series about burnout. It is a series about what becomes possible when we allow ourselves to stop.