A new chapter, a bold mural, and morning cuddles
First, a heartfelt thank you to everyone who answered the recent market research survey. Your insights were generous and grounding, helping me see my work through your eyes in ways I couldn’t on my own. And I’m happy to share that the giveaway winner is Jennifer Mauldin!
July has been a month of openings, some loud, some so quiet you could almost miss them if you weren’t paying attention. Growth doesn’t always arrive with fanfare. Sometimes it shows up as a room full of strangers who feel oddly familiar. Or a mural you weren’t looking for. Or two small bodies curled in your lap, convincing you the rest of the world can wait.
Here’s what I’ve been holding lately:
- Art In Progress: Stepping into the San Diego Artist Incubator, and what it means to find my people
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Creative Perspectives: A Carlsbad street mural that reminded me why public art belongs to all of us
- Swilshot of the Month: Morning time with Banjo and Bindi, and the luxury of doing nothing but being
Art In Progress
Stepping into a season of growth
Last week I stepped into a virtual room with twenty nine other artists, each of us carrying our own mix of nerves and ambition. This was the first gathering of the San Diego Artist Incubator, an initiative by the City of San Diego and You Belong Here, and for me it felt less like starting something new and more like coming home after a long time away.
Since I started my art brand, my creative practice has been mostly solitary. Me, my paper, the hum of the studio. Now, there is a shared table. Conversations about visibility and sustainable practices. Quiet nods when someone talks about why they make what they make. The comfort of being understood without needing to explain.
The eight weeks ahead promise a lot, foundations of business, clarity of voice, building work that lasts, but it is the undercurrent of belonging I am most drawn to. A reminder that while creativity asks for solitude, it also needs community to stay alive.
If you have ever carried a dream alone, I hope you find your version of this, a circle that makes the work lighter, the vision sharper, the journey less lonely.
Creative Perspectives
When public art becomes personal
A few weeks ago, while house sitting in Oceanside, Valentina and I wandered into Carlsbad without much of a plan. The afternoon was warm, the kind of light that makes you linger. On the main street, we stopped in front of a mural, so vivid it felt like it might hum if you stood close enough.
It turned out to be by Snyder Art, whose work winds through the area in bold shapes and colors, unmissable and unapologetic. What I love about street art like this is the way it exists outside permission. No ticketed entry. No polite gallery whispers. Just art, in the open air, woven into the fabric of daily life. You can see more of their art in their instagram account.
It is a kind of generosity, to let beauty and expression live where anyone might stumble across it. And maybe a quiet defiance too.
Swilshot of the Month
A single snapshot of a moment I’ve been savoring lately
This section used to be called “Mindful Moments,” a space where I often shared thoughts and quotes that inspired me. Lately, my art and my own practice have been asking for something different. As I reflect on why I create, I keep coming back to this truth: I want to help people pause. To slow down. To reconnect with a memory, with a feeling in the body, with a small moment that feels whole in itself. Inspired in part by Kate Northrup’s idea of “full sensational living,” I have been leaning into capturing those moments from my own life, little sensory rich snapshots that remind me that small moments matter, and that presence itself is enough. That is where “Swilshot of the Month” comes in, a playful nod to my artist name and a practice of catching those moments before they slip past.
This month’s swilshot takes me back to that same Oceanside stay. Mornings on the patio, sun cutting across the tile, journal open but mostly ignored. Banjo and Bindi, the Boston Terrier sisters we were caring for, would climb into our laps like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The weight of them. The soft exhale as they settled. The way Banjo rested her head on my open notebook, as if to remind me that the page could wait.
It is hard to name the exact alchemy of those moments. But they slowed me. Reminded me that connection often needs nothing more than presence. That art, at its root, is the same, it begins in noticing, in letting yourself be changed by what is right in front of you.
I have started tagging these moments as #swilshot on Instagram, little frames of life worth lingering in. You are welcome to join me there, or better yet, to start your own practice of catching them before they slip past.
Thanks for being here. For reading, for looking, for making space for this kind of noticing. If you are curious about what has been emerging in the studio lately, you can always find it at swilarts.com or in my daily work on Instagram.