Seasons, Stories and New Calendars
The season is shifting. Each day I notice something new. The angle of light. The colors of falling leaves. The sound of geese calling as they begin their journeys. I try to stay connected to the seasons. As a gardener, the wheel of the year directs so much of what I do. As a botanical artist, my inspiration is tied to nature and its cycles.
This has been a year of changes for me. Living in our house in the woods gives me a fresh perspective of each season. Everything is different and new. But that’s the thing I’m struck by every year, no matter where I’ve lived. The arrival of each season is at once familiar and also feels as if it’s happening for the first time. Maybe it’s just my sense of wonder being sparked by our beautiful, magical world.
With our big move I’ve been doing a lot of looking forward, dreaming and making plans for our home and property. But I think it’s valuable to look back, too. In November I’m celebrating 15 years of painting. I’ve accomplished so much over that time. And I’ve learned more than I ever imagined I would. About making art, yes, but also about creativity, about cycles, about life.
Big changes can spur our creativity, but they can also bring about a pause. For months this year I was too busy or preoccupied or exhausted to do as much art as I wanted to do. I felt a bit frustrated and down on myself, but then I remembered how important it is to be in this season instead of fighting it.
We are constantly cycling through seasons — the seasons of nature, but also our own seasons of energy and inspiration and ideas. It’s easy to disregard these cycles. Our society and life in our modern world expects constant motion, continual action and accomplishment.
But this isn’t how creativity works.
We need moments of quiet. Of rest. We need time to soak up inspiration and to let ideas slowly grow. Our motion isn’t constant — we move forward and backward. We get distracted and follow curiosity into unexpected and unplanned directions. And all the while life is happening, too. It’s messy and it’s beautiful.
I’m working on putting together a new class to help you nurture your creativity and to spark your inspiration after a break from making — whatever the reason. I’ll share more about this soon, but for now, I want to acknowledge how hard it can be to follow our creative paths, to have faith in our dreams. To be patient with the ups and downs.
As I look back at the last 15 years, I can see the visual story of my journey in the art I’ve created. Each year follows its own seasons and cycles, at once familiar and brand new. Over time, two projects have become part of the annual cycle of my art-making: desk calendars and tea towel calendars. They’re a fun tradition and a beautiful record of the seasons and my inspiration.
This is my 13th desk calendar:
One creative story that overlaps these two projects is my love of dahlias. Growing them and painting them.
Flowers from two of last fall’s dahlia paintings appear in both calendars.
(One is even on the cover of the desk calendar!)
And the tea towel’s collection of dahlias includes my most recent dahlia painting among all the other blooms.
I’m painting dahlias again right now. Fall leaves and dahlias. Another part of the seasonal cycle of my inspiration.
I don’t have a garden at our new home yet. At least not in the way I want to. But if I’m honest, I’m never without a garden. My home is filled with houseplants (another theme running through this year’s desk calendar). And I’ve tended a collection of containers outside, including one with dahlias. Grown from seed, those poor plants were stuck in their seedling pots for a long time before I did anything with them.
look at the tiny tubers forming in the soil!
Even so, they gave me flowers. And fed my inspiration.
Gardening is a good reminder of resilience. Of faith. Of patience.
This year’s desk calendar holds another story of patience, and a sneaky detour for my art — May’s viola illustration is one of my favorite pieces. It’s colored pencil, not watercolor. I worked on it slowly over time, flower by flower, sitting in my (now former) garden connecting with its plants.
There’s so much beauty in our stories. In our journeys. It’s easy to get caught up in the pace of daily life and forget to honor it.
One of my biggest goals moving forward is to travel my path at a slower pace. One which acknowledges and honors the messy process of creativity and allows for growth and curiosity, with all of their detours.
15 years ago as I built up my courage to pick up a paintbrush, I had no idea what the next 15 years would hold. If I were to see my life now — my art, my business, my woodland home — I would be amazed by how far I’ve come. I can only imagine what I’ll create over the next 15 years.
For now, I’ll sit in gratitude for my journey and for all I’m noticing in this fresh, new autumn.
I’m grateful for you, too, my friend, for being a part of this journey. Your support and encouragement mean so much.
Here’s to our beautiful dreams and taking the long way on our travels.
The 2026 Desk Calendars are now available in my shop.
The tea towels (and all of my other designs, updated with 2026 dates) are available on Spoonflower as fabric or as hemmed tea towels. I’ve also entered the new dahlia design in Spoonflower’s Tea Towel Calendars Design Challenge. Voting is going on now. I’d love to have your vote!
