Fall is here for real now. One of the things I like best about fall is the way my attention shifts to my houseplants when the weather gets too cold to be outside. You can see it in my art, too.

Sometimes a project comes along which is a complete joy. My collaboration with Kickapoo Meadery was one of those projects. This fall I worked with Roots and Refuge Farm on another.

A few times over the summer I mentioned working on a big commission. I even shared a sneak peek of one of the paintings.

Today I want to share the full story.

For me, springtime in the garden always means violas and pansies. They’re some of the first things to show up at garden centers and one of the first things to bloom in my garden.

Sometimes the universe nudges you forward when you’re not quite ready. This happened a few weeks ago when I checked Spoonflower’s list of upcoming design challenges and saw one featuring embroidery.

This week has been beautiful. Bright sunshine. The bluest skies.

There’s no mistaking that autumn is here, but it’s my favorite kind of autumn. And my garden is still blooming.

What a week it’s been.

Although I think they’re a good idea any time, when life feels heavy or dark, I find it helps to write a Joy List.

Last week a package arrived on my doorstep. I thought it was going to be some backordered art supplies. But the box was bigger than I was expecting. And it was heavy.

When I saw the label I couldn’t wait to get the box opened. It was my Minky Couture blanket!

This is my seventh summer in my current garden. It’s a bit hard for me to believe it’s been that long already. I’ll have to do a general post about creating this garden, but today I want to talk about roses.

This week is National Pollinator Week, its purpose to celebrate pollinators and bring awareness to how important it is to protect them. I spent a little time reading a bit more about pollinators (there are many more species of pollinators than just bees!) and paying attention to all the visitors in my garden these last few days.

These are my favorite days, dividing my time between my studio and my garden.

I’ve been unplugging as much as possible. And it feels good to be so focused. I’ve fallen in love, again, with my art. There’s so much to paint! Some flowers come and go in the blink of an eye.

May is steadily marching by and spring is unfurling a little bit more each day. The nest of baby grackles in the bushes behind our fence has already been vacated. And yet I’m impatient with spring’s progression this year. Maybe every year. But this year, especially so. Mostly I just want nice weather. Sunshine and warm air so I can walk barefoot in the garden and plunge my hands into the soil.

One of the things I love most about making and sharing art is forging connections around the beauty and joys of flowers. Over and over again my customers have shared their personal stories of certain plants or flowers.

I’ve been thinking about failure. About journeys. Curiosity. Ebbs and flows. Changes.

We’re constantly in a state of change. Sometimes the change is so slow, so gradual, we don’t notice. Other times we’re faced with bigger changes. Or decisions we have to make which will lead to change.

Another year has drawn to a close. Another decade, too. On January 1, 2009 I wrote in my journal: “2010. Wow. Seems so futuristic.” And here we are in 2020, even more futuristic-sounding.

But I don’t want to jump into 2020 without spending some time considering 2019 first.

Dahlias! Oh, dahlias. They’re one of those swoon-inducing flowers you’re sure to see when scrolling around on Instagram or Pinterest. Other than sunflowers, they have the biggest flowers I know.

So far my Growing Inspiration posts have been about flowers. Of course I love flowers. I love growing them and painting them. I love cutting them for the house and watching the butterflies and bees and hummingbirds visit them in the garden.

But one of my very favorite things about the garden is eating from it.

In my first Growing Inspiration post I wrote about nasturtiums. If there’s a flower I’ve drawn and painted more than the nasturtium, it might be the viola.

They always have a place in my garden.

I’ve been spending as much time as possible in my garden.

The dogs love being outside, too. During the week Jude goes with Matthias to his shop and Charlie stays home with me until I need to leave for my job at the library.

All week long I’ve been painting whirly birds.* That’s what I used to call maple seeds when I was young.

At this time of year when the seeds come helicoptering to the ground it’s hard not to feel a surge of childlike joy. I walk around with my eyes to the ground trying to find the most interesting ones.