Happy Winter Solstice to you.

It’s the longest night of the year and the official beginning of winter (though around here it’s been feeling like winter for a few months now).

This has been a chaotic week. Or maybe I should say, my studio is in chaos. I’ve been filming my next Skillshare class and somehow my studio always ends up looking like a small tornado has passed through when I’m filming. Having my sewing table and ironing board set up in the room hasn’t helped matters.

What are your barriers to creativity? What keeps you from making or doing on a regular basis? A lack of:

• time?

• space?

• money?

When I first started writing a blog and named it My Giant Strawberry one of the things that appealed to me about that name was how it spoke of my big dreams. Back then I had a lot of dreams, but I never imagined I would begin painting or that painting would become a main focus for me.

For a while now I’ve been in a weird place in my art journey. Knowing that I need to change, or am on the cusp of change, but not knowing how to do it or what that change is supposed to look like. I know I mentioned it last month.

This morning there is a blanket of snow over everything. When I checked the thermometer it said 23. And yet I have more energy and feel more inspired today than I have for a long time because the SUN is shining.

We’ve been having cold nights for a while now. We’ve even had snow. Except for a few hardy growers, my garden is finished for the year.

At the end of the season (and in truth, even during the season) I’m looking forward to next year’s garden.

Last week the weather shifted dramatically from summer to full-on autumn. Suddenly the days were cold. Dark. Wet. I layered on sweaters and hats and scarves. We turned on the furnace and brewed pot after pot of hot tea.

I felt lethargic, melancholy. It was hard to get out of bed in the morning. I made soup and baked bread. I wrote Joy Lists. But nothing seemed to help. I was uninspired and discouraged in my art, too. All I wanted to do was snuggle beneath my quilts and crocheted blankets to wait for the sun to come out again.

Do you (regularly) schedule time for doing nothing or for projects that don’t have a specific end result? Do you put “play” or “rest” on your to-do list?

If you’re anything like me, probably not.

When you're learning how to do something or if you're building up a business, it's important to focus your energy in one direction.

When I first started teaching myself to paint I didn't do that.

A friend recently mentioned she was curious about how I use my garden and the things I grow in it. Her question got me thinking.

She's right, it's interesting to learn how other people use their outdoor spaces. And I love seeing garden bouquets that combine unusual plants and flowers and reading garden-fresh recipes.

I talk a lot about the fact that my garden inspires my art, but I don't really explain how that happens.

Starting this new blog has been so energizing. Although a fresh start wasn't my intention when I moved to blogging on my website, it's been a surprising consequence. The thought of having a fresh space to craft into whatever I want has filled me with ideas. I'm excited to share some new posts with you. But first I wanted to talk a bit about blogs and blogging.

Do you keep a sketchbook? Right now I have nine sketchbooks on the go, which might be a bit overkill.

But each book has a different purpose. They're different sizes and different types of paper. One of them is nearly filled and two I recently started for very specific projects -- one dedicated to color and the other as a garden journal.

I think one of the reasons I have so many different sketchbooks is that I've been chasing the myth of the Perfect Sketchbook.

Hello, and welcome to this new blog space. My old blog served me well for almost 8 years, but now it's time for everything to live under one roof.

I'm delighted to have you here with me!

These summer days have been filled with so many little joys. And so much creativity. Somehow creativity comes more easily during these long, barefoot days.