As the snow melted and the days slowly lengthened, something unexpected happened in the quiet morning hours I’d set aside for painting.

My little watercolor ritual - just twenty minutes, a brush, and a cup of coffee, began to feel less like a challenge and more like a rhythm. Like breath. Like something I didn’t have to think about anymore, only return to. And in that small but beautiful shift, something bloomed.

From Kitchen Corners to Garden Paths

In March, I found myself drawn to soft, familiar comforts. My “In the Kitchen” series was filled with jam jars, teacups, honey pots, and wooden spoons—simple, cozy things that felt like home. The kind of objects you don’t always notice, but that carry the quiet warmth of everyday life.

Then came April, and with it, a shift in tone. My palette brightened, my brushstrokes loosened, and suddenly the pages of my sketchbook were filled with sprigs of rosemary, packets of seeds, and delicate garden blooms. The whole month felt like a deep inhale—fresh, floral, and full of life.

Each morning, I still sat with the same cup of coffee. But now there was birdsong through the open window and the scent of spring in the air. The rhythm of the seasons had made its way into the rhythm of my work, and I let it lead me.

Creativity as a Constant Companion

It’s been nearly six months since I began this journey, and I can feel how the practice has softened me. Painting each day doesn’t feel like a task—it feels like a gift. A small window of stillness. A quiet invitation to pay attention to the world around me.

Some mornings, I sit down with a clear idea. Others, I let the brush guide me. But always, I finish feeling just a little more grounded and grateful.

One of my favorites this season? A little series inspired by Saturday mornings at the farmer’s market—girlfriend jeans, a Breton stripe, my beloved straw sunhat, and the magnolia tote that’s been with me for years. Painting those scenes felt like capturing a ritual I’ve come to treasure: slow walks with my mom, bags filled with herbs and vegetables, and the quiet joy of supporting local growers. A simple reminder that the everyday is often where the beauty lives.

Letting the Seasons Shape the Story

What I’ve come to love most about this project is how it mirrors the rhythm of the seasons—not just outside my window, but in the pace and energy of each passing month.

Winter was about staying warm and close to home—finding comfort in quiet routines while the world outside lay still and snow-covered.
Spring brought fresh energy. I found myself preparing the garden, tidying, dreaming, imagining what might bloom—in the soil and on the page.
And now, as I head into summer, my painting is shifting again. This season feels brighter, more celebratory. A time of birthdays, backyard blooms, red-white-and-blue palettes, and long, lazy days where time stretches gently.

I don’t always know what will bloom next in my sketchbook—but that’s the joy of it. I keep showing up, one small painting at a time. And that’s enough.

Want to Follow Along?

You can see the full watercolor journey on Pinterest: Daily Watercolors • A Year of Painting Or you can check some of my monthly painting here.

And every Friday, I share my favorite pieces from the week in my From the Studio series over on Instagram—just a soft little celebration of color, creativity, and the joy of showing up for something you love.