People often imagine an artist’s life as one of constant inspiration — a spark of genius followed by a flurry of color and creativity. While there are certainly days like that, most of my time in the studio is a mix of discipline, curiosity, and a fair bit of sawdust or paint splatter. Every day brings its own rhythm, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
1. Morning in the Workshop
My days usually begin early, coffee in hand, with a quiet walk around my property in Shelton, Washington. The morning air and the light filtering through the trees often spark new ideas. Inspiration doesn’t shout — it whispers, and that quiet time helps me listen.
Once I’m in the workshop, I like to take stock of whatever project I left unfinished the day before. Sometimes it’s a painting drying on the easel; other times, a half-carved stone waiting for the next chisel mark. I don’t rush into the work — I ease into it, letting the day and the material decide where to begin.
2. Creating Without a Clock
Time behaves differently in the studio. Once I start working, hours can slip by unnoticed. Music, an audiobook, or even the sound of the wind outside becomes background to the rhythm of my work.
Each medium has its own pace. Paintings require patience — layers must dry, colors must settle. Stone carving, on the other hand, demands focus and strength. Clay sculpting sits somewhere in between, tactile and responsive. I move between them depending on my mood and what feels right that day.
3. The Midday Reset
By midday, I take a break — usually to grab lunch with my wife or check on the animals that share our rural home. Those small moments of connection and movement reset my perspective. When I come back to the studio, I often see things differently — a color that needs adjustment, a curve that could be smoother, or a new idea waiting to take shape.
4. Finishing the Day
As evening approaches, I like to tidy up the space. Cleaning brushes, sweeping wood shavings, or washing the clay tools feels like closing a chapter. The studio quiets down again, the day’s work resting on the table or drying on the shelf.
I often spend a few minutes just looking — not judging, just appreciating what was accomplished. Some days, progress is visible; other days, it’s simply a mental note or a new idea. Either way, it’s part of the process.
5. Reflection and Gratitude
At the end of the day, I’m reminded how lucky I am to live this life — to create, to explore, to keep learning. Art isn’t just what I do; it’s how I see the world. Whether it’s paint, stone, or wood, every material has something to teach me about patience, persistence, and beauty.