Hello and happy spring,
I hope this season has been treating you kindly so far.
Around here, things have felt equal parts thoughtful, colourful, and a little experimental. This quarter’s note has a mix of studio news, fresh finished work, and one creative rabbit hole I’ve been tumbling down lately around traditional art supplies and the strange pressure to save the “good stuff” for someday.
So whether you’re here for the artwork, the behind-the-scenes bits, or just a friendly creative check-in, I’m really glad you’re here.
A little bit of news
A fun little studio update. One of my retirement card designs is now available on Viing.
Viing is a UK-based online card company that creates digital group greeting cards for workplaces and teams, so people can celebrate things like retirements, birthdays, farewells, and other big moments together. Right now, I have one retirement card on the platform, and it’s really nice to see my work living in a space built around connection and celebration.
What's been shifting in the studio
Lately, I’ve been feeling clearer about the direction I want to take with my art, which feels exciting… and also a little intimidating, if I’m honest.
For a while, I’ve been trying to figure out how to make my art feel more product-ready without losing the personality that makes it feel like mine. I’ve had this quiet hesitation in the back of my mind, wondering if simplifying things, using fewer tools and layers, or aiming for a more repeatable process would make my art feel too polished or too controlled.
But lately, it’s starting to feel less like I’m stripping something away and more like I’m learning how to sharpen what’s already there.
A big part of that has been experimenting with more colour variation within my shapes, keeping the process playful, and finding ways to make pieces feel a little more natural while also being easier to build and repeat. I want my art to have charm and texture, but I also want it to function well for products, and I think I’m finally getting a better sense of where those two things can meet.
That clarity has also been shaping the categories I want to build into more intentionally. Greeting cards still feel like a natural home base for me, but I’ve been feeling more and more drawn to adjacent paper categories too, especially stationery and other giftable paper products.
So behind the scenes, I’ve been trying to think less in one-off pieces and more in mini product families. Collections that can stretch a little further. Artwork that could start as a card, but also grow into stationery, gift wrap, tags, or other paper goods.
It’s been energizing, but also a bit awkward in that very real way that change often is. Sometimes when you’re refining your process, there’s a weird in-between stage where you feel more clear than ever, but you’re still side-eyeing everything on your screen like, “Okay, but are we actually onto something here?”
Maybe that feeling is familiar to you as well.
Not everything has fully clicked into place yet, but I do feel like I’m working with a much clearer creative compass these days. And honestly, after a season of second-guessing, that feels like a meaningful shift and a meaningful update.
Brushes down
Here’s a peek at what I’ve finished lately. This batch has a little bit of everything: mini collections, greeting card designs, and a few quieter pieces that gave me a chance to slow down and try something a little different.
A lot of this work has been shaped by the direction I mentioned above, especially my focus on building art more intentionally in little families instead of only as one-off pieces. I’ve been thinking more about how artwork can stretch across cards, stationery, and other paper goods, while still feeling playful, colourful, and true to my style. Some of these were fresh new ideas, and some came from revisiting older directions with a clearer eye, which has honestly been really fun to see unfold.
Why I keep saving the good paper
Lately, I’ve been having a bit of a revelation about why I struggle so much to use traditional art supplies.
For a while now, I’ve had watercolours, markers, coloured pencils, sketchbooks, and all sorts of lovely supplies sitting nearby, fully visible and fully within reach.
And yet... I kept not using them.
After noticing that happening over and over, I started wondering why something I genuinely wanted to do felt so weirdly hard. Slowly, it started to click.
I think a lot of it comes down to fear. Not just fear of making bad art, but fear of wasting the supplies themselves. Which is a little funny when I say it out loud, because not all of these materials are even especially fancy. But in my brain, they still get treated like they’re reserved for Important Art Only.
When I work digitally, I don’t feel that same pressure. Digital art feels safer. I can sketch, test things, undo bad choices, move things around, and keep refining until everything feels just right. Which is great... but it also means I can polish a piece within an inch of its life. There’s less risk, but also fewer happy accidents.
And the funny thing is, I love happy accidents. I love the looseness and surprise that come with traditional tools. The textures, the imperfect marks, the little moments where the materials seem to have their own opinion. But even though I admire that kind of freedom, I’ve realised I haven’t really been giving myself permission to work that way.
Somewhere along the line, I started treating traditional supplies like they needed to be earned.
And I think part of that goes way back. Growing up, I didn’t really have nice art supplies. I drew on scraps of paper and loose-leaf paper, and I didn’t own a proper sketchbook until I was in my twenties. So I think part of me still carries that old scarcity mindset, where “good” materials feel rare, important, and too valuable to use casually.
Which is wild, because art supplies are literally meant to be used. That’s the whole gig.
Still, perfectionism has a sneaky way of showing up dressed as responsibility. It says things like, “Don’t waste that page,” or “Save this for a better idea,” and suddenly a sketchbook starts feeling less like a playground and more like a performance review.
So I’ve been trying to work against that.
One thing that’s helped is switching to smaller sketchbooks. Big pages make me feel like I need to create Something Worthy, which is a lot of pressure for one innocent piece of paper. I also bought a few black-covered sketchbooks on purpose because they feel less precious, so those have become my messy books for brainstorming, repeating the same thing over and over, and letting ideas be awkward while I figure them out. Then I have a few coloured-cover sketchbooks that feel a little more special, but even with those, I’m trying to be braver. No drafting with pencil, no overthinking, just straight in and see what happens.
The more I think about it, the more I realise this isn’t really about the supplies. It’s about fear. About permission. About unlearning the idea that every page has to prove itself before it earns the right to exist.
I’m still working on it, but even just understanding where that resistance comes from has made it feel a little less heavy.
Have you ever felt this way with your art supplies? Do you save the good paper, avoid the nice sketchbook, or get weirdly nervous about using materials you actually love? I’d genuinely love to know how you work through it.
Interesting finds
Faire | Forecast 2026 🔗
Pantone® | Fashion Color Trend Report For New York Fashion Week 🔗
WGSN | Key Colors 🔗
Jewel Branding | Key Icons: Spring & Summer 2027 🔗
Jewel Branding | Key Icons: Easter 2027 🔗
Wild Apple | 2026/2027 Art Licensing & Home Decor Trend Forecast 🔗
This season's question... |
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Do you also save the “good” art supplies for later, or is there another creative habit or fear you’ve been trying to unlearn lately?
Hit reply, I'd love to hear from you!
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Thanks so much for spending a little bit of time with me in the studio.
Whether you’ve been making things, thinking about making things, or just trying to get past one of those awkward creative in-between stages, I hope this little check-in reminded you that you’re not the only one figuring it out as you go.
Until next time, stay inspired and keep creating!
