This piece was a really heavy one for me to carry, and honestly, painting it felt like finally being able to breathe.
For a long time, I knew something in my business needed to change. Last year through this spring, I kept feeling this deep pull to go all in on my fine art prints. I wanted to create art again. I wanted to be home more. I wanted my business to feel like me.
And with all of that, I was terrified.
I was scared I would disappoint my retail and wholesale customers. I was scared to walk away from product lines I no longer felt passionate about. I kept wondering if I was making a huge mistake and my entire business would come crashing down (I knew that was a risk).
So I spent a lot of time outside as nature is where I always feel the most grounded and like myself. I walked, journaled, sat quietly, and tried to get honest with myself about what I actually wanted.
My business was growing quickly, but the growth came with 10 to 15 work trips a year, constant inventory stress, and more SKUs than I could keep up with. In my heart, it just didn't feel right anymore.
I wanted a different life. I just had to find the courage to admit it.
And then the blue herons started showing up.
There is something about a blue heron that has always captivated me. They are so still and grounded, even when everything around them is moving. They feel strong without needing to prove anything.
Last September, I was in Tennessee for a trade show and had a few extra hours, so I went to Shelby Farms Park (such a beautiful place, by the way!). I sat there pouring everything into my journal, all the fear, uncertainty, and emotions I had been carrying.
And then a blue heron appeared.
I just watched it.
In that moment, it felt like permission. Permission to say out loud what I already knew. Permission to take the risk. Permission to trust myself.
Months later, when I finally made the official announcement about the direction of my business, I was an absolute nervous wreck. I hit send on the email, posted it to social media, and immediately had to walk away.
I grabbed my dog and went for a quiet walk around our neighborhood, a place where we never see blue herons.
And then one flew directly over my head.
It felt like this little reminder that I was going to be okay.
And then came the response from my retail & wholesale customers. The love and support were more overwhelming than I could have imagined. I poured my whole heart into explaining why I was making this change, and people truly understood. They encouraged me. They supported me. They reminded me that choosing a path that feels right isn't something to apologize for. 💛
So when I sat down to paint this piece at the end of last year, I wanted to capture that feeling of peace that this bird gave me.
I kept the colors soft and true to the heron's natural tones, but when you look closely, you'll see that the entire body is made up of thousands of tiny, intricate painted flowers.
It took so much patience to build those layers and textures, and honestly, the process was incredibly therapeutic.
This isn't just a painting of a blue heron to me.
It's a reminder of the moment I finally slowed down enough to hear myself. The moment I chose to trust my own path, even when I couldn't see exactly where it was going to lead.
And maybe that's what I hope this piece gives you, too.
A little permission to slow down.
To listen to that quiet voice inside you.
And to trust that choosing the path that feels true to you doesn't mean you're making a mistake. 💛
