Balancing Art and Life: Finding Focus as a Working Artist in Seattle

Lately, the last couple of weeks have been busy—to say the least. The details of that will come later. Somewhere in the middle of it all, I took on a commission and thought, surely I can squeeze in one more piece.

thinking of Granada…

Well. It turns out my brain does not work that way.

I’ve realized (again) that I can’t focus on painting when there’s a long list of non-art deadlines hanging over me. Art deadlines? Fine. I work well under pressure when it’s just painting. But when it’s everything else—life logistics, responsibilities, all the things pulling at my attention—my brain refuses to settle.

the secret commission will be revealed June 20th!!!!

What I actually need is total freedom. Not in a grand sense, but in a very specific, day-to-day way. I need to be able to start first thing in the morning, tea in hand, and just begin. An hour in, something clicks and my brain is wired into the work. From there, I can step away—ten minutes, maybe an hour—but I can’t be pulled too far. No long walks, no big breaks. Just small pauses, never too far from the painting.

Kafka, Granada, Spain…soon to be finished

That rhythm matters more than I sometimes admit.

I’m working toward my feature show opening July 18th at Columbia City Gallery. Alongside the new West Seattle series of small watercolors, I’ll also be showing one of my older stone lithographs. It feels important to include it—to show how long this imagery has been part of my work. It keeps resurfacing every few years, just in a different medium.

I once drew the Triangle Bar in Pioneer Square—the Flatiron building down by the stadium—in a large, gritty stone lithograph. It’s about 3 by 5 feet, with a slightly twisted perspective. I made it in the mid-90s, before I even lived in Seattle. Funny how these places and images stay with me, waiting for their moment to return.

And the commission—it did get finished. But only once everything else was taken care of, and I had a full day, uninterrupted, to give it the attention it needed. That kind of space makes all the difference.

That second piece I thought I’d squeeze in?
Next week.

Writing this out, first thing in the morning, helps. It clears something. I’ve been meaning to get back to my sketchbook and journaling more regularly. That kind of free writing gets ideas moving—some that take shape years later, others that just become a layer in the work.

But all of it matters. It’s all part of what keeps me going, what keeps me making.

India, bits and pieces…

And now—back to the painting.