The Things We Come Back To

For a long time, I thought becoming an artist was something I had missed my chance at.

As a kid, I was always drawing. I filled sketchbooks without thinking twice about it because creating was simply part of who I was. Somewhere along the way, though, life became more about figuring out what I was supposed to do than making time for what I loved.

Like many people, I spent years searching for the "right" path. I immersed myself in academia, explored several different careers, and eventually found myself working as a freelance graphic designer because it was the closest I thought I could get to being an artist. I genuinely enjoyed design and learned so much from those years. It taught me how to think visually, communicate ideas, and refine my creative eye.

But there was always a nagging feeling that something was missing.

As a designer, I spent my days helping bring other people's ideas to life. It was meaningful work, but I realized I missed creating simply because I wanted to. I missed following my own curiosity. I missed making something that didn't begin with a brief, a deadline, or someone else's vision.

Even then, I never completely stopped creating. I would pick up a sketchbook every now and then or start a small painting, but I always treated those moments like something I'd get back to once I "figured out my life." As if we can ever have everything figured out!

Eventually I realized life doesn't really work that way.

There isn't a day when everything is perfectly organized and someone hands you permission to pursue the thing you've always wanted to do.

You have to decide that it's worth making space for.

So that's what I did.

Coming back to painting has been both exciting and humbling. In many ways, I feel like a beginner again and at times my hands feel a bit unsteady. I'm learning new techniques (hello oil painting!), making plenty of mistakes, and creating paintings that don't always match the image I had in my head.

But I'm also rediscovering something I hadn't felt in a long time: the simple joy of making art for its own sake.

There is something deeply satisfying about watching a blank canvas slowly become a landscape. About mixing colors until they feel just right. About spending an afternoon focused on nothing except the next brushstroke.

I'm beginning to realize that creating art was never something I truly left behind.

It was simply waiting for me to come back.

That's what Ember Chapel Studio represents to me. It's more than a business or a portfolio of artwork. It's a commitment to stop treating creativity as something I'll get to later and to start building a life where making art isn't squeezed into the margins—it becomes part of the center.

I don't know exactly where this journey will lead. I hope it leads to becoming a full-time artist. I hope these paintings find homes where they're loved for years to come. I hope this studio continues to grow.

But for now, I'm simply grateful to be painting again.

Sometimes the dream isn't about becoming someone new.

Sometimes it's about becoming the person you were always meant to be.

- xo, Bethany