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A Little Rehash: My First Art Fair, Statesboro, GA
Good news: I won the “Honorable Mention” award! Unlike the other prizes, it didn’t come with any prize money, but it did give me a free application and booth if I return to the 2026 festival in Statesboro. I’ll take it :)
My favorite part was meeting other artists. I told them how it was my first fair, and I was open to any and all insights. Ceramics artists, copper artists, and painters alike kindly shared their valuable tips.
I learned about other fairs I might do well at, how the art market ebbs and flows, ways to improve my booth setup, and how to approach fairs with the right mindset. The standout advice was to pick cities where I think my audience lives, which I hadn’t considered before.
Jenefer Heron, a kind and talented painter who exhibited at the fair (and won Best All Around, which came with a $2000 prize!), pointed out how her folk art might do better in a small town like Statesboro. She suggested my art might perform better in touristy, coastal, urban, or more extravagant towns. I hadn’t thought about this yet. Of course, it’s not a black-and-white concept, and there are always outliers, but it made sense the more I thought about it.
All in all, the experience has me excited about my next fair in Blowing Rock in May at Art in the Park—a special place I've been going since I was little where I think my art will resonate. If you’re in the area, come and visit me on May 17th from 10 to 5 pm!
Third Time’s a Charm
I’m back at 24 South Coffee for the third year in a row. They have plenty of space for both large and small originals to adorn their walls. Considering they are a coffee shop where people typically only spend money on drinks or pastries, 24 South actually sells my originals really well. They are located in the heart of downtown and are the go-to spot for both locals and tourists. I’m grateful to be invited back for my third round! Come pay the girls a visit if you get the chance (the baristas and the girls in the paintings)! I’m here till the end of May!
Studio Update: I love portals.
a painting in progress!
I’ve brought this up before, but do you remember the highlighter vision you had as a kid? The world felt new and fresh, colors were crisper, and spaces for kids were like crayon boxes. I do think the world was more colorful back then (for me, I'm talking about the early 2000s). Some color trends, both commercially and residentially, have migrated toward all-encompassing greys and whites, which seem to swallow up and drown out potential rainbows.
If you're interested, here is an Architecture Digest article unpacking why Gen Z loathes the "Millenial Grey" movement. I am not alone in the craving for color. And here's a Medium article exploring the decline of color and the effects of a greying world.
Color trends and patterns have been undulating throughout history, just like all other trends. A part of me doesn't like the idea of “color trends" and the over-dominating effect these concepts have on the built world around us. Plus, the swiftness with which we move from any trend in the 2020s is too abrupt and leads to waste. And too much of one thing, well, it's too much.
Brands are transitioning from multicolored, multi-faceted logos to simple, monochrome versions. Patterned curtains in kitchen windows and funky wallpapered rooms seem harder to find.
Two simple visual examples of simplifying designs.
While there is a little less color and spunk behind trends and public-facing spaces, the muted color movement hasn’t erased the spectrum of colors we see in nature, our homes, or our relationships. Moments of high color saturation and fun elements definitely still exist.
But the color shift I’m referring to isn’t just about changes in logos or a bend toward minimalistic interior design trends. There’s far more to add to the color conversation than trends, branding, and marketing. While these external factors are the most obvious culprits when it comes to blaming something for my loss of "highlighter vision," the real change I’m most curious about is more internal—a change that began at the boundary of childhood and adulthood.
I have to look harder to be awed by color. I want to do this… it isn't a burden—but I understand I have to look and really look. I want colors in spaces, art, and nature to make me think. To stop me in my tracks and make me stand there for a second longer. I make it a point to spot colorful things that catch my eye. I think about what feeling coincides with what color and internally log it into my mind's color-feeling catalog.
I feel passionate about keeping color a constant in my environment, internally and externally.
Something deep down I want to achieve with my art-making process is to reconnect with my strong reactions to color as a young girl. The feeling and memory I attach to colors inspire the colors of my work.
A few weeks ago, spring arrived, and my eyes finally thawed out from under the browns and greys of winter. Pinks, purples, bright greens, and whites! The crickets buzz and chirp their ballad again when the sun goes down. I wish they could hum all winter, but it makes the opening of the spring concert that much more special. Besides nature, I know that when I go to strange, eclectic antique stores or even the gas station, I’ll find color combinations that make me stop and think. If I just zero in on how the Gatorades are aligned or how the candy wrappers all work together to create a puzzle, there’s something magical there. Or when I look at my collection of favorite artists’ works, it’s like jumping into a bag of jelly beans.
I know where to go to get my color battery charged up.
I’ve always carried my inner child’s bright, rainbow memories into my color choices while painting. Color, just as much as the subjects I want to create, permeates my mind daily. And I love it when I run across a new, exciting tapestry of color.
In light of contributing to this color conversation in a way that's meaningful to me, I want to share some insights and memories I’ve attached to different shades along the way.
Spring is HERE.
Lately, Wisteria has made its annual debut in our yard and around Wilmington. It’s everywhere. I love the contrast of the lavender petals against its silvery, grey, twine-like branches. The droopy clusters of petals look like the juiciest grapes dangling from above. While I admire the beauty, I remember that it’s a shame that Wisteria is often invasive.
The wisteria growing in my front yard and a pollen-inspired portrait on paper, sold to someone in Wilmington :)
The yellow pollen also came in HOT this year. It never fails to let us know it’s arrived as it confettis off, spreading the brightest, most beautiful mustard yellow across the car windshield, patio furniture, mailbox, and anything else left outside. If it didn’t make us sneeze, I would be more thankful.
The Color Game
I have this game called Hues of Color, where players try to describe a color in one or two words without using descriptors like “light” or “dark” or, of course, the color itself. It might sound easy at first, but then, when you look at the color in the surrounding sea of similar shades, it becomes much harder to differentiate. I think it’s easier to wrap a memory, feeling, or inside joke into it to help telepathically guide your group of players.
I already play this game on a daily basis, but without the board. I often see someone as a color. Like my Aunt Tamsen is a rich, forest green. My sister Savannah is the most beautiful, vibrant orange. Jack is amethyst purple.
Back to the color game: The only time I’ve ever guessed someone’s color correctly was when I found the perfect pink color Jack described as “Ballerina.” We rejoiced! It feels really fulfilling when someone understands the exact shade you're referring to.
The Red Car
I drive a bright, cherry red car, a.k.a “Flaming Hot Cheeto” (but “Cheeto” for short). A few years ago, I had a red epiphany as I packed my bright red roller suitcase into Cheeto. With my red leggings on, paired with my red winter Patagonia puffy jacket, I stepped out of my car at the gas station. People must have been looking at me thinking, “She really likes red.” Everything in my vicinity was red. Not just red, but the brightest version of red possible—maraschino cherry red. If anyone did notice, they were correct! Red is my favorite color. I often wear my favorite red sundresses as I drive Cheeto around town, thinking about how I am an ambassador for the color red. LET’S GO TEAM RED!
I Think Textures Are Colorful Too
From elementary to high school, I loathed taking tests in tiled classrooms and swore I would make better grades if the floor were carpeted. It didn’t matter what kind of carpet, I just needed carpet. I scored much better on the SAT than on the ACT, and you can guess which test came with tiled floors. I think about that idea I held onto so tightly, and it still makes total sense. I was onto something. Textures seem to carry as much life and mindset into a space as color does. Certain textures fit certain actions, just like certain colors suit certain areas better than others.
But textures are also colors themselves if that makes sense.
To me, a super soft mattress is the color light pink. Scratchy sweaters are maroon. Crystal trinkets, chandeliers, or tables are sapphire. So, soft feels like light pink, scratchy feels like maroon, and hard and crystalline feels like sapphire.
More on Texture and Color in Space
When I was teaching at UNCW, I would think about how the cool, stale blue cinderblock walls; buzzed grey carpet; and harsh white overhead lights created an overstimulating classroom environment. I often kept the lights off and opted for whatever sunlight would give my room. I thought that if I could bring in lamps, hang fairy lights and colorful art, and lay down fuzzy, warm-colored rugs, the students would enjoy writing in class more. They might even enjoy English as a subject more.
Side note: at the end of every semester, I'd take my classes out to the big lawn on campus, and we'd have a pizza party and play games together. That was always a bitter-sweet day. I really miss my students and the silliness they brought into my days.
When I enter any more controlled spaces, I think about ways to bring more color in and what effect the change might have. I’m also concerned with rounding out edges and introducing fluffy elements into homes with sharp, glassy-cornered furniture. The sharpness of some places makes me feel less welcome to stay and relax.
Just like how the sterile, white cabineted, latex-smelling doctor’s office makes me nervous, a beach house with nostalgic shell-patterned couches and eclectic sailboat lamps makes me feel far away from to-do lists. And an imperfect, lived-in home with natural mess lets me know the house is, in fact, a home!
My Paintings
“So colorful” is a phrase I often hear when people look at my art. It was the crowd favorite at my latest event, the Statesboro Festival of the Arts. Many people also said it might be “too much” for their home, but they thought they were pretty. I always tell them they'd probably feel overwhelmed in my house. And it’s true. Aside from the paintings stashed on the walls and in the hallway (my house is my home, studio, and storage all in one), the rugs, lamps, furniture, and trinkets all come together to create a whirlwind of hues. It’s a small home, so the colors have less room to crawl around and disperse.
I get attached to certain paint colors every month or two, but I must admit I am also limited by the colors I have on hand and want to mix with. The paint I stock dictates much of what actually happens on the canvas. But since lately, I keep a well-rounded army of paint soldiers at my disposal, I have access to the full rainbow.
The beginning of 2025 has felt entirely pink, both inside my body and on my paintings. In January, I fell in love with fluorescent magenta and pink.
Last autumn, dark purple had her moment.
I’ve dipped into long chapters of full phthalo blue and little snippets of sunflower yellow.
After a few months under the shade of one color tree, I start to miss the other trees and have to leave.
Right now, I feel like I've really missed blue. I keep thinking of painting light blue girls in white bloomers in dreamland scenes surrounded by Dr. Seuss-like trees.
I followed my desire for blue and created "Pluto," a 72" x 72" acrylic on canvas painting. I really want to find a public space to hang her. So, if you know of anywhere looking for a large painting, let me know :)
I like exploring the various phases of colors and compositions my work undergoes. I don’t entirely know how the colors show up in such prominent ways, but I do know that I will constantly be changing, as will my art.
Purple
My mom started a paint-your-own-pottery-studio in Charlotte, NC called “Dish It Out.” Inside her stores, all of her walls were painted a bright lavender, just like Wisteria.
When I was little, I remember asking her, “Why purple?” She said this shade of purple inspired creativity in people. I really loved that answer. Ever since, I’ve been thinking about why people pick certain colors for posters, movie covers, books, decor choices, walls, paintings, outfits, infographics—everything. And why certain colors live in certain places. Flags, movements, representations, symbols, feelings, moods, trends—everything.
Color Critic
I’ve been critiquing people’s choices and arguing—in my head—how other colors might better suit brands, objects, ideas, and so forth. One of my favorite things to do while shopping is critique product packaging and think of ways I could better represent whatever the sellable object or idea is.
I do it while driving—looking at billboards or business wraps on cars. I also do it when I get an invitation or see a cat food commercial. I especially go hard when I’m in an art store or watching animated movies and shows. I've always dreamed of being involved in creative meetings to develop Pixar or Dreamworks characters and settings.
It’s also impossible for me to look at a website without analyzing it. I examine everything from word choice, page organization, drop-down menu titles, images—all of it. That’s my inner Technical Writing side. Since I can easily project images in my head, I can see my revisions in my mind, including changes to color, font, and composition. I’d say I’m pretty good at it! But I’m biased.
Colors are obviously way more than just colors.
Colors carry so many valuable, exchangeable memories, smells, feelings, and lives within them.
When I look back specifically at my paintings, I see that the colors carry a timeline with them. I can picture how I felt while creating each painting and what stage of life I was in. The same goes for the colors I see around me every day. I viscerally feel colors, which largely affect the undertones of the space around me.
I have a feeling I’ll be on a color hunt for the rest of my life. I'm seeking to continually be in awe of color and the world around me. Simultaneously, my passionate feelings around color have rooted my brain on a quest to revise or celebrate and commend all human-made visuals around me.
To end our color conversation, I want to share some more little random color deposits.
I remember when I first got the fluffy white rug for my studio. I treated it like a napkin for my paintbrush, and within a month, it was already submerged in color.
So, carpet floors are better for taking tests. I think they also aid in my painting process. And keeping my rental security deposit :)
My Dinner Plate, brunch at Taylor's house, Bullfrog Corner in Southport, Lilypads in Naples, FL
I really enjoyed writing this letter. It's not serious, urgent, or truly that "newsworthy."
But to me, it's something I could talk about all day.
Some of my thoughts and newsletters are shared only with subscribers, making them extra special and exclusive. So be sure to subscribe so you can read all the letters :)
