What My First, Second Saturday Taught Me

Last night was my first Second Saturday ArtWalk in my new studio, and—as I’m quickly learning seems to be the case with most things in this art journey—it wasn’t quite what I expected.

It was a slow night.

September in Florida is still very much September in Florida, and downtown St. Petersburg wasn’t exactly overflowing with art buyers. Talking with the other artists, it seemed to be a quiet night for everyone. There weren’t big sales happening up and down the halls.

And yet, I came home feeling like the night was a success. Because I'm starting to realize that sometimes the most valuable thing I bring home from an art event isn't a sale. It's information.

A Small Win That Didn't Feel So Small

I brought four of my new hand-painted journals to the studio.

I sold three. That got my attention.

These were something I started experimenting with recently—taking a really nice journal and turning the cover into a tiny original painting. I also tucked a little card inside explaining that each one is an original piece of artwork, painted by hand, and that no two are exactly alike.

People noticed the cards. They picked up the journals. They opened them. They talked about them. And they bought them. For me, that's a pretty clear message: make more journals.

It also reinforced something I've been thinking about as I build out the studio. Not everyone who walks through the door is looking for a large original painting. Some people want a little piece of original art they can take home—or give to someone they love—without making a major purchase.

Next month I'll have plenty more journals, and my hand-painted holiday ornaments will be making their debut too. I'm already envisioning one area of the studio devoted to artful gifts: journals, ornaments and small framed originals.

Sometimes an experiment tells you exactly what to do next.

This was a pretty exciting night for me!

But I Learned Something Else, Too

This was also the first time I've really shown my work in an urban environment. My studio is in downtown St. Petersburg. It's only a few miles from St. Pete Beach, but culturally those few miles can feel much farther.

I've painted Florida for years—the water, palms, skies, tropical landscapes and, more recently, loose expressive florals. Those subjects are genuinely part of what inspires me. But as I watched people wander through the studios last night, I started wondering:

What speaks to someone who lives downtown?

A lot of people popped into my studio. They looked around, smiled, sometimes said a few words and moved on. And rather than being discouraged by that, I found myself getting curious. Maybe some of them simply weren't my people. That's okay.

But maybe there's something for me to learn here.

Looking Outside My Own Studio

One of my favorite parts of the evening was getting to know more of the artists around me. We talked, visited each other's studios and even celebrated a fellow artist's birthday.

And naturally, I looked at the art. One thing surprised me.

Very few artists seemed confined to one specific subject matter. There were artists experimenting with different subjects, techniques and even styles. It reminded me that having an artistic identity doesn't necessarily mean painting the same thing over and over again.

Maybe the consistency comes from how you see something rather than what you're looking at. That thought feels particularly exciting to me right now.

What Would a City Look Like Through My Eyes?

I've spent a lot of time over the past few years thinking about finding my style. I've written before about realizing that “finding it” wasn't really the destination I once thought it would be.

Last night pushed that idea a little further. What would happen if I took the color, texture, loose brushwork and atmosphere I love—and pointed it toward something completely different?

A downtown street at dusk.

A row of colorful buildings.

Reflections on wet pavement after a Florida afternoon storm.

Or maybe an interior—a beautiful chair near a window, a vase overflowing with flowers, sunlight hitting a wall, artwork tucked into the scene.

Cityscapes. Roomscapes.

I don't know yet. And that's exactly what makes me want to try them. I'm not planning to stop painting the water or the flowers that I love. I'm certainly not going to reinvent everything based on one quiet September evening.

But I am going to experiment.

Maybe I'll start with a few smaller studies and see what happens. See what feels like me. See what people respond to. And most importantly, see what I enjoy painting.

That's What the Studio Is For

When I first got the opportunity to have this studio, I thought mostly about having a place to display and hopefully sell my work. I'm beginning to realize it may give me something even more valuable.

A laboratory.

My hand painted journals were a hit! More Artful Gifts to come next month!

Every month I get to put something new on the wall and see what happens. I can try a new subject. Introduce a new product. Move things around. Talk to visitors. Watch what they pick up. Notice what makes someone stop instead of continuing down the hall. And then I get to go home and make something else.

So yes, my first Second Saturday was quiet.

I didn't sell a big painting.

But I sold three little experiments that I almost didn't make. I made new friends. I spent an evening surrounded by artists. I learned something about the people walking through my studio.

And I left with a head full of ideas about what I want to paint next.

I'd say that's a pretty successful night.