When one chapter closes ..

Last week, Alice and I recorded the final episode of the Art Juice podcast. (You can find the episode link at the bottom of this email).

After six years and hundreds of episodes, we both felt it was time. The energy we once had was fading, and we knew we didn’t want to keep going just for the sake of it.

Letting go of something that’s meant so much — not just to us, but to so many of you — was emotional. It still is. But at the same time, it absolutely feels like the right decision.

And as one thing ends, a lot of other things are shifting too.

I’m coming to the end of a difficult season in my personal life — a time marked by shock, grief, stress, and big, painful questions. Slowly, I’m finding my footing again. I'm letting go of things that have been weighing me down. I'm making choices that are rooted in what I need, not what I feel I should do.

Not surprisingly, my art is changing, too.

At the moment, I find myself moving between three very different styles/ideas — all of them pulling at me in different ways. Some days, I feel inspired and free. Other days, I feel quite lost.

I don’t know yet which direction I’ll choose, or if I need to choose at all. To be honest, that uncertainty used to scare me - it felt like a big yawning hole that I might fall into and never get out off. But now, it feels like a kind of invitation.

Because when something ends — a podcast, a life situation, a way of working — it creates space.

And in that space, something new begins, even if you don’t know what it is yet.

I’m also reimagining my annual artist’s course — especially the free portion. I want it to reflect where I am now, not where I was when I first created it. I want it to offer the right kind of energy for artists who are also navigating change — whether in their art, their life, or both.

This season feels like standing in a hallway with a lot of doors. Some are gently closing behind me. Some are creaking open. And I don’t know yet what’s on the other side.

But I’m learning that you don’t need all the answers before you take the next step. Sometimes, it's enough to pause; to reflect; to feel the tug of what’s changing, and trust that something is forming in the background — something you’ll understand more clearly once you’re on the other side.

I now know that I don't have to choose a painting style or theme. I don't have to make big life decisions before I'm ready. And I don't have to know exactly how "Find Your Joy" will be be different this year. Instead I can just allow it all to unfold in good time.

One thing that won't change about the course is the ending ... Find Your Joy always ends with a new beginning. This way of teaching is a reminder than the end is never really the end. It’s just the beginning of the next thing.

So if you’re in a similar space — letting go, rethinking, or simply unsure — I see you. You’re not behind. You’re not lost. You’re in transition.

You're right at the beginning and what better place to be?