Finding Inspiration in Autumn

Title: Harvest Bouquet, Medium: Oil on Illustration Board, Size: 6”x4”

There is something about the first crisp breeze of autumn that makes me want to become a bear.

The moment the air begins to cool, I find myself looking for the coziest place in the house, making another cup of tea, and preparing to hibernate for the winter.

Autumn in Northern Alberta is full of contrasts. The days can still be warm and sunny, while the nights bring frost and rain. The days grow shorter, and somehow my internal clock seems to adjust almost immediately. Suddenly, eight o'clock feels like a perfectly reasonable bedtime.

Outside, the valleys become painted in brilliant yellows. There is that unmistakable crisp smell of leaves in the air, and the garden, which I've fussed over all summer, begins its slow transition toward dormancy.

I suppose I neglect it a little once that first cold breeze arrives. I like to think I'm simply helping everything prepare for winter.

A Season Worth Celebrating

October has always been one of my favourite times of year.

For me, it is a season of gathering and celebration. Thanksgiving, Halloween, my birthday—there always seems to be something to look forward to. I love the feeling of people coming together during this time of year.

I've also always loved Halloween. My mother is a seamstress and used to make my costumes when I was growing up. I even won quite a few costume competitions thanks to her incredible skill and craftsmanship.

Now, I especially love watching the children who come trick-or-treating. I love seeing the creativity they put into their costumes and the little pieces of art walking around the neighbourhood.

Maybe that's part of why October feels so creative to me.

There is permission to be a little more playful.

The Colours of Autumn

Candle detail, Title: Breathe It In, Medium: Oil on Canvas, Size: 22”x22”

I truly love the colours of fall.

The bright, warm yellows, oranges, and reds of the foliage against cool grey skies are one of my favourite combinations. There is something incredibly pleasing about that contrast—the warmth of the leaves becoming even more vivid because of the coolness surrounding them.

I find myself wanting to capture that same feeling in my paintings.

Lately, I've been especially drawn to candlelight within my still lifes. The warm glow of a candle creates its own little world within a scene, and I love the way it contrasts with the cooler surroundings.

As autumn settles in, I've also started incorporating seasonal objects into my still lifes: apples, pears, pumpkins, beautiful flowers, candles, and delicate pieces of china.

The paintings feel cozy, romantic, and quiet.

That is exactly how I want this season to feel.

Nesting

Steven and Bruce enjoying an autumn fire

As much as I love being outside in the garden during summer, autumn pulls me indoors.

I start drinking tea more often—three cups a day instead of my usual two feels perfectly reasonable—and I find myself reorganizing and redecorating the house using things I already own.

There is something satisfying about nesting before winter arrives.

One of my favourite parts of autumn at home is lighting a fire in the wood fireplace in our front room. My husband and I love having the fire going on a cool evening. The warmth, the glow, and the sound of the fire make the whole house feel different.

“That, more than anything, feels like autumn in our household.”

A cozy evening becomes a little more appealing. A blanket, a cup of tea, a fire glowing in the next room, a guilty-pleasure television show, soft lighting, and nowhere else I need to be.

My ideal autumn studio afternoon isn't much different.

There is a cat by my side, hot tea on my desk, a beautiful lamp glowing nearby, soft music playing in the background, and my aromatherapy diffuser running.

It sounds simple, but these little rituals make the studio feel like somewhere I want to spend time.

And right now, I want to spend a lot of time there.

Learning From the Ugly Phases

Last month, I wrote about learning to be bad at something.

My watercolor challenge didn't quite go according to plan. I didn't manage to paint a flower every day because, rather embarrassingly, I ran out of watercolor paper.

But I painted far more than I expected to.

More importantly, I started to understand the medium.

I began learning how layering can create richer shadows and depth, and I learned a little more patience. Watercolor has a way of forcing you to wait. I found it incredibly annoying to have to let one layer dry before I could continue building colour.

Oil paint lets me commit to colour—most of the time.

Watercolor made me slow down.

And although I didn't love every painting I made, I think that's part of the value of the exercise.

The idea from last month's journal has stayed with me: it's about the journey, not the destination.

I think that lesson needs to stay with me throughout my career as an artist.

There are always going to be ugly phases of a painting. There will be moments when I wonder whether I've ruined something or whether the finished piece will look anything like the vision I had in my head.

Learning to trust my skill, my vision, and the process instead of panicking in those moments is incredibly freeing.

The watercolor challenge has also made me excited about what's coming next.

I've found myself thinking about little compositions and colour combinations that I might explore through my upcoming mail club, The Painted Post.

So even the paintings I didn't love had somewhere to take me.

What's Happening in the Studio

This month, I'll be finishing a commissioned oil painting for a dear friend.

I've loved working on this piece because it combines so many beautiful elements: romantic wedding flowers, candlelight, tea ceremony cups, and a perfume bottle from the wedding day.

It has been especially meaningful because I had the honour of being part of her bridal party.

Once that painting is finished, I'm looking forward to returning to my Wished I Used It More series.

The next painting will continue exploring the romantic world I began creating with the first piece—beautiful flowers, candles, and dainty china gathered together in warm, intimate light.

I'm excited to see where this series goes.

I'll also be beginning the first paintings for The Painted Post, my monthly art mail club launching in January. After experimenting with watercolor this summer, I'm particularly excited to start developing little compositions for the paintings that will eventually make their way into someone's mailbox.

There is something very charming about making a small painting knowing that it will eventually become part of someone else's day.

Making Room for Winter

September was a little more difficult creatively than I had hoped. I was sick for part of the month, and my plans for a consistent studio routine didn't quite happen the way I imagined.

But I'm ready to try again.

This October, I want to consistently paint.

I want to put the time in, follow the ideas that are exciting me, and keep my hands busy making things. I want to carry that lesson from watercolour with me and remember that not every painting has to be successful for the time spent making it to be worthwhile.

Autumn is a reminder that everything has its season.

“The garden is slowing down. The days are getting shorter. The evenings are becoming quieter.”

And I'm finding myself wanting to slow down with it.

Before winter arrives, though I want to savour this season.

I want to drink the extra cup of tea. I want to light the candles. I want to celebrate my birthday, admire the Halloween costumes, gather with people I love, and notice the golden valleys before the leaves disappear.

There is so much beauty in autumn.

Maybe the trick is simply to stop long enough to enjoy it.

And then, when the studio calls, to pick up the brush.