Tomorrow morning, I’ll walk to class with a backpack full of paint and brushes, another bag full of more supplies, and my work laptop tucked in, too—just in case I have to switch from student to employee faster than planned. It’s been cold and rainy lately, so I keep mentally rehearsing the morning to make sure I’ve got everything I need (including my umbrella): coffee and breakfast with my partner (and the crossword, always!), getting presentable, and then heading out the door to start something that’s been two months in the making.
It’s a five-week art immersion. Four days a week, in-person, with hands-on instruction and structured studio time. And the part I’m looking forward to the most: feedback from someone who’s an expert and knows what they’re doing.
I’ll be documenting all of it.
Why I’m Doing This
One of the biggest things I’ve realized I need is a structured place to improve my skills. I can work hard—that’s never been the issue—but I’m keenly aware of how easy it is to be busy about art without actually getting better. I know I need outside input from someone who’s ahead of me, who can point out my blind spots. That’s the kind of feedback that’s like a wormhole to reaching new levels.
I’m also just ready to put “I wish” behind me when it comes to my skills. I want to get to a place where I feel genuinely proud to sell my work—not in theory, or someday, but now. This class is part of that leap: a push toward taking my art seriously.
What I’ll Be Sharing
Over the next five weeks, I’ll be sharing:
- Photos of in-progress work and the technical skills I’m learning
- Short reflections about what it’s like to be in this environment as an emerging artist
- Notes on any mindset shifts, hard days, or breakthroughs
- Honest thoughts about how it feels to move into this identity more publicly
Think of it like a field report from someone mid-transformation. If you’ve ever been curious about doing something like this—or about taking yourself seriously in any pursuit, creative or otherwise—I hope this series gives you a little window into what it’s actually like to stop thinking about it and start doing it.
Workspace, Tools, and Mindset
I’ve spent the last week preparing: setting up my (temporary) art space at home, organizing my materials, packing my bags. I’m in full-on parental mode for myself, even packing after-class snacks in case I need a boost. (RXBAR, anyone?)
I’m excited and a little nervous. I tend to like to watch and observe before I dive in with a new group, so tomorrow will be about getting the lay of the land. Who’s here? What’s the vibe? How advanced is everyone? Where do I fit?
That said—I’m ready. This really does feel like the start of a new kind of momentum.
What My Art Might Be About…
The honest answer is: I’m not totally sure yet. But here’s what I keep circling back to.
I want to travel to amazing places—vibrant jungles, volcanic coasts, historic cities and sites in places like Greece, Peru, Easter Island—and make art deeply informed by what I learn and experience there. I want to partner with cultural or environmental organizations, give back through my work, and make pieces that honor both place and story.
I think “provenance” is underrated—not just in art, but in life. The idea that something carries weight and meaning because of where it’s been, who made it, and what it’s lived through is incredibly valuable and enriching. I want my work to feel like that: rooted, attentive, resonant. Something that can withstand the ages.
Attention is a form of love, and art is a kind of communication. It’s how I want to connect with the world now.
This Is Also About Belief, and Identity
To be honest, this class isn’t just about my skill level. It’s about proof.
It’s about me proving to myself—and maybe to people around me who love me but don’t quite speak the language of art—that this version of me is real. That this isn’t just a hobby. That I can evolve into who I decide I want to be.
More than anything, I want to reinforce that belief through action, showing up, and documenting the process. I know that the more I do those things, the more real it becomes both to me and to the world.
If You’re Watching From the Sidelines…
I hope you take this as a kind of permission (which you don’t need, but I’m offering it up, in case you feel like you need it right now to take the next step).
This permission is to start whatever it is you keep circling. You don’t need a public declaration or a hundred people to understand you. You don’t even need anyone to notice you, really.
You can just begin. You’re in charge of your life.
It’s your ship. And if you want beaches instead of icebergs, you can start deliberately turning the wheel where you want to go. No one else needs to approve. The proof is in the doing.
Come Along for the Ride
As the summer unfolds, I’ll be sharing updates here, on Instagram, and in my newsletter every week. I hope you’ll join me—and if any part of this resonates with you, leave a comment and let me know. I’d love to hear what you’re working on (or dreaming about), too.
Here’s to week one. Here’s to the futures we want for ourselves.
It's Henley 