Residency Report No. 4: Growing Pains
A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor. This is a philosophy that I live and breathe; if you are fortunate, you get to choose which struggles and challenges to engage with. I’m grateful for the challenges in my art practice because they always bring growth in technique and mindset, and redirection when needed. March into April was definitely one of the more strenuous months in my professional career—but, thankfully, growth was at stake.
One of my goals for this residency was to pull away from the social media hamster wheel. For many years, my work was shown and sold primarily through social media, which rewarded consistency. I’ve never made art specifically “for Instagram,” but I have navigated the platform in ways similar to how a gallery artist navigates their gallery: considering finances, relationships, tendencies, and audience preferences. The feedback I received this month emphasized focusing on quality over quantity, so I’m implementing that advice via added intentionality in my practice. Long painting sessions are followed by extended periods of reflection, a process which doesn’t necessarily lend itself to polished social media strategy. But there is growth happening.
A major joy of this month was being able to prioritize play and experimentation in ways I rarely allow myself during a busy schedule. I spent full days teasing out new concepts, and one of the ideas I returned to was gesture drawing. My primary medium for years was paper and pencil, but ever since I began a formal painting practice in college 15 years ago, light and color have become my primary focus. Because of this, my practice has always emphasized moving away from an over-dependence on line, so returning to drawing felt both scary and exciting.
Gesture painting of a bull and rider, Ink and oil stick on paper. 2026
Through this, I’ve rediscovered that drawing—once my perceived weakest link—was deeply enjoyable, and the skills I’ve honed over 15 years of painting paid off in surprising ways; my gesture drawing studies have flowed naturally and felt rhythmic and sharp. It’s always a thrilling thing to find more ways to love making art.
Another breakthrough this month has come via bull motif. I was invited to incorporate the rodeo into my residency work, and I wanted it to feel integral rather than a footnote. I challenged myself to engage with this theme early, anticipating that the subject might drift over time. Instead, I discovered a strong kinship with the bulls in my gesture paintings. Exploring the dynamics between bull, rider, and clown offered a compelling entry point into power, movement, and culturally resonant symbolism. At times this month, I felt like the universe was giving me little winks to keep going in this direction.
That said, I also faced the aforementioned challenges. I discovered that another artist occupying a similar corner of the Internet was producing a series with similar motifs. This meant I had to weigh abandoning two large, fleshed-out paintings that I had invested significant time and energy in. For now, I am focusing on translating smaller, successful studies into larger works, given that studio time has become increasingly precious.
Quick bull studies, Ink and oil stick on paper. 2026.
My children’s schedules have stabilized now that we’re in our fourth month here, and they’ve started new classes. My daughter, for example, is taking an equestrian class at the YMCA— very Fort Worthian of her. This, and side projects with the art team— like painting a large sculptural soccer ball and a mural project— have given me collaborative creative reprieve from the solitude of wrestling with ideas in the studio. Did I mention I painted a mural?!
Even in the peaks and valleys, I trust that the process of grappling with challenges will lead to growth, and eventually, excitement. The hard work and discomfort of March and April, while taxing, is shaping the path forward in ways I already recognize as essential.