I Created My Own Artist Residency

Hey, hello there my dear friend,

A few weeks ago, I relocated into what I've been calling my self-created artist residency, and the funny thing is that I don't think I fully understood why I 'needed' it until I got here (photos below).

A dear friend of mine is traveling with her family for a few weeks, and since she needed someone to stay with her dog, we came up with an arrangement that felt like a gift for both of us. She gets peace of mind knowing her very special Labrador is getting lots of love, walks, and attention, and I get to spend five weeks creating from a completely different environment without actually being very far from home.

The goal was never to escape my life. The goal was simply to create from a different place. And what a beautiful thing that is.

As many of you know, I've been rewriting my book, Decoding the Flow, and for months I felt like I was making progress, but never quite dropping into the depth that writing a book requires. At the same time, I was painting every day for my 100 Days project, preparing RIPPLE, recording podcast episodes, running my business, and doing all the little things that nobody really sees but somehow take up a surprising amount of mental energy.

The funny thing is that I wasn't struggling because I didn't have ideas. Quite the opposite. I had too many things happening at once, and while I was making progress on all of them, I couldn't seem to sink deeply into any one thing.

When I first arrived, I had this beautiful fantasy that changing environments would instantly make me focused, creative, productive, and deeply connected to my writing. Apparently that's not how it works. Because wherever you go, there you are (that's my favorite quote BTW).

I brought my busy brain with me, along with all the momentum and mental noise from the previous months.. It actually took a few weeks before I started slowing down. And only now (week 3), as I'm writing this blog, can I honestly say I feel locked into the book (and canceling plans too ;)

For the past few days I've been spending about four hours every morning working on it, and for the first time in a very long time, I don't feel rushed. I don't feel like I'm trying to squeeze writing between a hundred other things. I don't feel guilty for taking a break (lots of breaks) or racing a clock.

I take Watson (the dog ;)  for a walk, write for a few hours, play a little piano, sit outside, watch the trees move, listen to the birds, read a book, and somehow the day feels complete.

The thing I've been thinking about the most lately is how much we carry without realizing we're carrying it. We don't realize how much we have been energetically carrying until we make time for emptiness. And when I say space, I don't necessarily mean a beautiful house, although I won't complain about that part.

I mean emptiness without an agenda, where you're simply left with yourself. And honestly, I think that's why so many people avoid it. Because once the noise goes away, you're left with all of you.

One of the most unexpected parts of this experience has been Watson. As a lifelong cat lady, I had absolutely no idea how fascinating dogs are. I know all of you dog owners are probably rolling your eyes because you've known this forever, but I'm serious.

Every single walk feels like a lesson in curiosity.

What originally drove me crazy was how much time he spends smelling absolutely everything, and somewhere along the way, instead of being annoyed by it, I became fascinated and started researching how dogs experience the world. They're not simply smelling pee; they're scanning information, almost like scrolling through social media.

In my imagination, while Watson gives me that classic Lab look, he's trying to say:

"Drica, I've been trying to explain this bush to you all week."

Meanwhile, he's thinking:

"First, we investigated the pee from the Golden Retriever. Then we found evidence of a terrier that passed through around noon. Then there was a squirrel situation. Honestly, this has been an extraordinary morning."

And I'm standing there thinking:

"Wow, he's really committed to this."

So now, our walks go like this: when Watson stops at a particularly important scent, I smile and think: "Go ahead, Professor Watson. Continue your research."

They're gathering information the entire time. And also, he's not in a hurry. He's not trying to get somewhere. The walk is the point. And I realized that's exactly what I've been trying to write about in Decoding the Flow.

So much of our lives are spent trying to arrive somewhere that we forget to pay attention to where we already are. It's funny that I came here to work on a book about flow and ended up learning something from a Labrador ;)

Life has a sense of humor like that.

What I've come to appreciate most about these past few weeks isn't necessarily the productivity, even though the book is finally moving in a meaningful way.

It's the spaciousness.

It's remembering what life feels like when every hour doesn't belong to something. It's remembering what it feels like to slow down enough to notice things.

Well, living without feeling rushed feels like a luxury these days. And honestly, in a world constantly telling us to do more, become more, consume more, optimize more, choosing spaciousness feels almost like an act of rebellion.

Before I go, I want to share something that has been sitting in my heart lately.

One of my goals with RIPPLE is to sell the entire collection ;) and use part of those funds toward buying a van, because experiences like this have reminded me how much inspiration lives outside of routine.

II would absolutely love more adventures, more artist residencies, more mornings writing or painting somewhere unexpected. More opportunities to immerse myself in new environments and new conversations.

Only because every meaningful experience eventually finds its way back into my work.

And if you've followed my work for any amount of time, then you already know that's how Ripple works: one small action creates another, one experience leads to another, and one choice changes the direction of everything that follows.

So if you haven't found your RIPPLE yet, I'd love for you to take a look at the collection, because every painting that finds a home helps create the next adventure, the next book chapter, the next painting, and whatever beautiful surprise comes after that.

Color Your Life!

Drica