Small Things
There’s something deeply joyful about small things.
Not in a “settle for less” way—but in a notice-more way.
The kind of joy that sneaks up on you while you’re living your life, not planning it.
A warm mug in your hands.
Morning light on the wall.
A quiet house before the day begins.
A baby’s smile that feels like it rearranges your heart.
That’s where this year-long painting series begins.
This year on Patreon, I’m painting one small thing each day—something that reflects a moment, a feeling, or a detail from my life. Mine are 3.5 x 3.5 inches, but yours can be any size, any surface, any medium you love. Big paper, tiny paper, canvas, sketchbook, or something delightfully unconventional. This is about freedom, not rules.
Because the truth is:
Great things really do come in small packages.
And often, it’s the small things that make life feel full.
Some days, my painting might capture something simple—a flower, a cup of coffee, a familiar corner of my home.
Other days, it might hold something much bigger—like the first intentional smile from my two-month-old granddaughter. Not the sleepy, accidental smile (still adorable), but the kind that feels like a tiny love letter just for you.
That moment fits beautifully into a small square.
And somehow, it fits beautifully into a day.
This practice isn’t about keeping up or doing more.
It’s about pausing.
About noticing what’s already good.
About letting creativity live alongside real life instead of waiting for the perfect time.
Each small painting becomes a gentle marker:
I was here. I noticed this. This mattered.
At the end of the year, I plan to frame all of these little pieces together and hang them above my painting desk in my studio. Side by side, they’ll tell the story of a year—not in big headlines, but in meaningful details.
A year of ordinary days made special.
A year of small joys collected on purpose.
A year of showing up creatively in a way that feels light, doable, and deeply satisfying.
If you’re joining me, I hope this becomes a soft rhythm in your own life too. Not another obligation—just a small daily invitation. A few minutes to create. A moment to breathe. A reminder that beauty is already woven into your days.
Life doesn’t usually shout its best moments.
It whispers them.
And when we slow down enough to notice, we get to keep them.
I’m so glad you’re here.
Let’s paint the small things—together.