I like to make a mess.
If you walked into my studio right now, you would not see a sterile, perfectly organized gallery space. It’s not a disaster zone (I know exactly where every tube of paint and favorite brush is located), but it’s a living, breathing workspace. When the creative energy strikes, the floor becomes my favorite place to be.
There’s something incredibly grounding about spreading out on the floor. Being surrounded by jars of water, active palettes, and the raw freedom of creation is where I feel most at home. On the floor, you don’t worry about drips or keeping things tidy. You just create.
Key Takeaways
- Painting directly over an old, finished canvas instead of starting blank creates a visual “palimpsest,” where the ghost of the earlier work adds real depth and history to the new one.
- Art as radical self-care isn’t a luxury when you’re caregiving; it’s the thing that makes showing up for everyone else sustainable.
- Art4Healing Laguna Beach classes resume in September, with promotion starting in August.
Creativity blossoms best when there’s absolutely no pressure. When my energy is high and the expectations are low, the magic happens.
The Power of Painting Over an Old Canvas
That high-energy, pressure-free flow is exactly what led me to my easel. I stood in front of an older canvas, a painting I’d finished quite some time ago, but it no longer spoke to me.
Instead of going out to buy a new, blank white canvas, I did something incredibly freeing: I started painting over an old canvas.
I didn’t sand it down. I didn’t prep it with gesso to wipe the slate clean. I just grabbed my bottles and started laying down new, bold fluid acrylic washes right over the existing artwork.
As I watched the wet paint collide with the dry, stubborn edges of the previous piece, a beautiful word came to mind: palimpsest.
Historically, a palimpsest is an ancient parchment or writing tablet. Because writing materials were scarce and expensive in ancient times, scribes would scrape or wash away older texts so they could reuse the surface.
However, because the parchment was tough, the original writing was never fully erased. Over decades and centuries, those ghostly, original words would slowly bleed back up to the surface, mingling with the new text.
In art, we see this same beautiful process. When you paint over an old canvas, you create a visual palimpsest. Because I didn’t start with a flat, blank canvas, my new painting already has a gorgeous, gritty depth. It has history.
My Current Obsession: Earth Tones
Right now, my creative focus is entirely on earth tones, and I’m absolutely loving it.
I’m working with rich terracottas, warm ochres, deep burnt umbers, and soft, sandy beiges. There’s something profoundly calming about working with a palette inspired by the earth, especially when painting on the floor; using these colors makes me feel deeply connected to the natural world.
These colors carry a weight and an honesty to them. They don’t demand attention the way bright neon shades do. Instead, they invite you to sit with them. They feel ancient, grounded, and incredibly resilient.
By layering these warm, muddy, clay-like tones over the bright, older colors of the previous painting, I’m finding a beautiful balance. It’s exciting to watch the older layers peek through, an immense joy in renewing this painting and realizing it’s so much better with these grounded colors. The past is still there, anchoring the piece, but the new earth-toned layers are bringing a sense of peace and maturity to the canvas.
In-Progress Breakthrough: Loving the Circle Focal Point
Writing about the process is one thing, but standing in front of the canvas and feeling it is another thing entirely. Looking at my current work in progress, I felt an intense jolt of creative joy. It’s working.
Because I work with fluid acrylics, there are no heavy brushstrokes here; instead, the magic is entirely in the transparency. It behaves like stained glass, allowing the light to pass through the thin pools of pigment and reflect off the canvas below.
The transition from the bright, expressive blue washes on the left, moving into those grounded, raw-earth ochres in the center, feels incredibly dynamic.
I’m absolutely in love with the circular focal point on the upper right. That dark, mysterious structure, surrounding a little “peek-a-boo” of intense orange and blue, creates a powerful anchor that grounds the entire composition.
But the real joy is seeing the ghostly visual edges of the previous painting actively peeking through the transparent layers of my new earth-toned washes. It’s the definition of a palimpsest. Those old layers aren’t hidden; they’re collaborating with the new work.
To complete the renewal of this painting, I’m planning to play with lighter, transparent colors. I want to lay down a delicate, misty veil of Zinc White and soft, light cream glazes over the brightest areas. Because Zinc White is semi-transparent, it won’t block out the background; instead, it’ll act like frosted glass. It’ll turn the raw background into a quiet, intentional negative space that frames the rich fluid pools and makes that beloved circle section truly sing with a luminous, lit-from-within glow.
Art as Radical Self-Care in the Midst of Caregiving
Lately, my days have been a delicate, beautiful, and sometimes exhausting balancing act. Like many of us, I wear the hat of a caregiver.
Today, my heart is overflowing with gratitude because my mom is looking and feeling so much better. But the reality of caregiving means my days are filled with constant movement: running to get medications, checking on her, doing endless loads of laundry, and keeping the household running smoothly.
In the middle of all these responsibilities, it would be so easy to put myself last. We often tell ourselves, “I’ll paint when everything else is done.” But let’s be honest: the chores are never truly done.
That’s why I’ve made a conscious, protective choice to practice radical self-care. In between caring for my mom and managing the household, I actively make time for myself. Today, that means sitting down to journal first, getting my thoughts out of my head and onto paper. Then, it means stepping into my studio to do some creative work.
Getting in “The Zone”: Reclaiming the Inner Child
Making dedicated time to be creative is the single most important thing I do for my mental health. It’s the one thing that brings me true, healing alone time.
When I sit on the studio floor with my paints, something shifts inside of me. The mental chatter quiets. The to-do lists, the laundry, and the caregiving worries fade into the background. I enter “the zone,” that beautiful, meditative state of flow where time seems to stand still.
In this space, I’m not trying to build a career, please an art critic, or fulfill an obligation. I’m simply there to play.
As adults, we carry so much heavy responsibility on our shoulders. We forget how to play just for the sake of playing. But play is exactly what we need to bring out our inner child. My inner child doesn’t care if the paint gets on her hands or if the colors get a little muddy. She just wants to explore, experiment, and feel the joy of creation.
My studio floor is my sanctuary. The canvas doesn’t demand anything from me. It’s simply a safe container waiting to hold whatever energy I bring to it. Spending even thirty minutes in this playful, childlike state isn’t a luxury; it’s the vital fuel that allows me to keep showing up for the people I love with patience and a joyful heart.
Craving Connection: Art4Healing in September
This practice of using art as a healing lifeline is exactly why I miss teaching so much right now. I miss people. I miss my students.
Teaching has always brought me an immense amount of joy. I’ve found that the creative process with intuitive painting is the fastest way to quiet a busy mind. When we focus on healing through art, we stop worrying about the final product and start focusing on what the canvas is telling us.
Right now, the summer months in Laguna Beach are a beautiful whirlwind. The streets are packed with tourists, and the local art festivals are in full swing. It’s a busy, high-intensity season.
But behind the scenes, I’m preparing for a very exciting new chapter. Come September, I’ll begin facilitating Art4Healing Laguna Beach classes again! We’re fully prepared and will begin actively promoting the classes in August. Art4Healing is a program that aligns perfectly with my creative philosophy: it’s not about technique or making “perfect” art, it’s about using the creative process to express feelings, process pain, and find emotional healing.
A month feels like a long time to wait when you’re excited, but I realize this quiet interlude is a gift. Right now, my focus is purely on creating my own work, getting my hands messy on the studio floor, and filling my own creative well so I have plenty to share with my students in the fall.
Frequently Asked Questions
What does it mean to paint over an old canvas instead of starting blank?
It’s a technique where you don’t sand or gesso-prime a finished piece before starting a new one; you paint directly over it. The old work’s edges and colors bleed through the new layers, creating a visual “palimpsest” with built-in depth and history that a blank canvas can’t offer.
When do Art4Healing classes in Laguna Beach start back up?
Classes resume in September, with promotion and sign-up information starting in August. Reach out if you’d like to be notified when registration opens.
Do I need painting experience to join an Art4Healing class?
No. Art4Healing isn’t about technique or making “perfect” art. It’s about using the creative process to express feelings and find emotional release, so no prior experience is needed.
Why do you paint on the studio floor instead of an easel?
It’s part of the process, not just a preference. Being on the floor with the paint, water jars, and palettes removes the pressure of staying tidy and lets me work with the same freedom I’m encouraging students to find in class.
Embracing Our Own Layers
Sometimes, life outside the studio door gets loud, messy, or downright complicated. We can’t always control the chaos around us, and we certainly can’t erase the chapters of our past to start with a perfectly clean slate.
But art reminds us that we don’t need a blank slate to live a beautiful life.
We’re all just works in progress, building new, warm, grounded layers over the older chapters of our lives. By embracing the mess, the responsibilities, and the history, we create our own beautiful palimpsests.
If you’re feeling stuck, overwhelmed, or depleted by life’s demands today, I encourage you to let go of the pressure. Make some time for yourself, even if it’s just fifteen minutes. Spread out on the floor, grab some paint, let your inner child play, and see what happens when you embrace the layers.
