I can already imagine people discovering Little Seasons. I hope a child leaves a tiny drawing and comes back later to discover that someone has taken it home. I hope someone walking past stops for a moment because something inside catches their eye. I hope an artist who has never shown their work anywhere before sees one of our Calls for Art and thinks, Maybe I could do that.

There is still time. Before the branches are bare and autumn gives way to the quieter days ahead, there is still time to notice what is here. A leaf turning gold at its edges. The sound of something dry beneath your feet. A last flower holding on in the garden. The particular way October light falls across the afternoon.

A gentle September creative practice inviting you to notice the changing season, gather a leaf, mix its colors, and paint what you see.

Making room isn't only about what we let go. It's also about choosing what deserves a place in our everyday lives, and allowing the beautiful things we've saved for "someday" to become part of today.

First Step to creating a meaningful home: Start with the Feeling For me, creating a meaningful home is a journey through color. Before I chose any paint colors, I took a moment to reflect. I wanted to articulate how I wanted the room to feel. Calm. Grounded. Welcoming. Connected to the landscape outside our windows. This feeling became the foundation for every decision that followed. Let the Room Lead In our living room, the stone fireplace became my guide. Its mix of warm cl

Finishing touches, gold leaf hand embelleished. ©2026 Karen Armstrong As the year begins, I’m reflecting in quieter ways. I’ve never been one for resolutions. What feels truer to me is paying attention to where I am and noticing how life, creativity, and healing continue to change shape. It is actively healing in motion. Over the past year, I began a body of work called Healing Heart, inspired by kintsugi and created during a season of grief. That work taught me how to carry

This autumn has brought a season of change as my husband and I settle into our new home in Washington. Phase one of our renovation is now complete. The foundation has been repaired, the worn carpets are gone, and new “Vintage Pine” floors have given the upstairs rooms a warm breath of life.

What It's Like Opening My Online Shop While Buying a 1940s Farmhouse in Washington is the excitent of new beginnings Twin fawns at rest in our new front yard Excitement of New Beginnings This September has been unlike any other in my creative life. For months, I’ve been quietly planning, designing, printing, photographing, and dreaming of what it would be like to open my new online shop. After so much preparation, the doors finally opened and a gentle bloom after a long seaso

On a recent trip to the Northwest, I drove past rolling hills covered with fields of sunflowers. Most were still bowed in green-budded rest, but here and there, a few early blooms had already lifted their faces to the sky.

In a Gentle Space “You are not less because you’ve been broken. You are more.” - Karen Armstrong The Beauty of the In-Between There is something quietly profound about this moment in the year. Not quite spring. Not yet summer. A threshold season. A hush. The in-between is often overlooked - we rush toward the bloom of spring or the fullness of summer. But I’ve come to see these spaces as sacred. A cradle for mending. A gentle place where something gathers bef

This summer marks a full circle moment in my creative journey. Recently, as I signed a new art print for my upcoming shop launch, I felt the same quiet thrill I experienced forty years ago when I signed my very first print.

After stepping away from my art practice to care for my parents during the final seasons of their lives, I’ve been slowly finding my way back - one tender brushstroke at a time.