It’s not Wrong

In July, I had the opportunity to attend a watercolor workshop at The Landgrove Inn in Vermont, led by the well-known watercolorist Margie Samuels. I was a bit intimidated at first — and immediately realized I had forgotten my pencils (so basic). But Margie’s warmth and easy teaching style quickly put me at ease. For a full week, I balanced immersive days in the studio with evenings spent with my kids, all while surrounded by the serene, clean beauty of Vermont. As stunning as the setting was, what left the greatest impression on me was the people.

The group that gathered for the workshop was one of the most welcoming, encouraging communities I’ve encountered in a very long time. Artists ranged from beginners to seasoned professionals to architects. I was immensely impressed by the experience and skill of the advanced artists, and by the courage and curiosity of those just starting out. Seeing people push through challenging compositions reminded me to be patient and optimistic. I watched the person in front of me work through a mess of a painting that looked impossible — only to transform it into something truly beautiful. Others created incredibly diffuse, atmospheric pieces that I could look at for hours. Conversations sparked spontaneously, and I learned something new with each exchange.

Throughout the week, I asked questions, exchanged pain points, and listened. And in return, I was asked deeper questions—about my compositions, my choices, and my style. Why did I decide to do something a certain way? How did I plan? What was I trying to communicate? Where do I find inspiration?

For the first time, I heard my pieces described as “graphic”, “cool”, “modern”, “Arts & Crafts”, and “subject-driven”, all things I never considered before. At one point, I admitted that I felt like I don’t do things the right way, and one of the highly experienced artists who had reviewed my bird paintings said “there is nothing wrong with honoring a biological thing”. So simple - I thought “there isn’t”, and immediately understood more about my focus and the intentional simplicity in my approach. In the end, all of those conversations helped me better verbalize my own tendencies, and that was eye-opening. I left the workshop with a clearer sense of how I approach art, and more importantly, a growing confidence in my own voice and style as an artist.

I’m so grateful for the experience—and for the generous, friendly people who helped me see my art, and myself, a little more clearly.