When I look back on 2011 years from now, I think I’ll still be overwhelmed with the strong sense of gratitude I feel today. There has been challenge, radical change, emotional intensity, serendipity, desperate confusion and fear, genuine joy and great love. This gamut was especially pronounced in the past 12 months.

I think it was probably some time in March when I started to quietly put on the brakes, responding carefully to emails and ignoring my facebook account. I went about my day-to-day, one foot in front of the other. Life events and new realities had rocked me. In many ways, I was just completely at sea.

By somewhat random chance I met an interesting and insightful woman during this time who (for some reason) suggested I start painting again. Here’s my history with the paintbrush: Love it, but rarely do it. Painted in Junior High & High School and have pulled out the brushes for crafting and the occasional canvas, since. Often expensive and hard to justify, it falls off the to-do list and gets forgotten. Tried pin-striping (with a big thanks to Butcher), which also managed to fall off the list of free-time fillers. For some reason though, when it was suggested this time, it stuck with me.

I saw a Michael’s flyer advertising 50% off all Artist’s Loft products, and decided it was too good to pass up. I went and stocked up, came home and dug out the easel, threw on some music and started making a mess.

Here’s what I’ve been loving about painting: the total chaos of it. As a designer, there are times I’m staring at a file at 6400% zoom, moving something by two pixels. It’s obvious I enjoy graphic design—however it can be technical in nature, regardless of how obscure the layout. There is just something deeply liberating about making a mess with random glops and swishes of colour and not getting caught up in the potential results. I have no aspirations for photo-realism when I’m painting. I’m not looking to create perfect works of art. And so far, when I start opening the tubes of acrylic, I have only a very loose idea of what I’m about to put on the canvas. I just start putting down colour, and let go. You see where I’m going with this. That’s right: painting has been a great way to relax & be mindful. To welcome inspiration and give up control. It’s meditative. Even though the results have been varied—and it’s been one small activity of many—taking time to make a vibrant, silly mess on canvas has been healing for me these many months.

It’s because of the encouragement of someone dear to me that I’m posting these images here on my blog, and may keep doing so. Putting these out there is what I would imagine streaking through a church during mass is like. I hadn’t painted them thinking anyone would ever see them, exactly. So here I am, nakedly showing you a corner of my heart from 2011.

I am sincerely grateful for the support of my family, friends and clients this year. There are some great things on the horizon, and I’m looking forward to them with a fresh perspective and enthusiasm.

Wishing you health, wealth and happiness in 2012. The best, (as they say), is yet to come.