The Art of Slow Living: Why I Take My Time with Pastels
Somewhere along the way, we were sold the idea that faster is better. That hustle equals success, that productivity equals worth. I spent years caught in that mindset—pushing through, doing more, always trying to keep up. Until I finally stopped.
I started noticing. Noticing how exhausted I felt. How I was missing the moments right in front of me. How the relentless pace wasn’t actually leading me anywhere I wanted to go. And so, I let it go. I traded hustle for rhythm, exhaustion for flow. I embraced slow living, and in doing so, I found my art. Or maybe, my art found me.
The Connection Between Art & Slow Living
Slow living, for me, isn’t about doing less—it’s about doing things with intention. It’s about moving through my days with awareness, whether that’s homeschooling my daughter, baking something delicious, or working on a pastel painting. It’s a rhythm, not a schedule. A flow, not a race.
Soft pastels fit into this beautifully. The way they scumble across the paper, the way layers build upon each other, the way blending forces me to slow down and be present—pastel work is a full sensory experience. The sound of the pigment against sanded paper, the way my fingers press and move the colors, the satisfaction of watching a landscape come to life—it all pulls me into the moment.
And isn’t that the essence of slow living? Paying attention. Feeling instead of forcing. Letting things unfold instead of pushing through.
The Beauty of Taking Your Time with Art
I didn’t always paint like this. There was a time when I thought I needed to create quickly and efficiently to prove I was doing something. But art isn’t about rushing to a finish line—it’s about the process.
Now, if I feel like I’m forcing something, I stop. If I feel the pressure to push through, I take a break. I’ve learned that creativity isn’t something to squeeze into the cracks of time—it deserves space. Presence. Attention.
That’s why I don’t pre-select my palette (with the exception of my limited palette prairie series). Instead, I let my intuition guide me as I go. I reach for colors in the moment, feeling them rather than planning them. It’s not a rushed decision—it’s an unfolding one.
When I slow down, I hear my own thoughts more clearly. I recognize patterns in my creative process, and I notice when self-doubt or pressure try to creep in. I see where my intuition is leading me, and I trust it.
Mindfulness & Creativity in Harmony
There’s something powerful about allowing yourself to be fully present with your work. The way pastels blend, the way layers interact, the way the colors shift in different light—it’s mesmerizing.
When I paint, I notice. I notice textures in my reference images. I notice how warm and cool tones play together. I notice the way the wind moves through a prairie scene.
And in noticing, I experience my art in a deeper way. It’s not just about making something beautiful—it’s about being with the process.
That doesn’t mean distractions don’t happen (I homeschool a kiddo, so they definitely happen). But I’ve learned that stopping when I need to isn’t failure—it’s part of the rhythm. I can step away and come back without guilt or resentment.
That lesson has extended beyond my studio, too. I used to struggle with interruptions—feeling frustrated when I couldn’t finish something in one sitting. But through painting (and a bit of therapy, let’s be honest), I’ve learned how to pause and return. I’ve learned that stepping away doesn’t mean stopping.
Encouragement for Others
If slowing down feels hard, that’s okay. It’s a practice—one that takes time and intention.
Start small. Take a deep breath before you pick up your brush (or pastels, or whatever medium you love). If you feel tension creeping into your shoulders, exhale slowly. If your inner dialogue starts spiraling into self-doubt, pause and redirect it.
Try breathing techniques. A simple 4-5-6 pattern (inhale for 4, hold for 5, exhale for 6) can help reset your nervous system. Or try box breathing (inhale for 4, hold for 4, exhale for 4, hold for 4).
Most importantly, give yourself permission to take your time. You don’t have to create in the cracks of your day. You don’t have to produce at breakneck speed. Your creativity isn’t a race, and you’re allowed to move at a pace that feels good.
If you’re in a season where time is limited, be honest with yourself. Make a list of micro-steps so you can work on your art in small, meaningful moments—without feeling rushed or resentful.
At the end of the day, slow living—whether in art or life—is about intention. It’s about choosing what matters most and letting the rest go.
So, take a deep breath. Pick up your pastels. And allow yourself the space to create, not just for the final piece, but for the joy of the process.
Because art, like life, is best experienced when we take our time.