What I Learned by Taking My Art Business Seriously for a Year

I’ve joked for years that I’m a “messy artist,” but this was the first year I treated my art business like something that deserved structure, attention, and a seat at the table.

Turns out? When you give a dream your full weight, it holds you back, in the best, most exhilarating way.

Whether you’re a collector who’s been cheering me on or an artist friend watching from the sidelines wondering if you should leap too, here’s what one year of actually going for it taught me.

Consistency Is Key

This year, consistency looked like: painting when I said I would, sending emails even when I wondered if anyone would read them, and showing up on social media with a little more courage each week.

Some days my “consistency” was a full finished painting. Other days it was a smudged thumbnail sketch done between homeschooling and feeding the dog.

Each tiny action built confidence I didn’t know I had. Could you feel that shift? The braver I showed up, the more you told me my work felt intimate, grounded, and alive. That meant everything!!

Consistency isn’t glamorous, but it’s the quiet heartbeat of growth.

Branding Matters

I used to cringe at the word “branding.” It felt corporate, stiff, like something that would flatten my personality.

That said, building my brand this year actually gave me permission to be more me! The playful nature-inspired artist who refuses to take herself too seriously but cares deeply about beauty, emotion, and honesty.

Finding my visual voice and my written voice, and realizing they deserved to sit side-by-side - made me feel more professional and more human.

Branding kept me grounded when imposter syndrome tried to hijack the wheel (“You’re too colorful!” “Too soft!” “Too everything!”) and reminded me that the right people find you when you stop hiding.

Painting. A Lot.

I painted more this year than ever before. Not because I “had to,” but because each painting taught me something:

How purple sneaks into almost everything I make.
How prairie skies can save a bad day.
How the more I paint, the more my work looks unmistakably mine.

Painting a lot doesn’t just build skill, it builds trust! You’ve told me you love watching my style evolve in real time. You’ve watched me take risks, shift palettes, and stretch edges, and make new products. That kind of relationship doesn’t happen if the pastels stay in the box!

You Value the Experience, Not Just the Art

Some of my favorite moments this year had nothing to do with the finished paintings and everything to do with the experience around them! The handwritten notes, the packaging choices, the tiny surprises tucked into orders, the stories behind each piece.

I watched collectors light up when they opened calendars, when they saw how a piece was wrapped, when they read a title that captured their own memory better than they could’ve said it.

That’s when I realized:
Collectors don’t just buy art, they buy how you make them feel.

And honestly? I had so much fun leaning into that. I can’t wait to explore it even more next year!!

Community Is the Fuel

My daughter helping name sheep paintings (Karl is still iconic).
My husband troubleshooting tech for stop-motion experiments.
My artist friends cheering behind the scenes.
Collectors showing up with quiet encouragement, kind words, and honest connection.

Community made the hard days less heavy and the good days glow brighter.

I built a beautiful online circle this year, but I’m craving something more rooted locally too. 2026 feels like the year of stepping out from behind the screen, knocking on real doors, and building art-shaped relationships with my neighbors.

Human connection over art? That’s the good stuff!

Marketing Is Just Storytelling

This was the surprise lesson. I used to think marketing meant pressure, selling, convincing. But now? I see it as simply inviting people into the world behind the painting.

Sometimes that’s a full story.
Sometimes it’s a title that opens a hundred different doors in someone’s memory.
Sometimes it’s showing the final painting on a wall and letting someone feel what life would be like with it in their home.

Storytelling doesn’t always have to be emotional confessions - sometimes it’s simply an honest detail, a sensory moment, or a glimpse behind the curtain. You’ve told me again and again that it’s these real, grounded pieces of my process that help you feel connected to the work.

You Grow Faster When You Speak to Collectors, Not Other Artists

This one is nuanced. I love my artist friends! But the moment I shifted my language and storytelling toward the people who actually live with my art - everything changed.

I still share process clips and behind-the-scenes, but now I weave them through the lens of why it matters. Why this moment matters. Why this color matters. Why this scene matters.

Talking directly to collectors feels like finally speaking in the right room.

And something beautiful happened: the more I spoke to collectors, the more my art started speaking back.

Thank you for sticking around for all the transformations and light bulb moments!