I’m writing this post between my tasks making coffee at my church. As with many other things in my life, the workload for this once-mellow task has ramped up, as our church has blown up to three overflowing services a week. That’s pure blessing, but it also means I’m snatching small moments to write. I don’t like working on Sundays, but I’m trying to get my January classes written before I leave to help my daughter paint her new house. As I wrote on Friday, there are seasons in life when we can’t concentrate on making art, and this is one for me.
I promise I’ll attend one service without my laptop. As always, I’ll bring my sketchbook. I hear better when my hands are busy, and I get a half hour of uninterrupted drawing.

There is no perfect moment
I’ve known many women who can’t paint until their chores are finished. That’s a laugh; our chores are never finished. At 67, I’m aware that we have only finite time, and that the perfect moment will never arrive. But here’s the good news: you don’t need a perfect moment. You just need ten minutes.
A 10-minute sketch is the smallest and kindest gift you can give your creative self. No masterpiece required, no pressure and certainly no grand plan. Just pick up a pencil, a brush or a pen and let your hand move. The goal isn’t a frame-worthy piece. The goals are to start and then to strengthen the habit of daily sketching. Ten minutes is short enough to be doable and long enough to crack open the door to deeper artistic thought.
Just show up
You become an artist by showing up, not by waiting for conditions to improve. Every time I lead a workshop or Zoom class, I see this in action. There are always students who are nervous about the process, but before they know it they’re lost in the quiet pleasure of looking and responding. That tiny window of attention changes everything.
A 10-minute sketch bypasses your inner critic. There’s no time for self-doubt, perfectionism, or overthinking. It’s all action and seeing. When you return to that small practice day after day, you’re not just improving your drawing skills, you’re building a creative habit that reinforces your identity as an artist.

Your 10-minute sketches are the spark
So, start today. Do a fast contour drawing of your coffee mug or a quick value study from the window, even if it’s on the back of a receipt with a ballpoint pen. Keep it light, simple and curious.
But if ten minutes can settle your mind and sharpen your eye, imagine what six weeks of an evening Zoom class or five uninterrupted days of painting will do. This removes you from your routine and drops you into a world where your creative practice matters. You spend time surrounded by other painters, working from life, refining technique, laughing, learning and remembering what it feels like to be fully immersed.
Registration is now open for workshops in 2026! Reserve your spot:
- Canyon Color for the Painter | Sedona, AZ, March 9-13, 2026
- Advanced Plein Air Painting | Rockport, ME, July 13-17, 2026
- Sea & Sky | Acadia National Park, ME, August 2–7, 2026
- Find your Authentic Voice in Plein Air | Berkshires, MA, August 10-14, 2026
- New! Color Clinic 2026 | Rockport, ME, October 3-4, 2026
- New! Composition Week 2026 | Rockport, ME, October 5-9, 2026




Friday’s post inspired me to pick up my H2O brush and tiny palette. I just moved my hands in a painterly motion to see what colors would do. It was fun, inspiring and put me in a better place–lack of guilt for not painting more often!
I am an emotional caretaker to a senior and I am learning to find space to create in her company instead of my isolated basement office/studio. My plein air tools are meant to travel, even within my home!
Balance is tough, but if sought, possible. Not perfectly, but progressively. Can’t wait for workshops to start again in Jan!
Great paintings Carol! Vibrant and active!
Thank you!
Thank you!
“I’ve known many women who can’t paint until their chores are finished.” Yeah, it’s called procrastination. Guilty as charged.
You paint enough for three people, my friend, so NOT guilty.