‘I should have done that’ is a pointless sentiment.

Carol L. Douglas painting at Acadia National Park
A student painting a nocturne during my October workshop in Rockport.

One of my friends and students (the terms are redundant) asked me to help with her Christmas list for her grandkids. I’ve had a great time thinking through the possibilities, because Susan is both inventive and specific.

I wish I’d shown the same flair when it came to my own family. I asked my daughter what my oldest grandson wants. A cell phone and cheese. I don’t endorse the cell phone, and cheese is ridiculous. Instead, he’s getting a circuit-design kit. Maybe he can build his own cellphone.

I don’t like shopping and I’m not good at it. Now that most things are wrapped and under the tree, I’m second-guessing my choices. But I remind myself that “I should have done that,” is a pointless sentiment.

Carol L. Douglas painting at Acadia National Park
Me teaching composition at Acadia National Park.

Regrets about bad choices

I’ve thought about the futility of regret many times over the years, usually when I’ve done something particularly bone-headed. That includes times when I haven’t painted because events or emotions got in the way. But what’s the value in that kind of thinking? I’m a pretty larky person, and that’s the net result of all those decisions. And if I weren’t happy, regrets wouldn’t make it better; I have only today to start changing things.

Holiday deadlines

One deadline that’s irrevocably past is my shipping deadline for paintings. (You could still get our great brush soap in time for stocking stuffers, but we only have two left in stock. We’ll get right on that, but not in time for Christmas.)

But the best gifts are bookable, not shippable. A 2023 study showed that a staggering 92% of Americans would rather receive a shared experience. Of these, half (51%) would like to travel or take a trip, especially among Millennials (56%). A survey published last month showed that travelers prefer skills over souvenirs:

In 2026, skill-building is the new sunbathing. Seventy-six percent of travelers say the idea of learning something new on holiday is more appealing than ever. Gen Z are the generational force driving this shift, with almost a third (31%) saying they’d rather come home from a holiday with a new skill than a keepsake.

A bouncy watercolor by Stacy White, from my last Sedona workshop.

No more regrets

December has a way of distracting us. Creativity gets siphoned off into transitory things—and that’s okay. But once we get done with the Christmas rush, we’ll remember there’s a creator hiding under the busy-work. January is right around the corner. The ‘dead of winter’ is a season of no distractions, which means we can get back to our easels.

The first step to a reset is to forgive yourself for the time you ‘wasted’. The second step is to make a concrete plan to restart your creative life. Consider this your nudge toward a 2026 workshop. Not a vacation, per se, but a time when the only thing asked of you is to make marks, mix color, breathe deeply, and remember why you paint. It’s a promise you make to yourself that your creative life matters.

Maggie Daigle painting at Waconah Falls during my Berkshires workshop.

We live in a culture where things can always be bought. But time is a finite resource, and uninterrupted creative time must be intentionally carved out. If someone in your family wants to help you with that, rush to say yes.

Registration is now open for workshops in 2026! Reserve your spot:

Can’t commit to a full workshop? Work online at your own pace:

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