Nobody would look at a can of beans and think it was something beautiful, but that’s where art comes in. ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌
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I wasn’t there when my daughter was born. That's not a complaint, it's just a fact. As the result, I had a hard time pinning down the moment I officially became someone’s mother, and sometimes, I second guess the title. This is common reaction for non-biological parents. Just is. For most of my life I assumed *the moment* would come in hospital delivery room with my husband. Then I thought it would never happen. Then I thought it might happen in some far-away orphanage. Then I thought it might happen in a fancy courtroom with a judge. But you know what?

It happened in the grocery store. With a can of Busch’s beans in one hand, searching for a chili recipe on my phone with the other, and an email notification from a paralegal I’d never met, flashed up the subject line: “IT’S OFFICIAL. CONGRATULATIONS.”

What do you do with news like that? 

That stretch of the store, the canned food aisle at Jewel on Sheridan… it holds a special place in my heart. That can of beans  is especially sentimental, as you can imagine. I never thought I’d get sentimental about a can of beans, but here we are. It’s a core memory.


It’s a weird feeling to be elated, relieved, terrified… and holding a can of beans. In public. With no one to process the moment with you. In retrospect I wish I had blurted out the good news and gone running down the aisle giving fist bumps to strangers, but I didn't. I just looked up, said "THANK YOU" and went about my shopping. I had the wherewithal to take a photo on my phone - you can see it just above.

Some people hire professional photographers for maternity shoots or newborn photos sessions. I have a picture of aisle 7 at Jewel. And I wouldn't have it any other way. Honestly. But that moment... it was a lot to process. There’s no real way to describe that feeling… so I made art out of it.

Nobody would look at a can of beans and think it was something beautiful, but that’s where art comes in.

Art is more than a thing on the wall, it’s a way of sharing stuff in your head that words can never describe.

The story here is much bigger and messier and more precious than I could ever explain in any email or photo. My daughter is now 4, and her nickname is still “Bean” and she has a two-year-old sister too. They’re still too young to understand the fullness and wonder of our family dynamics. I hope one day they will. I also hope they’ll be able to look at images of this collection and maybe, just maybe, they’ll have an idea that they inspired the love that went into making them.

See, the thing is. When you make art with heart and guts, people might not know why you made it or what it’s about it…. But they’ll pick up on that energy. And they’ll want to be around it. This collection of canned florals launched in 2021 and it sold out in 15 minutes. I didn’t have to spell it out for them.  They didn’t know they were buying a piece of my heart, they just knew it was something special. Meaningful. Personal. It’s an energy, not an explanation.

WHY AM I TELLING YOU THIS?

I have an assignment!
Before you sit down to make art next time, I want you to think about the moments in your life that are meaningful to you. Is there one that you have never found a way to share in words? Is there something that ties to that moment you can loosely render in visual art? A place, a color, a piece of clothing…memories are powerful. Take a minute to think on this and let it simmer. I’m not asking you to illustrate a story or process trauma, just identify something you have never really fully found a way to describe and let that drive some artwork. Doesn’t need to come out nice. Just feel the moment and allow it to steer an art piece.

When you are done keep it to yourself and never speak of it again. Or, if you feel like it, share it with anyone and everyone and know that you don’t have to explain it. Just don’t be surprised if you get some unusual reactions - people pick up on these things and it can bring out the best (or worst). But you’ll walk away knowing what it is to make meaningful work. It’s a powerful exercise that will change the way you make, view, and appreciate artwork altogether.

Have fun! Let me know how it goes!

-Amanda 

Hi I'm Amanda! In addition to being a pen snob, I'm a professional artist, maker and instructor. Come and join me on my adventures through paint and things that sparkle. You are receiving this email because you have fabulous taste in newsletters and signed up to hear a crazy person ramble about art and stuff. I'm so glad you are here!

Hi I'm Amanda! In addition to being a pen snob, I'm a professional artist, maker and instructor. Come and join me on my adventures through paint and things that sparkle. You are receiving this email because you have fabulous taste in newsletters and signed up to hear a crazy person ramble about art and stuff. I'm so glad you are here!

Want to take a class with me? 

Leader Blooms includes 16 videos and more than five hours of footage spread over two sessions, including 10 different flowers and tips for painting simple still-life images. Big thanks to those who've already taken this course!

Leader Blooms
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