Kelly Joy Ladd started a great program talking to artists about how they work and are inspired. She has done video interviews (now used by some museums to help viewers understand the artistic process) and also posts shorter versions on Instagram.

Oh my gosh – thank you for such wonderful comments both on my work and my book. Heartwarming and uplifting. Thank you.

Since there was so much interest, I thought you might like to see the pieces that are left in each of the series still available for purchase.

It’s been a busy, beneficial year for me. I sold our home almost exactly a year ago and moved to a new home that I’m renting from dear friends. It has a studio that is perfect for painting and the whole place has a great vibe.

Whenever I am unsure of what to do next, I start making small pieces again. They fuel play. Because they are small; there’s no risk.

Nigel Dunnett, a wonderful garden designer, has posted photos on his Instagram account of the naturalistic “wildflower” plantings around the tower of London, called Superbloom. I drink in those photos and they fill me with joy.

I’m back from my two-week trip to southern France. I caught a bad cold the day I landed, and it’s left me in this quiet space of not much doing and a lot of time to reflect.

In January of 2023, each week I began to make nine small pieces and arrange them in grid form. I tore up old, failed pieces and gathered other bits. I incorporated handmade porcelain trinkets reminiscent of my years working with clay.

Lately, I love to work in a series.  I am making small pieces again and each one seems to lead to the next. As I assemble a group of small pieces, they gain strength.  One seems to inform the other.

I see it in my work. It’s so different from past work. No stitch. The underlying Japanese washi paper was soaked and nibbled away in the tidelands of Puget Sound. The layers of organza were burned and dipped in beeswax. This is all new for me.

I have known for a long time that I am intuitive artist. My hands usually know more than my mind. My heart must be fully engaged in what I am making. If I think too much, plan too much, the feeling that is brought to a piece dissipates. Often, it is only after the piece, or the series is done that I understand what was trying to come to light.

“Do materials or ideas inspire you?” asked Angela Truscott, the wonderful owner of the Australian Fibre Arts Take Two, during a recent interview.

I have just added about 40 new pieces to my art shop! https://www.robertawagner.com/art If you would like to send one to someone for the holidays, I’d be happy to wrap it and send it to them directly.

Bruce, my husband and best friend, died on September 20, 2019, his birthday was September 25th, and his memorial service was on October 3, 2019. As these anniversaries approached, I felt myself sinking into grief. I think it was a dread of that second anniversary.

It’s been two decades since I actively worked to sell my artwork. Selling artwork takes a lot of time. One Instagram professional painter whom I admire recently posted that the business of selling her work takes about 60% of her time. I think that’s accurate.

Twelve small piece of art are now available in my shop! Three of them, the Birch Bark pieces are pictured in Come Walk with Me: Exploring Why Art Matters, Others from the “Morning Light” and “Night Sky” series are also available.

The book is now available on Amazon as a soft cover book or as an e book. I was surprised that the print quality of Amazon print-on-demand was so good, and it will save the international shipping charges.

I have been taking Lorna Crane’s Perfectly Imperfect online course through Fiber Arts Take Two. Lorna is a powerful Australian artist and a generous and gifted teacher. We started the class by making our own brushes and exploring our landscape. She is an abstract artist who references the land. I am, too.

In February and March and most of April, I woke up to fog. I’d look out my front windows toward the water and see a milky veil over everything. Slowly, as the day came alive, the mist would clear, and I could start to see the view.

Last August, I decided to make at least one small piece a day - a very small piece – 4” x 6”, or 3” x 4” or 4” x 4”. I now have a lot of them - they are dear to my heart because they helped me through a tough time.

My husband passed away on September 20, 2019. Grief engulfed me. Three months later I found out that I was severely anemic. That lead to a diagnosis of lymphoma. For the past 6 months I have had infusions to treat the lymphoma. I am getting better!