Angela's Art Blog

Thoughts on Art and Process

October 15, 2016
by Angela

Embracing the Storm


We here in the Pacific Northwest are facing what, by all reports, is a pretty strong series of storms. And as I sit here and watch the rain and the wind from my new home, in my new life, I find myself reflecting on other types of storms (like the Chaos I mentioned in my last post). Also in the mix this weekend is a special, and powerful Full Moon. According to everything I’ve read about it, it’s full of the power to aid you in releasing the old story, the pieces of your story that hold you back. It’s also about the power of embracing and living into the new.

And as the wind picks up, I see that reflected in the storm as well. It’s a little scary. It could get dark and messy and uncomfortable for a while. But it’s somewhat exhilarating, and somehow refreshing too. Like it’s wiping the slate clean for a new beginning.


October 12, 2016
by Angela
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Creative Power in the Chaos

Creative Power in the Choas

This afternoon I was sitting in the studio with my most recent intuitive painting (see image above). When I have the room, I often leave them up for a day or two after completing them to let their energy continue to fill the space. And sometimes, as is the case with this one, they have more wisdom to impart as well.

When I first completed it, I remember just thinking, “Chaos, that just looks like chaos.” My life has been rather chaotic lately, so I thought maybe that was that. But I noticed that rather than feeling painful and anxious, the energy emanating from it was full of power and creation. This made me realize that maybe it’s just a matter of attitude whether it’s chaos or creative power.

As I move forward in recreating my life, I choose to embrace the CREATIVE POWER that resides within the CHAOS. There’s a lot of power there.

September 20, 2016
by Angela

Experiencing painting as a loving healing practice

In my last blog post I shared some of the benefits I enjoy from the practice of intuitive process painting. And during the recent weekend painting intensive I held at Painted Crow, I experienced a new one that was quite profound and is still strongly sticking with me nearly 3 weeks later.

To tell it properly, I have to start earlier that week. I had found that being more settled into my new place, my new home where I now live alone, brought up another layer of stuff about my uncoupling to work through, and I had been feeling sad and subdued for much of the week.

Since it wasn’t a full class that weekend, and they were returning students who wouldn’t hesitate to interrupt me when they needed help, I decided to paint along with them. So we painted. For hours. And then we took a lunch break and came back and painted for more hours.

One of the guidelines for this type of painting is that we work in silence – no music, and very little talking. And when I work by myself, I have to admit that I don’t always strictly follow this because, well, no one is there to make me! And it can be very uncomfortable because one of the reasons for it is that the silence lets you really feel what you’re feeling, and think what you’re thinking, without distraction or influence. (But, as my mentor once said when I was feeling uncomfortable at a weeklong retreat, “I didn’t bring you here to be comfortable.”)

So my mind decided to go on a full rampage of thoughts and feelings full of doubt and fear and loss and grief and unworthiness, and feeling unloved and alone, and more fear and… So yeah, not fun.

But the truly intriguing part was that through all of this, my painting wasn’t expressing any of these things. Instead, it seemed to be trying to comfort me. These paintings don’t always have meaning, and we’re not trying to make meaning with them. We’re just following the promptings of color and shape, asking simply, what next? But this one was being very insistent on continuing to comfort me. The final strokes were these little wavy circles around some gold spheres and for some reason they just brought/bring me such a profound sense of peace.

So I went home, had my dinner, and then cried the rest of the night. The thoughts and feelings were still with me big time, and the crying helped to release the ones the painting loosened up.

When I got to the studio the next morning I was a little curious, but apprehensive about what this day’s painting would bring. The first thing I noticed is that the barrage of thoughts was gone. I was just painting, following the brush. A big gold heart and all these snakes started showing up weaving through it. I was like, ok, snakes can represent change and transformation, so maybe this will be a deeply meaningful painting too, but I’m not going to hold on to that, I’m just going to keep painting. What next?

And then we took our lunch break.

When we got back, the painting wanted a bunch of fluorescent pink spheres all over it. Ok. And then I stepped back and said what next? And it came to me really strongly to make them into smiley faces! I laughed out loud! And I did it, and I giggled as I did it and felt so happy! And with that all those feelings and thoughts from the previous day felt lifted, and I felt sooooooo much better and lighter.

Sure, there’s more to process. LOTS. And yes, I still feel downright depressed at times. But the painting that comforted me, and is still actively comforting me, now hangs in my new living room. And I have this amazing, magical, loving, beautiful process to turn to again and again and again. That I can turn up for exactly as I am – without expectations to be an artist, to be inspired, to be someone who’s got their s#*% together. I don’t even need to know the words for how I’m feeling. And if I allow myself to truly be in the process, it never fails me.

And I’m going to offer the weekend intensive again and again and again too! I wasn’t the only one experiencing huge transformations that weekend simply by being given the space, and permission, to paint so deeply for so long. We all did. And that’s something I really want to share more often. So I’ve scheduled the next one for the weekend of October 22nd & 23rd.

I invite you to allow yourself the gift of this amazing process, the gift of permission to give yourself this magical, nourishing, loving time for you to connect with, well, you! Permission to experience long, uninterrupted time of expressing yourself freely, communing with your creativity and nourishing your soul.

If you’re interested in being a part of it, let me know soon (registration deadline is October 19th). To make sure there’s space for everybody’s vision, and to keep the class to an intimate size, there’s only room for a few lucky women, so make sure you’re one of them!

August 25, 2016
by Angela
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So… How are you doing?


image1 (5)

I get this a lot when someone finds out that my husband and I are splitting up. I’m usually just as surprised as they are that my honest-to-god answer is that I’m actually doing really well. And I have to tell you that if this had happened as recently as three years ago, that would not have been the case. I would have been a complete and utter mess. So how can I be doing so well now?

As I mentioned in my last post, the biggest contributor to getting me through this very rough transition has been, and is, my intuitive process painting practice.

How could something as simple as brushing tempera paint onto paper without concern for the product be such powerful support in such a disorienting, often quite painful process? How can art help heal a broken life?

I have some trouble answering this “how”, but I know it works. Here are a few things I have gained, and continue to receive, from this amazing practice, especially in reference to my ongoing process of uncoupling.

I am more strongly connected to me, to my strength, my love, my fierceness, my creative power (my power to create art, and also my power to create a new life for myself). And through that connection I am less dependent on an other, or on outer circumstances, to validate me, to define me. What I need is truly within me, I just need to be willing to listen and to trust it. And this practice has helped me learn to trust myself and my connection to Source as nothing else ever has.

I can point to specific paintings I’ve done over the past year or so that helped me to access the emotions that needed to be felt on this journey of uncoupling, emotions I was hiding from or blocking, or didn’t even know I had, like fear and anger and grief. It helped me to embrace and truly process them, not just express them. And this helped me to embrace greater levels of joy and excitement too. It helped me to see the possibilities of change, not just the fear. I’ve learned that there are no “bad” emotions, there is just greater discomfort with some more than others. And I have learned to be more comfortable with that discomfort because I have learned that the only true way out is through.

Perhaps most of all his practice has helped me to accept that uncoupling is a process. And just like with intuitive process painting, there is no right or wrong way to feel, no due date for getting through it or over it, no expectation for how it should look, or how it should turn out.

So beginning on Tuesday, September 6th, I’m offering a special Creative Flight series just for women going through the uncoupling process to reconnect with themselves and their creative power, and to connect meaningfully with other women going through uncoupling. Whether you’re uncoupling a marriage or some other form of partnership, whether it’s happening now, it happened in the recent past, or it happened a while ago but it still feels pretty fresh, I invite you to allow yourself access to this amazing practice, to let it nourish you and give you strength, to let it support you in your process. I also invite you to share this information with anyone you feel might benefit from it.

If you have any questions, please contact me at You can find out more about Painted Crow and intuitive process painting at

August 9, 2016
by Angela

Packing up a life

Today, I’m packing. Not the kind of packing I’ve been doing lately to travel. I’m packing up my house in preparation for moving to a new place. The real difference is that this new place is just for me, because my marriage of 21+ years is ending. I am a very private person, and sharing this online was not my first inclination. But when I decided that I needed to share it, I spent days, and much ink, trying to say it in just the right way. To say it in some poetic way that perfectly summed up all the battling emotions – the despair and the spark of possibility, the grief and the growth, the waves of bafflement and the bright shards of clarity. And I was getting nowhere and not making a lot of sense. And that’s because I’m still in the process, in the process of separating from who and what I thought would make up the rest of my life, and many parts of my life aren’t making a lot of sense right now either.
But I do know this much: I know that there are two things that are largely responsible for helping me get through this very disorienting process in a way that is not just surviving something I thought could never happen (and if it did, that it would be the end of me), but also finding a way to truly grow and thrive in the experience. One is my intuitive painting practice (the same that I teach here at Painted Crow), the other is making a point of regularly connecting with female friends.
And this is why I needed to share. Because I want to make these healing practices available to other women who are also experiencing, or have recently experienced, uncoupling from a major relationship. So this fall I will be adding another Creative Flight class time that is specifically for these women to gather in a safe space to connect with each other, and to reconnect with themselves and their creativity through the practice of intuitive process painting. A new Painted Crow schedule is in the works (between packing and unpacking boxes and re-creating my life) and is coming very soon, so stay tuned. If you have any questions, please email me at


May 29, 2016
by Angela
1 Comment

Sad Artist Diary: Exiled From My Studio

It is a dark time at the Painted Crow Studio—literally. Thanks to power fluctuations in our building, my Wednesday evening students had to REALLY trust in the process by painting in the dark. (Thankfully, here in the Northwest daylight lasts a good long while at this time of year.)

Then things went, for want of a better word, kablooey. Power surges destroyed a designer neighbor’s microwave and countless light bulbs, as well as other equipment. The management locked down the entire building while they and city workers try to figure out what’s happening and put a stop to it.

As a result, I had to reschedule my Saturday class. But what really hurts is that I can’t get into my studio and paint.  Here I am, on fire with inspiration from my trip down to Cannon Beach, OR for my Essentia project, and my art studio and all my supplies are literally locked away for days. Woe!

What’s an artist to do?

Well, some artists would smash a window, climb through, and paint anyway. This is of course a terrible idea, though the headline LOCAL ARTIST ARMED WITH BRUSH IN TENSE STANDOFF WITH POLICE would be interesting.

Instead of breaking and entering, I spent today working on the business side of things. I made plans for a new, self-guided, online creativity course, and started a new Twitter feed for Painted Crow at @PaintedCrowArt. (Please follow me there! I can’t get in my studio, and desperately need validation!)

But it’s just not enough, alas.  It’s frustrating to have a clear vision that needs to be expressed, but my space and my tools are taken away. “Oh, just paint outside with whatever you have!” say my inner critics, who should really shut up already. I wouldn’t suggest that an accountant without her computer just draw a spreadsheet on a paper grocery bag, or a mechanic whose garage is shut down to do the same repairs in a residential driveway using a hammer and screwdriver. Some projects just come to a standstill when you don’t have the right space or tools.

So until this Sad Artist can get back in the studio, maybe you could cheer her up by donating a few dollars so she can travel down the Pacific coast and capture the beauty of its landscapes! Or you can just take her out to coffee and tell her she’s good and worthwhile, and that all the bad electrical problems will go away soon.

April 10, 2016
by Angela
1 Comment

The Whole Artist: Reclaiming a Sense of Safety


As I begin teaching my new course The Whole Artist, as ever, I’m finding myself reminded that one of the most challenging things about creating art, or anything really (a painting, a dance, writing this…) is slowing down enough to be truly present with it.

Slowing down brings with it a lot of fear in a world of distraction and busy-ness. Slowing down means going deeper, it means being still, not busy. It opens the possibility of entering the unknown, and that can be scary as all get out. The ”known”, even if not great, is at least known, and a certain amount of comfort can be felt in that.

But it’s illusory. Because it isn’t soul comfort, it’s ego comfort. And ego comfort is fleeting. Soul comfort is constant, even in times of seeming uncertainty and discomfort.

Slowing down enough to connect to that essence of true comfort is essential to making art, to being able to take the risks inherent in the artist’s journey. For the artist must be able to journey into the unknown, into mystery. The journey of finding magic and soul and the sublime hidden below the surface of this surface-focused world, and of sharing it with a world drowning in busy-ness and disconnection.

In order to take this huge leap, this first risk of slowing down enough to see and then to engage in an act of creation, one must reclaim a sense of safety in a world that doesn’t value stillness and that sometimes seems intent on destroying everything.

So, already, as we prepare to place our very first step onto the path, the journey can feel fraught with danger, and we haven’t even truly begun yet. No wonder so many turn from the path and return to the illusory comforts of the known. To be an artist is to see the world differently – a world more alive and more scary, and yet also more beautiful and comforting than was thought possible.

So we begin our journey by building a sense of safety and trust – trust in our own voice, our own wisdom, our own vision. And we do this by entering the unknown, slowing down and being present to it.

February 22, 2016
by Angela



The Whole Artist: Spring 2016

Dates: 9 Saturdays, April 2nd – Jun 4th, 2016 (no class on May 21st)

In order to assure that each student gets personal, individualized attention, space is very limited.

Click Here to Claim Your Spot

The Whole Artist: Alive in the Process

Longing to be more creative and expressive?

The desire to creatively express ourselves is a universal human longing. But so often when we act on that longing, we’re told that creative expression is only for a few special people who are “good” at art; that there’s only value in it if we can make money from it, or we devote our entire lives to it, or we get really, really good at it really, really fast. Many of us have been so damaged by our forays into the creative realm that we just give up.


The problem, simply put, is that all of the focus is on the product.


The solution is to shift the focus back where it belongs.


Whether creativity is your passion, your living, or the thing you’ve denied yourself and now yearn for—in EVERY case the best way to feel more creative and alive is to minimize judgment and place the emphasis on the process, and on the ARTIST, over the product.


Whether you are an artist seeking new inspiration or struggling with creative block, or someone who yearns to be more expressive but doesn’t know how, if you don’t have a solid inner foundation, the pressure to “deliver” will empty the creative well. The thirst to create remains; but you’ll find it harder and harder to access the spirit that makes creation possible.


You might find your thoughts dominated by self-recrimination and fear that keep you from knowing and expressing your true self in your art—and in your life. Not trusting yourself, you begin to devalue yourself. From feelings of desperation and helplessness you might start to copy the people you see as being “actually creative” in the hope that you can feel alive and creative again.

Alive in the process = Alive in the product

Would you be surprised if I told you that when you learn to stop worrying about the end product and trust your intuition and inner wisdom, you will make better art? And that unblocking your creativity even leads to a better life?


It’s true! When you shift your focus away from the end product, and prioritize your intuition and inner wisdom over your judging mind, you begin to access a wider range of impulses and inspiration.


When artists take my courses, it’s because they want to create for fun, without the pressure of expectations, to loosen up a bit. But as we work together, it becomes something more profound. They start to breathe fully again. They begin to realize how cut off they’ve become from the wellspring of creativity that gives their life and work meaning and authenticity.


Want-to-be artists come to me saying they would love be able to paint beautiful pictures, but they just don’t have the skills. As we talk more, what emerges is that it’s not a just a matter of skill at all. They’re actually yearning for the same things as the artist: they feel stuck or blocked, and what they truly long for is to feel more creative and alive.

I feel your pain.  No, literally!

I’ve taken a LOT of art classes in my life – years and years of them (it’s kind of a requirement when you’re working toward your MFA at an art school). But until I began to study intuitive process painting, none of them provided any real support for the artist herself!


Why is that important? Because making art can be tough. It takes years of practice to master the skills you need to realize your vision on canvas, clay, or other medium. It takes deep soul work to make meaning and to express yourself authentically. And all the while, you’re dealing with the near constant state of judgment from your own inner critic as well as from external sources. It’s a rare artist who doesn’t succumb to doubt and creative block (as I did) at some point.


As someone who for years was blocked, stuck, and in literal, physical pain from tendonitis and a repetitive strain injury in my painting shoulder, I know your struggle! But I also know that you can bring back your creative spark—change your story, and re-create your life to include more creativity, delight, inspiration, and meaning.

This is where THE WHOLE ARTIST comes in

“Art is neither a profession nor a hobby. Art is a way of BEING.” ~Frederick Franck


I created The Whole Artist course to support the whole artist, the whole person, not just her output. I did it because making art— authentic, satisfying, and expressive art—takes more than just skill and technique. Being an artist is a whole life endeavor, and approaching art as a way of being allows us to approach life itself as a work of art.


Creativity is a journey, and art a lifelong pursuit. The Whole Artist gives you sustenance for the road.


The Whole Artist consists of:

  • Nine 3-hour class sessions
  • Exercises to keep your momentum going between classes
  • Access to me via email if you need a little extra support


Some materials are provided, and you will receive a supply list upon registration for the rest. We’ll also plan a field trip to an art supply store early on in the course.


During the 9 weeks of classes, we will reclaim the power of process in painting for product. You will discover inspiration and support through playful explorations in:



Materials and techniques

Basic composition & color theory

Intuitive & expressive painting


And more…


Sound exciting? Click here to register!


The Whole Artist is a foundation to build on

One of the biggest challenges in creating this course was figuring out how to teach an in-depth art course that busy people could actually commit to. Art is a never-ending journey, and so much of it is about the experience and practice of it. Distilling an entire art education into just nine weeks would be impossible.


That’s why, once you have completed The Whole Artist, you’ll have the opportunity to take your creative practice further via independent study. Working one-on-one with me, at your pace and accommodating your schedule, we will go more in depth into an area of visual art you wish to explore further.

February 16, 2016
by Angela

Painting and Harry Potter’s Liquid Luck


Since the very sad news of Alan Rickman’s death in January of this year, I’ve been re-reading J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series of books. It’s been very enjoyable to dive into that wonderfully creative and magical world again, and delightful to be reminded of the parts that I had forgotten.

But the reason I felt the need to bring it up here is found in chapter 22 in the 6th book, The Half-Blood Prince, which I was reading last night. In that chapter, Harry, desperate to accomplish a task for Dumbledore and out of ideas, decides to drink the Felix Felicis, or Liquid Luck potion he had won earlier in the school year.

As I read the description of its effect on Harry, I nearly exclaimed (as my friends will attest I am often inspired to do), “Hey, that’s just like painting!”

Let me explain.

As the potion begins to work, Harry starts to follow his impulses, even as they stray from what his original plan was, what logic would dictate was the most likely way to accomplish his goal, with complete trust in the potion’s guidance in spite of his friends’ alarm.

“… an exhilarating sense of infinite opportunity stole through him; he felt as though he could have done anything, anything at all…and getting the memory from Slughorn seemed suddenly not only possible, but positively easy…”

“It was as if the potion was illuminating a few steps of the path at a time: He could not see the final destination… but he knew that he was going the right way… “

“… it occurred to him how very pleasant it would be to pass the vegetable patch on his walk to Hagrid’s. it was not strictly on the way, but it seemed clear to Harry that this was a whim on which he should act, so he directed his feet immediately toward the vegetable patch, where he was pleased, but not altogether surprised, to find Professor Slughorn in conversation with Professor Sprout.”

The scene goes on like that, with Harry listening to and acting on these inner promptings, and eventually accomplishing the task which had eluded him for so long.

If you substitute “intuition” for “potion”, this is an excellent description of the process of intuitive painting, and of one of it’s primary benefits: The strengthening of your ability to trust your own guidance. And, as I’ve learned since beginning this powerful practice myself, that in and of itself can feel like magic.

We live in a culture that panders to the ego, a culture where we are encouraged, both in subtle and in more overt ways, to trust external sources, advice, and opinions more than our own internal promptings, more than our own inner wisdom.

The magic of intuitive process painting, and of practicing art as a way of being (more about that very soon) is that we get to wake up our inner trust and let our souls come alive through color and play, no potions necessary.


June 15, 2015
by Angela

The Risk of Sharing


 “If you make things and share them, your heart will at some point be broken. If you never share, it will harden. Your choice.”
~Todd Henry, The Accidental Creative


I came across the above quote a few months ago, and wrote it down in my journal because it resonated as so strongly true.


At the time I was thinking primarily about my art, and how in many ways I had experienced a lot of heartache around sharing my art over the years – rejection, disappointing sales, hurt from (usually) well-intended words that nevertheless stung, flat-out thoughtless comments, galleries and shows that rejected my work, and galleries that accepted it and then put it in storage without telling me when they updated their stock, etc. Being an exhibiting artist takes a willingness to keep going in spite of the heartache and disappointment. It can be a lot of hard work, and the hardest part is to keep believing in yourself enough to do that.


And I have to admit that a few years ago, I stopped believing in myself enough to endure it any longer. It’s not that I allowed myself to actually admit to anybody, much less myself, that I was too emotionally wounded and tired. Oh no. My body stepped in and gave me the excuse I needed. It was around that time that my shoulder was causing me a lot of pain, so I let it be the reason to stop sharing, and to stop making art with the intention to share. I mean, yes, my shoulder did need therapy and rest, but if it hadn’t been for intuitive process painting, I probably would have stopped painting all together.


And that would have been a personal tragedy.


Because what I’ve been realizing about this quote is that it applies to all acts of creation, because all acts of creation are vulnerable to being criticized, unappreciated, destroyed, ignored, disrespected – whether it’s art, writing, music, acting, dancing, or a meal, a business, a mixed-tape, a blogpost, a life… And SHARE is another way to say take a RISK. Sometimes to share even with yourself.


To not take that risk is one of the most dangerous of all, the most heart-hardening – not allowing yourself to even know or to see your dreams and hopes for fear of a broken heart.


What I didn’t really know and understand a few years ago is what I really needed wasn’t to turn away from my dream, it was to be with the heartache, the brokenness that makes it possible for it to transform and grow. Because of the fear of heartache, I closed down part of my true self in order to try and protect my heart. All that actually accomplished was putting it into a too small box and hiding its light in the false hopes that it wouldn’t hurt anymore.


I am so thankful to my intuitive process painting practice, and to my training as a facilitator, that I came to learn that the way to heal, and not just hide this heartache is to keep creating through and with the broken heart. To keep sharing for that one person who needs what you create to be created – even when that one person is YOU.

What hopes and dreams are you hiding, from yourself and the world, for fear of heartache?

my paintings on display at Corina Bakery

my paintings on display at Corina Bakery

PS – I am sharing my artwork again. I’m starting slow, with the lovely Corina Bakery/coffee house that’s in the same building as my studio. I was shaking like a leaf as I placed the paintings, but it felt really good to have them exhibited somewhere besides my studio again.