I Sold A Painting!!

Last week, something happened that I honestly never expected to affect me as deeply as it did.

I sold my very first painting.

Not a journal.
Not a bundle of gathered papers.
Not a class.

A painting.

And when I say I cried… I truly cried.

As a mixed-media artist, I’ve always created from feeling more than perfection. Layers of paper, texture, marks, fragments, and emotion have always felt natural to me. But painting? Painting felt different. Vulnerable somehow.

Especially growing up surrounded by incredible artists.

My daughter and my mother both went to art school. They can paint portraits and landscapes so beautifully that they almost look like photographs. Their talent has always amazed me. And if I’m being honest, for a long time I quietly convinced myself that because I didn’t paint like that, maybe I wasn’t really an artist at all.

But art has a funny way of teaching us where we belong.

Because the truth is, creativity was never meant to be a comparison. It was meant to be an expression.

My work is layered and imperfect. Emotional. Textured. Collected. Worn around the edges. It tells stories in a different language.

And last week, someone saw value in that language.

Someone connected enough with something I created with my own hands and heart that they wanted to bring it into their home.

I cannot fully explain what that felt like.

It wasn’t really about “selling” a painting.

It was the quiet realization that there is room for all kinds of artists. Even the ones who doubted themselves. Even the ones who create differently. Even the ones who are still learning to call themselves artists out loud.

I think sometimes we wait for permission to begin. Permission to create. Permission to share. Permission to take ourselves seriously.

But maybe the real magic happens when we simply start anyway.

This first painting sold may seem small to some people, but to me, it felt like opening a door I’ve been standing outside of for years.

And for that, I am deeply grateful.

Maybe creativity isn’t about mastering perfection. Maybe it’s about having the courage to leave pieces of yourself behind in what you create. What are your thoughts?

​Until next time...