I went to an art opening at the stunning home of a prolific artist friend. Her pieces range from 10 feet tall to 4 inch squares, every wall becomes her gallery. Her mediums include metal, mixed media, acrylic, words, photos, and more. I admire her work and adore her home.
I spent much of the evening entertaining the inner critic who chided me sharply for not making enough art, wrestling with more mediums, following my day dreams, creating a studio. As I walked down her hallway and spied a stack of books on her nightstand, I peeked at the book spines. Behind the books, one piece of art.
Carry on, love.