I know this might sound crazy, but it only dawned on me this year that I am an artist. No, I didn’t look up the definition and make that decision. Nobody tapped me on the shoulder and proclaimed it for me. I only had to look around my house to see the evidence everywhere.

You, too, may have a talent or skill that it’s time to acknowledge. It’s time to do a complete self-analysis and embrace everything that makes us unique.

I’ve been painting, drawing, writing, journaling, and creating since I could hold a pencil. But only recently have I accepted that even my doddle counts as art if I want them to. So, I’m choosing to embrace all my creative outlets, which include more than my writing.

I will include more in my Newsletter than just my writing side. I want to publicize the other things that wake up my muse and get the creative juices flowing. Now I accept the word ‘artist’ is broader than I ever imagined, and by not seeing the whole picture, I lived in constraints that hampered my creativity.


Along with this newfound knowledge came the realization that I fuel my creativity in several ways connected in one form or another. I can’t recognize one and ignore all the others because, on most days, I do more of the other stuff than I do writing. In the past, I never gave myself an atta-boy for the different outlets, which has hampered my growth, happiness, and success.

The Everyday Artist is my way of recognizing the activities that stir my soul, bring me joy, and lead to all kinds of happy doodles, manuscripts, paintings, planner spreads, and journals.


So please travel with me on this creative road while I honor all the things that make me, me and share them on all my platforms.


I am an artist and I always have been. When I was young a new coloring book and crayons could keep me busy for hours. I remember taking my time and trying to make each page a piece of art.


After grade school I graduated from coloring books to drawing, with scads of paper everywhere. Each drawing came with a story.  There was a point during my adolescent years that I papered my bedroom wall with characters and made up intensely fulfilling lives for each one of them.  Thinking back on it now, they were couples, maybe ten or fifteen of them. Even then I must have known I had a passion for writing romance and women’s fiction.

I’ve dabbled in oils and acrylics paints.  At one time, I fashioned myself a painter.  I had the easel and the coffee can full of paint brushes. But now my canvases are stored in the basement collecting dust. I had a stint with ceramics and or course my first love, writing.

There are probably hundreds of ways to demonstrate artistic expression. These were just a few of mine.  Like writing they brought me a sense of calm and joy. My artistic work provides an outlet for the stuff cramming for attention in my brain.   It allows me to produce something that only I can, my signature in a way.

I venture that everyone has a way of expressing themselves in some unique method. Whether it’s writing something, building something, baking something or playing something, there’s an artist in you, too.