On Painting, Redstarts, and Showing Up Anyway

I sat down to paint a Painted Redstart and halfway through, I wanted to give up.

This little bird—ink-black body, bright red belly, clean white wing bars—should have been a joy to paint. It’s the kind of bird that seems born for art: bold, vivid, dramatic in its contrast. And I panicked.

I wanted it to be good. Not just decent, but technically skilled. I could feel that old ache rising in my chest—the desire to be seen as someone who knows what she’s doing.

Maybe you know what it feels like: the sense that despite years of practice and accumulating skills, you feel that nothing you do will ever be good enough. And that feeling makes it hard to show up in public, especially in a place like this, a site where people scroll past without a word.

Painted Redstart in watercolor. I panicked halfway through the belly. Studies like this aren’t for finishing: they’re for learning.

But here’s what I’ve learned from sharing my work anyway: showing up is an act of love. Not because the results are perfect, but because they’re offered. If I keep everything I know to myself, anyone who might learn, grow, or be encouraged misses out.

Why I Chose The Painted Redstart

Part of why I renamed my publication The Painted Redstart is because this little bird feels like a mirror of the creative life I’m trying to live.

“Painted” speaks to what I do as an artist—but also to color, play, and the act of making. “Redstart,” a name for several small, lively birds, suggests energy, movement, and spark.

The Painted Redstart is a real and rather extraordinary species. Both males and females wear the same vivid plumage. Both sing. There’s a kind of creative equity in that—an invitation to show up boldly, no matter who you are.

To me, the Painted Redstart has become a metaphor for creative practice itself: lively, unexpected, joyful, and meant to be shared. A kind of divine spark in the trees.

Painted Redstart, watercolor study. As I practiced, I began to trust the watercolor.

What You’ll Find Here

This publication isn’t just about me learning to draw and paint better. It’s about helping you to do that, too. My hope is that together, we’ll create works of meaning that celebrate nature, caring, and resilience.

Under the wings of The Painted Redstart, you’ll find

• Illustrations of birds and nature in ink, watercolor, and mixed media

• Sketches from everyday life—from parking lots to pilgrimages

• Comics about birds, daily life, and nature

• Gentle invitations to notice more and draw more

A Bit More, Just for Insiders

When you become a paid subscriber, you’ll start receiving

• Premium posts that include tips and advice on drawing birds

• Sketchbook shares, from bird studies to urban sketches

• Gentle comics, in-progress pieces, and reflections on wonder

• Digital resources to help you grow your own drawing practice

Insiders also get access to Substack’s chat feature where you can ask questions and share your work.

Whether you’re reading quietly or jumping in as an Insider, I am so glad you’re here. I hope you’ll find something in these offerings that inspires you and encourages your own creative journey.

Painted Redstart, third and final study. With this one, I finally lost myself in the learning.

If I learned one thing from painting this little bird, it’s this: creativity, like love, is meant to be shared.

A warm, personal space for bird lovers, nature seekers, and aspiring artists. Illustrations, behind-the-scenes sketches, and gentle encouragement to help you draw and paint the natural world. Come for the birds, stay for the brushstrokes.