Slow Burn
A blog by an artist — for artists, and for anyone who believes (or is learning to believe) that meaningful work takes time.
Welcome.
Slow Burn is an evolving, contemplative space for thinking through art, practice, and the kinds of questions that resist quick answers. It began as a place to reflect on my own work—both in the studio and through research—but it’s becoming something more: a quiet archive of process, slowness, and the long, often uncertain road of making meaningful things.
Here, time is not an enemy, but a material. This blog is part journal, part sketchbook, part letter to fellow artists and thinkers. Over time, you’ll find essays, studio notes, and reflections on process, teaching, and the seasons of a creative life. Some posts draw from personal experience, others from theory, history, and the words of artists and writers I admire.
What ties everything together is this: a deep commitment to trusting time—to allowing ideas, practices, and artworks to unfold at their own pace. There’s no rush here. No pressure to arrive quickly or perform clarity before it’s real. Just an invitation to linger, to notice, and to create from where you are.
If you’re someone who values depth over speed, process over perfection, and the slow, strange beauty of becoming — you’re in the right place.
Thank you for being here.
From Imposter Syndrome to Reconnection: A Quiet Return to Painting
A personal reflection on navigating imposter syndrome and creative disconnection — and how a quiet return to painting helped me reconnect with my work.
Passion and Pay: Living Life as an Artist with a Job
Balancing creative work with a full-time job can feel impossible—but it doesn’t have to mean giving up your practice. This post reflects on what it means to stay true to your artistic self, even when life pulls you in many directions.
Reflections on Artistic Time
Reflecting on how artistic time isn’t linear, this post invites you to trust your creative process and embrace your own unique pace.
Beginning Again: Art, Uncertainty, and Small Leaps
Beginning Again: Art, Uncertainty, and Small Leaps