The snow falls softly outside my studio window, each flake a gentle reminder of winter's invitation to slow down. In the North, this season has its own rhythm – deliberate, unhurried, asking us to turn inward just as the animals retreat to their dens and the trees draw their energy deep into their roots.
This natural pause in the landscape mirrors my own creative hibernation. As 2025 unfolds, I find myself questioning not just what I want to create, but why. The blank canvases in my studio seem to hold different possibilities now. They ask for more than mere representation of the winter scenes outside – they ask for truth, for resonance, for work that speaks to something deeper.
My recent walks in the silent forest have sparked a shift in how I see my practice. Where I once sought to capture the external beauty of our northern landscape, I'm now drawn to explore the spaces between – the shadows cast by bare branches, the negative space of snow against rock, the subtle gradients of gray in winter light. These elements speak to the contemplative nature of the season and the direction I feel pulled toward in my work.
Looking ahead, I'm letting go of “should” – those expectations and self-imposed rules that can constrain authentic expression. Instead, I'm listening to what genuinely moves me. Perhaps this means fewer pieces but deeper exploration. Maybe it means experimenting with new media that better capture the essence of what I'm trying to convey. The winter landscape teaches us that there is beauty in reduction, in stripping things down to their essential elements.
I'm reminded of the Indigenous teachings about this season – that winter is not just an ending but a beginning, a time of stories and dreams that plant seeds for spring's renewal. In this spirit, I'm using these quiet winter months to realign my creative compass. Some projects will be laid to rest like leaves under snow, while new ideas are taking root in the fertile darkness.
To my fellow artists and art lovers, I invite you to embrace this season of reflection. What calls to your spirit? What stories are waiting to be told through your chosen medium? Sometimes the most important work happens in these fallow periods, when we appear still on the surface but are deep in the process of becoming.
As the winter deepens, I'll be in my studio, experimenting, reflecting, and allowing my practice to evolve organically. I look forward to sharing this journey with you, as the season unfolds and new directions emerge from the quiet.
Until next time,
Bridgette
