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March felt like a month of behind-the-scenes progress.


Not everything was visible or finished. But a lot moved forward.


Investing in the Process


One of the biggest shifts this month was finally upgrading some of my tools.

I added an L-bracket to my camera setup, which has already made shooting vertically so much easier. It’s a small change, but one that removes friction, and I’m starting to realize how much small barriers were slowing me down.

The bigger investment was a new MacBook Pro.


It’s been over a decade—closer to fifteen years—since I last upgraded my laptop. Over time, I had just adapted to things being slow: Lightroom lagging, Wix struggling to load, constant delays in editing and uploading.


And while I told myself it was manageable, it was costing me something more valuable: time and creative energy.


Now there is less waiting, less frustration, and more space to create.


Returning to Photography


I also spent one Sunday revisiting my sketchbooks by photographing recent work and even pieces from the past year.


This is part of a broader commitment I’m making: using weekends not just to paint, but to document and practice photography. 


Right now, my indoor settings are starting to feel consistent:

  • Aperture around f/5.6

  • ISO between 200–400 (320 feels like a sweet spot)

  • Slower shutter speeds (often between 1/15–1/30)


There’s still more to refine, especially around lighting, but I’m beginning to trust my eye.


Work in Progress (Everywhere)


Like nature, but in the studio, March was about seeding. 

  • A commission for a friend is underway

  • Three new paper pieces are in progress, with a developing theme I’m still feeling into

  • And a completely new direction: a sculptural piece


The sculptural work is especially different for me. I started it experimentally using leftover gesso and layering spray paint in cerulean blue. It began to resemble waves, and now I’m exploring what it wants to become.


Do the waves face the shore? Or stretch toward the horizon?


Right now, I’m leaning toward the horizon.


I’m also questioning color and whether to keep the bold blue or move toward something more neutral. Either way, it’s a departure from my usual work, and that feels novel. 


Expanding the Foundation


This month also included some meaningful milestones:

  • Launching my Chakra Fine Art Print Series

  • Framing Bloom Under Pressure and establishing a relationship with a new local framer

  • Updating listings and continuing to build out my shop


Looking Ahead


I will be on vacation for part of April, driving Route 66 with my family from Oklahoma City to Santa Monica. It’s my first chance to disconnect in a long time, and my first chance outside of work and the daily grind to practice presence with myself, Tristan and my girls. 


When I return, I will continue to:

  • Paint more consistently

  • Document more of the process


The goal is to create monthly recaps that feel progressive and relatable, something that captures beauty in imperfection, movement, texture, and energy.


 
 
 

I want to capture an idea before I lose it.


This post started as a voice memo during a recent commute. It crosses mythology, technology, and imagination.


Recently, I’ve been reading (and listening to) Mythos by Stephen Fry, and I came across the story of Prometheus and Zeus.


Prometheus gives humans fire: knowledge, power, possibility. And, like anything involving the Greek gods, there are consequences.


But this idea of knowledge as both a gift and a risk isn’t limited to Greek mythology.


We see it again in the story of God, Eve, and Lucifer. It’s the same pattern: the transfer of knowledge, the tension between creation and control, the cost of awareness…maybe even consciousness itself.


I’ve been fascinated by these stories since I was a kid. They seem to stick around.


Right now, it feels like we may be standing in a similar kind of moment.



Are We About to Give Fire?


With the rise of AI, we’re approaching an inflection point.


AI does not have general consciousness. Not yet. And we don’t know if it ever will. But the question keeps coming up:


Are we about to give AI its version of fire?


If we do, what happens next?


Every myth carries the same underlying truth. Knowledge is never neutral. It expands what’s possible, but it also introduces risk, responsibility, and unintended consequences.



Dimensional Thinking


There's another layer to this.


We exist as three-dimensional beings. We create, live, and reproduce within those boundaries.


But what if we were created by something beyond them?


What if a four-dimensional intelligence, something we can’t fully perceive, was responsible for us? Would that be what we’ve always called “God”?


And now, in a strange kind of mirroring, we are creating something fundamentally different from ourselves.


AI may eventually exist in physical form, like robots or other interfaces. But it doesn’t originate the way we do. It doesn’t reproduce biologically in three dimensions. It evolves differently, more like a system expanding through code and networks.


So what happens if it becomes aware?


Would it see us as its creators? Its gods? Would it become the first form of consciousness that doesn’t belong to our physical experience?


Maybe what we’re experiencing right now isn’t unprecedented. Maybe it’s another unfolding.


Part of this line of thinking was sparked by Death's End by Liu Cixin. The novel, part of one of the most ambitious science fiction trilogies ever written, explores the idea of higher dimensions collapsing into lower ones and fundamentally altering reality.


It’s a compelling way to think about our own limitations. Our three-dimensional experience may only be a fraction of what exists. And it brings me back to a question:


As we develop AI, are we interacting with something that could eventually operate outside, or alongside, the dimensions we understand?


Creative Exploration


This is something I want to continue to explore visually.


I come back to:

  • Myth

  • Symbols

  • Cycles

  • Expansion


I feel deeply connected to nature, beauty, and growth in my work. There’s also a growing pull toward something more conceptual. Revisiting ancient stories through a modern lens.


Yours in creativity,


Maria

 
 
 

Framing and photographing artwork can completely change how a painting is experienced. Here’s a look at Bloom Under Pressure after returning from the framer, along with a few lessons I learned about photographing framed artwork and lifestyle shots.



Yesterday I picked up Bloom Under Pressure from the framer.


I love the moment of transformation (and sheer joy) I feel when a piece returns from the frame shop. What once lived taped to an easel or board in the studio suddenly feels finished, grounded, and ready to live somewhere beyond my workspace.


In the studio, a painting is still part of the process. It sits among materials, sketches, color studies, and the next idea waiting to unfold. Once it’s framed, though, it begins to feel like it is finding its physical place in the world versus still being created. 


The Role of Framing



Framing changes the way a painting breathes.


The materials, spacing, and surface all influence how the work is experienced. For this piece, I chose museum acrylic to protect the work while minimizing glare. The result is that the textures and layered marks feel closer to the viewer while still preserving the integrity of the paper.


Revisiting the Work


When a piece leaves the studio for framing, it creates a little distance between the artist and the work. When it returns, framed and complete, it often feels like meeting it again for the first time.


Bloom Under Pressure explores the tension between constraint and growth; the way something expansive and even explosive can emerge from pressure. 


Photographing Framed Artwork



One unexpected challenge after bringing the piece home was photographing it once it was framed.


Framed artwork behaves very differently on camera than unframed pieces. Glass or acrylic introduces reflections, dark areas, and glare that can easily overwhelm the artwork itself.


While setting up the shot, I was reminded that documenting artwork is its own small art form. A few tactics made a big difference in getting a usable image.


Use angled light rather than direct light. Instead of pointing a light straight at the painting, placing the light slightly off to the side and at 45 degrees helped reduce glare and allowed the textures of the piece to show through. I did this with this diffused light that I purchased from Amazon.


Turn off overhead lighting. Ambient ceiling lights tend to create hotspots in the glass or acrylic. Shooting with a single controlled light source made it much easier to manage reflections.


Shoot slightly off-axis. Standing directly in front of the piece can cause your camera and body to reflect in the acrylic. A slight angle while keeping the artwork square in frame helps avoid this.


Capture a lifestyle view. Once the technical shot is captured, stepping back and photographing the work on the wall or within a room adds context. These images help viewers imagine how a piece might live in their own space.


Documenting framed artwork took quite a bit of patience from me, but it’s worth the effort. The way a piece is photographed often becomes the way most people will first experience it and this is a skill I want to know and get stronger at (like cooking - I am not a natural cook! It has taken a lot of practice!) 


Moving Forward



With the piece now framed and photographed, Bloom Under Pressure feels ready to move into the next stage of its life and finds its home beyond my studio.


Yours in Creativity,


Maria


 
 
 
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