Bloom Under Pressure, Framed

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

The Chakra Series: Seven Abstract Prints Inspired by Energy and Color

The Chakra Series began several years ago as an exploration of color and energy. I originally painted these pieces while experimenting with layered forms and intuitive mark-making. Around that same time, I was reading Anodea Judith’s Eastern Body, Western Mind while pursuing my Reiki Master level, and I discovered that painting felt like a natural way to explore Reiki energy through color and movement.

Recently, as I revisited my archive to photograph my work and began expanding my print offerings, the series resurfaced. Seeing the paintings together again reminded me how naturally they form a progression through color and movement.

Each piece loosely reflects one of the seven chakras, exploring how color, form, and energy can shift across a sequence of paintings. While each painting’s dominant color corresponds to its chakra, I intentionally incorporated touches of every color throughout the series, allowing the paintings to feel interconnected rather than isolated.

Together, the series traces a visual path from grounding to openness:

Root — grounding and stability

Sacral — creativity and flow

Solar Plexus — confidence and energy

Heart — connection and compassion

Throat — expression and truth

Third Eye — intuition and clarity

Crown — awareness and expansion

What I love most about this series is how the pieces function both individually and collectively. Each painting holds its own energy, but together they create a rhythm across the wall.

To celebrate the series, I’ve released fine art prints of each painting, as well as a complete Chakra Series set for collectors who want to experience the full progression.

If you're curious, you can explore the prints here: https://www.mariajewett.com/category/print-shop

Revisiting this work reminded me how much I enjoy working in series, and it makes me excited to explore another interpretation of this theme now that a few years have passed.

February: Expansion Under Pressure

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/2dd249_416b47f48c384f81b1415b7fd7b6f32e/1080p/mp4/file.mp4

February was the kind of month that happened in layers, like in color journals, in torn substrate, in dried gesso experiments, in honest reflection. I welcomed new firsts and parted ways with old, dried-out paint and materials that no longer served me.

Returning to Process

At the start of the year, I committed to something simple: keeping a color journal.

Instead of winging it, I recorded the paint combinations I used each time I sat down to work. I loved watching the colors shift from wet to dry — there’s something fascinating about that transformation. It also revealed how consistent my instincts are.

I return to similar palettes, but with slight shifts. This month I played with burnt umber and burnt sienna layered against quinacridone magenta and ultramarine blue. The finished work carried layers that looked joyful at first glance but held tension underneath.

What gave me clarity:

• My voice isn’t random.

• My color language is emerging.

• Repetition is the beginning of identity.

  
  

Material Play (and Letting Go)

February was also about experimentation.

I revived dried gesso. I pressed hardened texture into canvas. I layered gel medium over what looked like ocean fragments.

I also tossed dried cadmium red that couldn’t be saved. Instead of feeling wasteful, it felt like growth; mostly. I still had to work through the discomfort.

Part of becoming more serious about your work is accepting material loss. Not everything is meant to be resurrected. Not every tube needs saving.

Creative maturity sometimes looks like letting go of outgrown materials. Maybe it’s less about “throwing things away” and more about thanking them, releasing them, and allowing their energy to move forward in a different way.

Collage & Surface

I explored using old palettes as collage material.

There’s something interesting about the residue of past paintings becoming the structure of new ones. It reminds me of gardening: collecting seeds in the fall so they can be planted again in the spring. I just started my spring seed trays using seeds saved from last year.

Energy & Momentum

February also brought consistency in my creative business.

• Publishing blog posts.

• Sharing process videos.

• Photographing work with more intention.

• Letting more people see that I am, in fact, an artist.

  
  

Closing the Month

I’m ending February by picking up Unprompted from the Alpharetta Arts Center, closing out my first juried exhibition.

Seeing that piece installed in a public space was a milestone. Bringing it home feels like both a completion and a beginning.

What I’m learning is that growth looks like:

• Documentation deepening clarity.

• Texture being more fun than perfection.

• Releasing what no longer works.

  
  

Yours in creativity,

Maria