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This week I saw my work hanging in a gallery for the very first time.

Unprompted is currently on display at the Alpharetta Arts Center as part of the Love Is show and I still can’t quite believe it.


This is my first juried exhibition. When I received the acceptance email, I cried. I know it’s a community art show, but it felt significant to me. 


Someone outside my immediate circle looked at my work and chose it.


Two Visits, Two Versions of Me


I went to see the piece twice.


The first time was midweek last week after a particularly hard day for me in corporate America. It had been emotional and draining. I almost didn’t go, but I did and Tristan came with me.


Walking into that space and seeing my painting on the wall, surrounded by so many beautiful works by other amazing artists, felt incredibly uplifting. 


When I looked back at the photos later, I saw how tired I looked. The day had taken its toll. For a moment I thought, I can’t share these. I look exhausted.


I went back on Saturday after my daughter’s tennis match. I stopped by again with just a few minutes to spare before closing. Daylight streamed through the windows and highlighted all of the pieces in beautiful natural light. Again, I felt lighter, happier, and present.


The photos from that visit are the ones I’m sharing, partly because the light is actually better, but mostly because they capture my joy more clearly.


What This Meant to Me



Seeing my work on display was more meaningful than I anticipated.


This art practice of mine, the one I’ve committed to nurturing each week for any spare time I have, exists completely separate from my corporate life. It isn’t tied to performance reviews, strategy decks, or difficult conversations.


Whatever comes of it, whether this piece sells, whether I get into more shows, whether it evolves into something bigger, the act of showing up consistently and growing as an artist is already rewarding.


What’s Next


Unprompted will be on display at the Alpharetta Art Center through February 28.

It is also currently available for purchase on my website. If it doesn’t sell, it already has a beautiful home in my living room.


I’m also planning to apply to more open calls this year. 


More than anything, I’m embracing the experience.


If you are local, I’d love for you to stop by and see the show to see the many other artists who also answered what “Love Is” to them.


And if you’ve been building something of your own, let this be your reminder to keep going.



 
 
 

Over the past several months, I’ve been finishing a series of paintings that began in different places. Some of these began months ago, some as sketches, some as near-abandoned experiments. Together, they form a small collection rooted in saturation, repetition, and the tension between beauty and unrest.

At the center of this release is Bloom Under Pressure.




This piece began as something entirely different. It started as an abstract base that I nearly covered in white. At one point, I thought I might start over completely. Instead, I painted through it.


As I worked, the world felt increasingly chaotic. Public unrest, economic headlines celebrating record markets, cultural tension simmering beneath the surface. There was a dissonance between what I saw being valued and what was visibly breaking.


That tension made its way into my painting.


Circular, floral-like forms bloom across the surface in saturated color; it’s almost too saturated. Acrylic layers build density and movement, while darker undertones of Prussian blue emerge beneath the vibrancy. What first reads as celebratory begins to feel unstable. Lush. Pressurized. Slightly decaying.

The work reflects the way beauty can coexist with strain and how excess can conceal fragility. It invites you to look longer. To notice what sits beneath.

Bloom Under Pressure is currently being professionally framed and will be available as a finished, ready-to-hang piece.





These companion works began as experiments on Bristol paper. They were explorations that I struggled with for weeks. At one point, I painted over them with white gesso, unhappy with where they were going. That didn’t solve it.

After bringing in new colors and allowing saturation to lead, the pieces shifted. They began to feel like dream landscapes of abstracted nature scenes rendered in heightened, technicolor tones. 


They hold the energy of repetition and movement. They are emotional landscapes, not physical ones.





These smaller canvas works also evolved slowly. Originally intended to be simpler floral compositions, they resisted restraint. Each time I thought they were finished, they weren’t.


The breakthrough came when I leaned into contrast by outlining forms in Payne’s gray, deepening shadows, and clarifying structure. The addition of a vase grounded them. 


They feel companionable; connected, but independent. Two variations within the same practice. 


What I’m Learning


Across these pieces, I’m noticing a pattern: I don’t love erasing or hiding my work with white or any other color. I’m more interested in building over, pushing saturation further, and letting density accumulate rather than flattening it out. 


At least for now. 


Up next is a new large canvas. In fact, it will be the largest I’ve worked on to date. It will explore the concept of Siege, inspired by Shostakovich’s Leningrad. That piece will live in its own conversation about expansion and growth under siege. It’s about pressure of a different kind: inspired by historical and current events but a more psychological and personal examination.


But for now, this release feels cohesive.


All works are one of a kind and available exclusively through mariajewett.com.

 
 
 

At the start of the new year, I set a small process-related goal: to begin keeping a color journal each time I paint, so that I have a log of the colors I use. I have a well-established journaling practice and have been journaling for years, but keeping a visual color journal is new for me. Usually, when I paint, I wing it by mixing intuitively and moving quickly without documenting much along the way. This month, I made a deliberate effort to slow down and record the colors I used each time I sat down to paint. 


I’m glad I did.


The first thing I noticed was how valuable it is to see paint swatches wet versus dry. Many of the colors actually became brighter and more beautiful once they dried, which isn’t always obvious at the moment. During my first attempt throughout the first week in January, I put paint down and then forgot to label it (not helpful, lol), but even those unlabeled swatches revealed how often I work within a similar palette unless I am intentionally limiting myself to primary colors.

By the second week of January, I got more disciplined. I began labeling each color with the paint name and simple abbreviations, which made a big difference. I could clearly see how colors interacted, like how medium magenta looked next to teal, even when they were not fully blended. 


One of the biggest lessons this month came from experimenting with how I create darker shades. Traditionally, I default to black. But I learned a tip (via Instagram—@malcolmmuronda) about using other colors instead. For example, instead of mixing black with yellow to create a darker, muddy greenish tone, I tried mixing yellow with raw sienna. The result was a richer, warmer dark that still felt like it had dimension instead of reading flat. That shift opened up a whole new way of thinking about depth and range of color in my paintings.


I also noticed how sensitive certain color combinations are. When I mix medium magenta with dioxazine purple, the result is saturated and vibrant. But adding even a small amount of black, white, or raw sienna softens that richness. Sometimes that’s exactly what I want, and seeing it documented helped me understand those choices more clearly.


Not surprisingly, magenta showed up again and again this month as it does almost every time I paint. From it came many purples and warm pinks, which makes me think during this cold, dark winter I must be craving spring. I also found myself drawn to darker yellows, especially cadmium yellow dark. I did some cooler color experiments with teal, and I’m especially loving Cerulean Blue Deep from Golden right now.


Colors I Used This Month


Most of the paints I used were from Golden, including both their Open (slow-drying) line and regular acrylics. My January palette included:

  • Dioxazine Purple

  • Cerulean Blue Deep

  • Naphthol Red Medium

  • Medium Magenta

  • Cadmium Yellow Dark

  • Raw Sienna

  • Teal

  • Ultramarine Blue

  • Black Gesso (Golden)

  • White Gesso (Liquitex)


I may have slipped cadmium red light once or twice, but overall, I mostly stayed away from it this month.


Looking ahead to February, I want to keep experimenting, especially with darker values. Instead of relying solely on black, I would love to do side-by-side comparisons: black versus a complementary or earth tone from the opposite side of the color wheel. I have been working a lot with tints and shades lately, and perhaps a bit less with midtones.


One habit that has been especially helpful: at the end of each painting session, I take an in-progress photo and convert it to monochrome. This immediately shows me where I might need deeper shadows, brighter highlights, or fewer midtones. It’s a technique I’ve learned from several artists, including Betty Franks and Jodi King, and it has been a game-changer for adding dimension and balance to my pieces.


I’m excited to see how this practice evolves as I continue documenting and paying closer attention to the color combinations I am creating. 


Yours in creativity,


Maria 

 
 
 

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