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

My First Juried Exhibition

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.

New Work: Bloom Under Pressure and Companion Pieces

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.

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.

Two of a Kind I & II

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.

Unique Together I & II

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.