- nessart16
- Jan 7, 2025
- 3 min read

Welcome to the first instalment of my 2025 calendar blog series! Over the year, I’ll be taking you behind the scenes of each month’s illustration, sharing the stories, memories, and reflections that inspired them. This is The Canvas in January.

If you’re new here, let me quickly introduce the concept behind this calendar. For 2025, I created a collection that bridges my childhood art with my current skill level. I’ve taken some of my old oil pastel drawings, recreated them digitally, and added a few reflective thoughts, messages, affirmations to tie them back to what they meant to me then - and especially what they mean to me now. Each month is crafted with care, representing both the time of year I thought would be fitting, and a personal story, and this blog will give you a deeper glimpse into those moments :)

Oh, and before we dive in, a quick plug: the Growing in 2025 calendar collection is available now! I’ve got tabletop calendars, wall calendars, mini calendars, calendar cards, wallpapers, bookmarks - there’s something for everyone. You can check them out on my shop!

As a child, oil pastels were my favourite art medium. Most of my earliest drawings were made with them - smudging, layering, and experimenting with colour to create many worlds that felt entirely my own.

At the time, around the age of 10/13, I was attending art classes at a nearby home studio - one of my neighbours was an artist who had converted one room in her home into an art space. While most of our lessons focused on oil pastels, my teacher had begun introducing me to watercolours - a medium that was new and exciting to me. She often let me explore on my own once I’d finished the day’s assigned lesson. The original artwork for January’s calendar was no exception. It featured a canvas and a flower, painted in a style that’s hard to decipher now, but held so much significance for me then.


Her home was filled with easels and blank canvases, waiting to be transformed. I remember sitting there, observing from a distance, too shy to get up and examine them closely. I made mental notes about the “stand” (which I later learned was called an easel) and the canvases propped up on it. I don’t remember exactly what I referenced for this particular drawing - whether it was something she’d made or something I imagined - but I do remember the excitement of creating it. The flowers I drew weren’t any specific type, just something I thought an artist might paint. Because that’s what I wanted to be: an artist. I believed that being an artist meant having easels, endless canvases, and the freedom to paint whatever I wanted.


Looking back, I realize how much that belief shaped me, for better and worse. Seeing those canvases gave me direction - a sense of what I aspired to be. But it also planted the idea in my head that I needed certain tools or circumstances to truly be an artist. I told myself, “I’ll be a good artist when I have an easel. Or when I have many canvases. Or when I can paint all day.” It just became a series of
“when”s: When I have this, then I’ll be that.
Over time, life has taught me the opposite. Being an artist isn’t about the tools you own or the “setups” you envy. It’s about the act of creating - right now. It’s about showing up with whatever you have and making something out of it.
And that is the heart of January’s message. A blank canvas doesn’t wait for the perfect time. It doesn’t need Mondays, new months, or perfect plans. It is always ready, waiting for you to pick up the brush. The lesson here is that you don’t have to wait for "ideal" circumstances. So start now, start every day.

When I look at January’s illustration, I see the eager little girl who wanted to feel like an artist. She didn’t have all the tools, but had the determination to create anyway. And that’s a reminder I’d like to carry with me today, and through the year too: the world is full of blank canvases, just waiting for us to begin.
I hope this glimpse into January’s illustration inspires you to embrace your own “canvas.” Whether it’s art, a goal, or a dream you’ve been holding back on, don’t wait for the perfect time to start. Just start.
Oh, and a very happy 2025 to you! <3

Stay tuned for February’s story, and if you haven’t yet, check out my
2025 calendar collection to bring these illustrations into your home!

- nessart16
- Jun 6, 2024
- 6 min read
Updated: Oct 10, 2024

“We are the instruments more than the author of our work.”
More often than id like to admit, I have this weird feeling stirring up inside my chest that reminds me that the hardest thing for me to do is to just start things. Especially now, working as a freelancer and finding my own way in the world, I feel this almost threatening voice telling me “Yo. You can’t do it.”

This voice keeps me from beginning projects, makes me put them off for months, or even prevents me from thinking about them because they seem so daunting. And these fears might sound trivial to you—cleaning my closet, decluttering my art supplies cupboard, writing this very blog post—but my reaction is always the same: if I start now, I will fail. If I start now, I won’t do a good enough job. If I start now, I will be judged for how poorly I’m doing. If I start now, I won’t be able to commit to it.
I feel this chapter tapped into that very feeling - doubting yourself. Dealing with “perfectionism”. Not trusting the universe enough that you have all the resources you need to begin.

“Learn to accept the possibility that the universe is helping you with
what you are doing.”
This is a sentiment I often struggle with. When things are going so wrong, how do you build this trust in the universe that it is in fact in support of your dream? I find that the best way that helped me is to remind myself constantly that it is trying to get me to my dream. But maybe I need to learn something before I get there. Something unexpected that’s happening in this situation is what will get me to me dream, even though it feels really doubtful that “what I seek is seeking me too”. Even if something is going wrong, it is for me learn something important that will ultimately get me to my dream.

A few weeks before moving into my new studio last year, I felt overwhelmed. My art supplies were spilling out of the cupboard, my paintings took over my living space, and my bed became a drying station. My bedroom, my sanctuary, was turning into a chaotic workspace. I longed for an art studio, spent months dreaming about it, making Pinterest boards, and writing journal entries. But as time passed, the dream seemed to slip further away. I wasn’t earning enough to afford rent, didn’t have enough furniture, and hadn’t even shortlisted a space. It all felt so distant and difficult.
Then I started this chapter and read one line that changed everything:
“Expect the universe to support your dream. It will.”
I asked myself then, what in this situation do I need to learn from? What is happening here that will pave the way to my dream? What is this trying to show me?

I learnt that I longed for a separation between my work and life so my work doesn’t become all consuming. I learnt that my younger self wished for a day where she had a space to work in peacefully. I learnt that perhaps instead of obsessing over how much space I don’t have and how much I am not able to work in my room I need to take a step back and just enjoy it for what it is - a bedroom full of art and a drive for art so strong that my 4 bedroom walls were becoming too small to contain it.
I decided then that I would slow down to enjoy my work a little. Take a step back and let the universe turn its keys. Take peace in owning what I have created so far. It felt counter productive at the time, but I didn’t really create many new things for a while and just soaked up all the beauty I had created up until now, and concentrated on helping my mum with her company. As it turns out, on one of our outings with colleagues we unexpectedly visited a vacant office space. I felt an instant connection and there it was. 3 weeks later, I was preparing for the “office-warming” of my new studio.

Now I know that this isn’t exactly the revelation you’d expect reading the chapter, as it talks more about starting projects, but it definitely was something that resonated with me at the right time.
With this newfound trust in the universe, I read on. The chapter made me realise that voice I mentioned earlier. The one that tells me I can’t do it. There were and still are so many things that I just havent been able to get to because Im afraid of how they will turn out.

Speaking in line with the studio itself, I put off doing a makeover for my cabinet for 6 months because I was afraid of how it will turn out and I was overwhelmed by how I will tackle the project itself. But you have to remind yourself over and over that you really will figure it out. You have to move out of the head and into action, because you’re only causing it more pain by letting it stay a dream. You have to move ahead and start working on it.

This chapter felt heavy because it's something I navigate constantly. I read affirmations, then something goes wrong, and I forget. I have to keep reminding myself that the universe wants me to succeed, and it wants you to succeed too. Trust it and just begin.

Alright, now that we’ve built trust in the universe, it was time to go out into the world and do some of the activities from the chapter. This took me a while to get to as I became occupied with moving into the studio and then shop work for my new year shop update. But I truly feel these have been some of the most mentally rewarding tasks yet.


One of the activities was to take yourself to a sacred space. For me that was without a doubt a library. I decided to head to our state central library, a really old building with shelves and shelves of books and a peaceful atmosphere ive only dreamt of. It felt like I was at this old university library that ive come to to take notes on really important subject. And that important subject, after much searching, turned out to be woodworking.
I spent a good 2 hrs there, disconnected from the internet and deep in my book, sketching and learning and exploring. It truly did feel like a sacred space and it was incredible.

I do not have a library close to where I live, but if I did, I would be there all the time to unwind. But until that dream is a reality, you will find me in the kids public library in my apartment looking at the illustrations of children’s books.


I love me a good smell in the house. I am a big fan of candles, fragrant foods and spices and the smells of nature. I was so excited when I read this task. I had been seeing these “diy mini simmer pots” recipes on Pinterest and somehow was waiting for someone’s permission to make one. And this task was it.
I bought myself a ceramic fondue pot with a cute little handle that makes it look like a saucepan. I combined some of my favourite smelling ingredients to create a wonderfully warming smell in the studio. It smelt like autumn time and l=falling leaves and cinnamon lattes and it was the most wonderfully calming thing.


Oh I loved this activity. The task here was to create a pictorial autobiography using magazine pictures after you freely dismembered them. My inner child was squealing out of happiness. I went out and bought some magazines and picked up a few I had lying around the house. Another thing I picked uo was this rotary blade with a few different attachments. I felt like I was in Disney moveie and I just had this crazy idea while a cool montage plays with exciting background music.

I decided to use the scalloped edged blade to cut out all my pictures for the fun of it. I collected dreams, hopes, pictures that I found beautiful, reminders, words that resonated with me, anything.
I gave this collection of images and dreams a place of honour on my desk at home, I look at it every morning ever since and it is the most uplifting thing.

so vibey, i love it

This chapter turned out to be one of the most transformative ones yet I feel, in its own special way. I hope you enjoyed my thoughts and my journey through this week, and I hope you’ll join me for the next one!
- nessart16
- Mar 30, 2024
- 7 min read
Updated: Oct 10, 2024

“It is as though we want to believe God can create the subatomic structure but is clueless when faced with how to aid or fix our painting, sculpture, writing, film.”
Hello hello. It's been a while since I've been here, but I'm back with an update on my journey through The Artist's Way. Progress has been slower than anticipated, with my weeks stretching out into elongated periods rather than neatly fitting into the 10 day increments as I had planned. Initially, I had high hopes of adhering to a meticulous schedule and smoothly flowing through the weekly tasks and activities. However, reality had other plans. Around the 5th week, I hit a slump. Life's several many distractions began to encroach, gradually eating away at my commitment to the structured timetable I had set for myself. Eventually, I found myself abandoning it altogether, sometime around October of last year - after the activities you’ll see me describe in this blog. I stopped doing as well as documenting.
Nevertheless, I'm making a comeback. This year, I've taken the time to reassess what engaging with The Artist's Way means to me - a checklist of tasks to tick off, or a profound journey of self-discovery and healing.

For me, it assuredly embodies the latter. While my perspective might not align with everyone who has embarked on this journey themselves, maximizing personal growth remains my overriding objective.
Thus, the solemn vow to myself for this year: to complete the book in its entirety. I'll make my way across its pages at a pace that harmonizes with the rhythm of my life, ensuring that I extract the most value from each exercise and insight.
Now, let's rewind to September and dive back into the narrative of my journey.

Week 5 led me on a journey to “recover a sense of possibility” and unearth the hidden, and question-worthy, payoff within stagnation.
This particular chapter resonated with me deeply, provoking keen introspection. Many of its concepts felt eerily familiar, from stuff I've read, various conversations, and observations. Yet, despite hearing these messages before, they often seemed momentary, slipping through the corners of my mind without truly taking root. However, there was something distinct about the presentation of this chapter that finally allowed the message to sink in.
In the opening section of the chapter titled "Limits," I encountered a quote that instantly resonated with me: "Pray to catch the bus, then run as fast as you can." This simple yet profound statement felt like it was written for my struggles. I've always found it challenging to initiate tasks, hindered by a lack of trust in both myself and the universe's ability to safeguard me from potential pitfalls due to my self-limiting beliefs.

I carry with me so many ifs and buts and spiral myself into oblivion thinking of all the ways something could go wrong before I even begin. While this tendency may stem from a desire to prepare adequately for the future, it more frequently serves as a self-imposed barrier, preventing me from reaching for opportunities or believing in my own capabilities. It ends up being the very reason I let myself believe that I am not allowed to catch the bus at all - that I am not capable.
However, this chapter served as a powerful reminder of the boundless opportunities available to us all. It reinforced the notion that abundance is not in limited supply, and that each of us possess equal access to it. This realization sparked a renewed sense of confidence.
“When we cannot seem to find an adequate supply, it is because we are insisting on a particular human source of supply. We must learn to let the flow manifest itself where it will - not where we will it.”

“An artist must have downtime, time to do nothing.”

I felt as I read this chapter, once again, it felt as though its words were penned specifically for me. I was juggling the demands of working on my shop update, looking into getting my studio, packing, figuring out my website changes, figuring out life changes, everything. All at once.
Every task seemed to cascade seamlessly and mercilessly into the next without affording me a moment's rest. But wasn’t actually true. I did have time in the middle, but I was way too damn tired to do anything. Fatigue often gripped me so tightly that I gave up on my morning and night routines, abandoned my journaling practice, and resigned myself to sleepless nights. The overwhelming nature of everything was a weight too heavy to bare at the time. and id be lying if I said I didn’t still feel that way sometimes.
The words within this chapter acted as a balm to the frazzled soul. They served as a gentle reminder that it's not only acceptable but essential to seek moments of rest amidst life's frantic pace. These words were a soothing thing to read amidst all that chaos. Just a reminder that I am not wrong in asking, or even wishing for downtime, I am deserving of it.
“You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm.”


One of the highlights of this chapter was undoubtedly creating the Image file—a truly delightful collection of pictures representing the life that I envision for myself. From my dreams of traveling and having a family to aspirations for my home, business, and art - this exercise served as a sweet little journey into my future aspirations.

What struck me most profoundly was the realization that amidst life's bustling pace, I harbour a deep, deep desire for a more slow and leisurely rhythm. The process of selecting images allowed me to recognize and appreciate this longing for a slower, more intentional way of living.
As I looked through he images that captured my dreams, I felt a renewed sense of positivity and excitement for the future - a future filled not just with accomplishments, but with moments of joy, connection, and serenity. What I truly crave for my future is time.


I believe this was the most powerful exercise yet. I'm much too familiar with the feeling of being stuck. It isn’t something I want to be familiar with in the first place. No one does. But the prompt for this exercise helped me dive deeper into why this was a feeling I was familiar with. Why it, “being blocked”, felt comfortable.
Being blocked for me, as I explored in my morning pages, meant on the one hand that I didn’t grow. But also, I realized that being blocked provides a sense of comfort in familiarity. It shields me from the discomfort of stepping into the unknown and facing potential failure. By avoiding challenges, I can sidestep the possibility of embarrassment and maintain a sense of stability in my life. It also gives me something to complain about, a familiar narrative to fall back on.
This realization struck a chord within me. Although the intensity of its impact may have faded slightly over time, I'm determined to keep it at the forefront of my mind. It serves as a affecting reminder to question whether the perceived safety of staying blocked is truly worth sacrificing my personal growth and potential.


Week 6 unfolded as a journey into the more "practical" aspects of self-discovery.
With each successive chapter, I discovered a finely tuned equilibrium between deep thinking and journaling, thoughtful self-reflection, and go-out-in-the-world activities designed to be a practical and hands on approach to the healing. It was silly, but I was very excited upon making this discovery.
So here’s the sweet little activities I did for this chapter:

I was so excited for this. I love flowers. I always have, even as a kid. The shapes and colours have always intrigued me. When I read this prompt I felt like my inner child was awakened. It was almost surreal, as if I needed permission, or a reason to indulge in this simple pleasure.
But anyways, the book gave me that permission, and pick flowers I did. I went around my society and looked under all verdant shrubs and towering trees for pretty flowers that gracefully abandoned their abodes to rest upon the earth. I cupped my hand and filled it up, one flower after another, until it was too small to hold them all in. An odd juxtaposition, I felt so full. And so happy. I came home and I pressed them between the pages of an art book in an attempt to preserve them and keep this feeling locked in forever.

I was on the baking train during this time. Almost every other week, if not more frequently, I would go on a new baking adventure. It felt like good fortune when the book granted me yet another inferred permission for this pursuit, although deep down, I knew I didn't truly need it. After all, one should never require permission to indulge in activities they love. Nevertheless, it felt like a subtle sign of affirmation.
I decided to bake something ive wanted to for ages: an apple pie. The process was both thrilling and rewarding, and the end result exceeded all expectations. As I savoured each slice, I couldn't help but marvel at the synchronicity of it all. It was a reminder that sometimes, the universe aligns to affirm our passions and desires.

Im sure it’s clear by now that I am a big advocate for things that are old school. Postcards are no exception. Thus, when the activity in this chapter prompted me to send out postcards, I welcomed it with enthusiasm.
Crafting and sending these postcards felt like indulging in an everyday ritual, yet there was a distinct sense of significance to the gesture. I gathered some addresses, some of my favourite stickers, my trusty lucky pen and I began writing. A truly energising exercise. I love the act of writing to express my feelings, a fact evident in the pages of my journals. but anyways, I wrote and wrote, decorated and sealed. And then I was off to the post office to drop off these pieces of love for my friends. I couldn't help but wear a big broad smile.

And that was weeks 5 and 6 of my journey through The Artist's Way. It's worth noting that despite the healing and learning that occurred during these weeks, my slump seemed to intertwine with these activities. It may sound paradoxical, but that's the nature of healing—it can evoke both positive and challenging emotions simultaneously.
While these insights may seem like distant memories now, I hope they still hold significance and resonance for you. I eagerly anticipate sharing more of my experiences with The Artist's Way in the future. Until then, I encourage you to nurture your inner child and make space for growth. And of course, pick pretty flowers :)










