Working in Two Worlds
Most days lately, my studio is filled with the smells of toasty maple wood and oil paint, and with the sound of acorns falling on the roof and leaves rustling outside…
…And also that of Mia’s perpetually happy tail knocking things over and Pierre scurrying after the latest seasonal insect.
Two collections are taking shape in the studio right now, their working titles being Remembering Eden and Consider the Wonder. The latter is something I’ve dreamed of creating for a long time: paint on metal, wood burned by a hot iron, textures that feel alive under your hands. The former lives on canvas, yet pushing me to stretch and grow in ways I didn’t expect. Both, in their own slow and steady ways, are teaching me what it means to create from stillness rather than speed.
There’s an emotional undercurrent that ties both series together — a kind of call to remember what’s been lost and rediscover what’s sacred. Remembering Eden looks back to that perfect harmony in the Garden, where humanity and nature flourished together in relationship with their Creator, while Consider the Wonder leans into curiosity and exploration — the awe of discovering the world God made. Together, they speak of renewal and remembrance. Wonder for the sake of restoration, rather than conquering to the end of “usefulness” … Exploration purely for the sake of renewal and good old-fashioned curiosity.
Working in Two Worlds
I’ve been working on both series side by side, planning to show them together in a solo exhibition next year. Consider the Wonder is my mixed media sawblade pyrography project, and Remembering Eden is my mixed media canvas series.
Each medium has its own rhythm. The sawblade pieces are tactile and slow —when I’m standing over a piece of wood with a burning pen in hand, I can’t rush. The longer I leave the heat on the surface, the darker it burns. It’s a quiet reminder that depth takes time.
Canvas, on the other hand, invites experimentation of a different breed. Remembering Eden is still in that exploratory phase — I’m playing with color palettes, light, and texture. Modeling paste and glazing medium have become my new best friends, adding layers that make the work feel alive. These pieces are stretching my self-taught muscles and teaching me new techniques along the way.
I’ve been playing with symbols — rings, “worlds within worlds,” and scenes of humanity living creatively and harmoniously with creation: architecture that respects the landscape, sailors navigating open water with nothing but faith and instinct, explorers moving between the sea’s surface and depths in the same breath. Each painting is a small act of reflection, of trying to imitate the Creator’s heart through the things He’s made.
The Creation Process
My art is inseparable from life itself. I can’t help but bring what I’m learning, seeing, and experiencing into the studio. Sometimes that means I start a sketch before I fully know where it’s headed — letting the process unfold, staying flexible, and paying attention to what the composition seems to ask for rather than what I planned.
For the Consider the Wonder pieces, the process starts with sanding, priming, and undercoating the blade. Sometimes I start with the metal; other times, I work on the wooden base and blade together. Once the blade’s painting feels complete, I sketch out its continuation onto the wood — and that’s where the burning begins.
Painting on metal is a whole different beast than working on canvas — it takes a different kind of mindset and patience. I’ll just say that much for now. But the burning process? I especially love it. Especially when I’m working with a fragrant wood like maple — the pilot piece smelled like sweet maple syrup with a smokey note. It’s one of those meditative parts of the process where I can lose track of time for hours.
Great, now I’m hungry for pancakes…
The beloved pilot piece…gotta be honest, it’s going to be hard to top this one. Think I can do it?
After the burning and painting are done, I attach the blade to the wood and varnish it — experimenting with different finishes to see what best preserves the deep burns and that glowing warmth of the grain. Each piece can take weeks to complete from start to finish.
Remembering Eden, meanwhile, is where I step outside my comfort zone. I’m using multiple studies and small-scale experiments to test color and light before moving to larger canvases — sometimes even turning to watercolor studies just to get a better sense of flow. And honestly, these experiments often end up teaching me more than I shape them.
The most recent small canvas experiment in Remembering Eden - what should I call it?
Moving Forward…
It feels like I have plenty of time before next summer’s show, but in reality, the days move fast — especially when a single piece can take weeks. Time feels like one of the most precious materials in my studio.
I’m grateful for every moment spent refining these collections, and I can’t wait to share how they continue to grow. If you’d like to follow the development of Remembering Eden and Consider the Wonder more closely, I share weekly updates in my studio newsletter — it’s where I talk about process, inspiration, and sometimes even the messy middle of creativity.
And if you’d like to help me devote even more time to bringing these works to life, consider supporting the studio on Patreon (@SaltInMyPaintWater). Every bit of support helps keep this vision moving forward. I am so thankful for my Patreon community – y’all have been a game-changer and the privilege of sending you letters in the mail is the highlight of my month!
I can’t wait to share how this story continues to unfold.
With gratitude & expectation,
Ruth
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