The Sacred Joy of Play
The Sacred Joy of Play
Lately, I’ve been thinking about the need for play –– not just as a break from work, but as a deeply important part of the creative process. As I’ve been finalizing my seasonal pattern collections, I realized how long it’s been since I simply painted, just for the joy of it.
I do draw and paint daily –– small bird studies for practice, sketchbook journaling to document life –– but even these have started to feel more like tasks than creative outlets. One is about observation and discipline; the other is shaped by whatever I’ve seen that day. They’re both valuable, but lately, they haven’t felt free.
It’s been a while since I just…played with paint.
No tutorials.
No rules.
No goal but joy.
Why Play Matters
I think this kind of unstructured exploration is vital –– not just for finding new techniques, but for reconnecting with yourself as an artist.
There’s so much pressure (especially when building a creative business) to always be gathering knowledge, improving, practicing, perfecting. And yes, learning is important; studying from skilled artists is wonderful. But it’s not where your voice comes from.
Your voice comes from the quiet, curious moments when you let go of expectation and follow what feels alive.
How I Love to Play
When I feel stuck, I begin by just making marks.
Loose brush strokes. Wavy lines. Gentle leaves.
It’s a way to connect my mind to my hand, to warm up without pressure.
I love to fill a whole page with one subject, usually leaves. It becomes a meditation: repetition, variation, rhythm. Sometimes I'll try different media, or paint the same subject with slightly different gestures just to see where it leads.
Another favourite: swatching colour stories.
Swatch a bouquet. Swatch the greens of sunlight through trees. Swatch a rainy day. There is no need to make anything look “good” –– just record a moment, a feeling, in colour. It sharpens your observation and trains you to see nuance.
And then there’s my favourite kind of play: the wet-on-wet chaos of water and pigment. Letting paint bloom and bleed on water-soaked paper is always exciting, unpredictable, and you really learn how to submit to the will of the pigment and work with the paint, not against it.
The Only Wasted Supplies Are Unused Ones
That phrase has stuck with me, and freed me.
If you’re on a budget, or saving the “nice” paints for the “right” piece, it can feel hard to let go. But I’ve found that some of my most beloved pieces began as warmups or sketches. To support that freedom, I keep less expensive watercolour paper on hand just for play.
The more you create without pressure, the more your style reveals itself –– not through strategy, but through sincerity.
Like Little Children
Jesus said to be like little children. I believe this invitation applies to all aspects of our lives, including our creativity. Children play. They are humble enough to try, fail, and learn. They explore without shame, make mistakes without fear, and start again with joy. I want to show up to the page like that –– not overwhelmed, not comparing, but full of wonder.
That’s my constant goal:
To face the page with wonder, not pressure.
To let myself explore.
To play, and in playing find joy, purpose.
The Otter On My Mind
Last week, I stopped designing patterns and picked up my paints. I reached for Cascade Green by Daniel Smith –– one of those colours that just makes you feel something. I’d been holding a vision in my mind for a long time: an otter floating in a kelp forest.
So I painted it.
And it reminded me why I love to create. It felt so freeing to paint without expectation, just following what delighted me.
Now I am painting a seal and dreaming of more water mammals. And I’m remembering that play leads to ideas, inspiration, and deeper connection –– to the world, to God, to ourselves.
We’re not just creating art.
We’re becoming who we were called to be.
One playful brushstroke at a time.
From Play to Purpose: A New Offering
As I've been reconnecting with play, I’ve felt called to create more freely –– not just through painting and design, but through living artfully. In this same spirit of play, exploration, artful living, and creating with intention, I’ve started something new that I’m incredibly excited (and a little tender) about –– a seasonal zine.
This little publication will include glimpses into my creative life beyond painting –– like photography, writing, baking, gardening, cooking –– all woven together with the hope of inspiring stillness, reflection, play, and a deeper connection to creation, purpose, joy, and God. I’m creating it freely and joyfully, as a way to share what’s stirring in my heart and invite others into that joy, discovery, and beauty alongside me.
For now, it will be available as a free quarterly download. I hope it inspires you to try new things, to create new art, to pause, breathe, and remember the goodness of the world and the goodness of God.
If you’re craving more beauty, reflection, and small sacred moments, I’d love to stay connected. You can join my email list to receive updates, gentle letters from me, and free seasonal offerings like my zine. I’d be honoured to share this journey of art, faith, and creativity with you.