Oh boy!! My Painting With Fire Lesson came out today!

It’s really a mini-lesson, but the whole point of the ancient Japanese Sumi-e technique is its simplicity.

It’s a mystery to me why I never thought to combine Sumi-e painting with encaustic layering before because they are natural partners.

Here is the class description:

“Experience the harmony of two ancient artistic traditions in this hands-on mini-workshop for Painting with Fire, blending the fluid elegance of Sumi-e painting with the luminous depth of encaustic wax. In the first phase, participants will learn the meditative brush techniques of Sumi-e, painting expressive bamboo and leaves with India ink on paper. Then, in the second phase, we will transform our paintings with encaustic medium, adding layers of translucent wax, incised details, walnut ink washes, delicate patches of gold leaf, and a final red “chop” for a signature touch. This fusion of ink and wax creates an ethereal, textural effect that enhances both the spontaneity of brushwork and the richness of layered surfaces. No prior experience in Sumi-e or encaustic is necessary—just a spirit of exploration!”

One of the things I like about Sumi-e painting is the meditative approach that helps me slow down and quiet my overactive brain as I practice the simple bamboo and leaf strokes like a visual chant. The practice sheets themselves become a record of time, plus you can use them later in collages!

Once you are ready, the brushstrokes combine to form a complete “thought” about the stillness of the natural world.

And as I have just discovered, Sumi-e painting and encaustic are natural partners in expression, each rooted in ancient traditions that honor simplicity, patience, and the beauty of imperfection.

This PWF lesson was a delight to create. It comes in Week Six of the Painting With Fire year of encaustic exploration, and you can still join and have lifetime access to all the lessons created by many amazing encaustic teachers. I have another lesson coming up in November called “Synthography and Wax.”

HOWEVER – even if you are not one bit interested in encaustic, you can completely immerse yourself in the delightful practice of Sumi-e painting. I have a free lesson on Teachable called Sumi-e Painting: Simplicity and Serenity.

I encourage you to try it. As I said, it’s free. The slow, deliberate movements of the brush, the attention to empty space, and the surrender to imperfection invite a sense of calm and clarity. Sumi-e teaches us to be present, to let go of excess, and to trust that a single stroke can hold deep meaning. For artists feeling overwhelmed or disconnected, it offers a quiet refuge.

I’ll leave you with this from the Sumi-e painting site:

The Way of the Brush

Let’s see for example what happens when we want to paint bamboo with the sumi-e method: you sit down (but can also stand) with your back straight, you put a sheet of paper in front of you and concentrate on it, breathing calmly and naturally. You let all other thoughts fade until only a white sheet of paper remains in your mind. Next, you let the image to be painted appear to your mind. In order to paint the bamboo, you must feel its “consistency”, see its trunk, its branches, feel its light leaves stirred by a breeze or wind or wet, heavy with rain.

Your spirit is full of this and more; it becomes the bamboo, it is indescribable.

Somewhere between planning for the Ireland workshop , editing my vessel-building video, preparing for a fall neo-santos class in Taos, and working toward a major four-person exhibition there in February 2026, I caught myself staring at the wall, paralyzed—not with lack of inspiration, but with too much of it.

It’s all good. But. Too many irons in the fire. Too many deadlines, ideas, and “just one more thing” lists. And then I remembered Anne Lamott’s wise, warm advice from Bird by Bird. It’s my favorite ever book on writing and creativity.

Her brother, overwhelmed by a massive school report on birds, sat frozen at the kitchen table. Their father told him, “Just take it bird by bird, buddy. Bird by bird.”

That phrase has become a lifeline.

When your artistic life feels like a wildfire of overlapping projects, or a loud chorus of too many ideas that you really want to try, the answer isn’t to douse the flame—it’s to focus on one small, manageable ember at a time.

One vessel. One section of the video. One set of supplies to pack. One mess at a time.

Outside Mess – the Rust Pile

Anne Lamott reminds us that it’s okay to start messy. That a “shitty first draft” is still a beginning. For artists, that might look like a rough sketch, an experimental glaze, or 20 minutes in the studio moving things around until something clicks.

Inside Mess

We may have heard this before, but it is eternally relevant to all of us—artists, writers, makers, dreamers—anyone facing a mountain of creative intention and wondering where to begin.

So today, I’m reminding myself to take it bird by bird. Not exhibition by exhibition or continent by continent. Just one clay figure. One image. One class prep file. And trust that the path will form under my feet, as it always does, step by tiny step.

Lately, I’ve been using the Merlin app to identify the birds I hear outside on my morning walks. It listens, patiently, and tells me, “That’s a Carolina wren… now a mockingbird.” One bird at a time. That feels like the most gentle and poetic kind of reminder.

Carolina Wren – photo from CornellLab

This morning, the first bird I heard was a Carolina wren. Bright, insistent, full of song. It felt like a sign.

Maybe art is the same. You don’t need to name the whole chorus. Just listen for the one song calling you right now. One bird.

BUT WHICH BIRD COMES FIRST??

Once we accept we can’t do it all at once, the question becomes: which bird do I start with?

Here are a few ways I’m learning to decide:

The Loudest Bird
The one with a deadline or a time-sensitive need. Sometimes you have to answer the squawking first—travel bookings, material orders, or a class outline.(For me, this is getting my Ireland ducks in a row – speaking of birds.)

The Most Fragile Bird
This might be a quiet idea, a piece of inner work, or a soulful art project that could be lost if neglected. Tend to what feels precious and easily forgotten. (This is the bird I’m paying attention to this morning).

The Bird That Frees the Others
It could be a small task that clears mental clutter—like organizing files or answering that email you’ve been avoiding. Finishing this can unlock energy for everything else.

The Bird That Sings to You
If you’re feeling burned out, start with the thing that sparks joy. Let one moment of delight carry you into motion.

In the end, the “right” bird is the one you notice—and respond to—with care.

I recommend both the book, Bird by Bird, and the Merlin app (which is free). Take a deep breath – quiet your thoughts, and listen. There’s a bird out there calling your name. Just begin.♥