Hanging in the suite on the 12th floor of the Noelle Hotel in downtown Nashville is a piece of my heart.
It’s a painting called Surrender—and it holds the story of one of the most difficult, transformative seasons of my life.
A Painting Born from Loss and New Beginnings
I painted Surrender on the back deck of my home in Joelton, Tennessee, shortly after being laid off from The Tennessean. Around the same time, I had also separated from my ex-husband. My world felt like it was collapsing—my career, my marriage, my sense of who I was and where I was headed—all unraveling at once.
In that emotional storm, I did what I always do when words fail me: I painted.
The Power of Repainting Your Story
What makes Surrender so meaningful is that it wasn’t a blank canvas. It was a recycled piece—an older painting with the same composition but different colors. Painting over it became a ritual of release. I wasn’t destroying the past; I was transforming it. I was choosing to layer new life over old pain.
That process of surrender wasn’t about giving up. It was about letting go. Letting go of control, of expectations, of the illusion that I had to have it all figured out. It was about opening myself up to possibility.
The Lines That Hold Me Together
The lines in the painting are intentional. During seasons of chaos, I draw lines to create structure—something solid to hold onto. They help me calm my nervous system, regulate my breath, and reconnect with my body. Those lines aren’t just visual elements; they are the language of survival.
Painting those lines was an act of coming home to myself.
A Show That Found Me
This piece was part of a solo show at abrasiveMedia’s gallery in Wedgewood-Houston. I hadn’t planned the exhibit; it came to me—another beautiful surprise that mirrored the very meaning of the work. Another surrender.
I said yes. I showed up. I shared my pain. And in return, I received healing, connection, and affirmation.
Art That Finds Its Place
Years later, Surrender now hangs in a stunning suite at the Noelle Hotel in downtown Nashville—a place filled with history, elegance, and light. Seeing it there reminds me that we don’t always know where the path leads. But when we stay open and keep creating, something good always finds us.
Why This Matters
As an abstract artist in Nashville, I believe our creative process is deeply tied to healing and emotional regulation. Art is more than a product—it’s a practice. A way to navigate trauma, uncertainty, and change. If you’ve ever felt like your life was falling apart, I hope Surrender reminds you: your story isn’t over. You can always begin again.
Keep Creating, Keep Trusting
There’s something sacred about the act of making—especially when life feels unsteady. Creativity doesn’t just fill the silence, it helps us listen more closely. It offers a mirror to what’s inside and gives us the courage to face it with compassion.
What I’ve learned through Surrender—and so many other pieces since—is this: you don’t have to wait until the storm passes to begin again. You can start right in the middle of it. You can let your messy, beautiful, uncertain process be the masterpiece.
Whether you’re holding a brush, a journal, a guitar, or just your breath—don’t underestimate what’s possible when you choose to show up and create.
There’s power in surrender, not weakness. It’s not about giving up—it’s about giving in to the flow of transformation.
Let your pain move. Let your story evolve.
And most of all—keep going.
The world needs what only you can create.
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