January Feeling of the Month / Softness
January 30, 2025
This series was inspired by my friend and fellow artist, Anna Núñez, whose Color the Month series so beautifully captures her love of color.
I started an art challenge this month in which I’m making a series of small paintings inspired by daily prompts. Umbrella. Bathtub. Sunglasses.
Working alongside mostly illustrators who are interpreting these prompts quite literally, I have become acutely aware of just how strange and free-spirited us abstract artists are.
How does an abstract expressionist like me take a word like “umbrella” and make a piece of art that feels true and authentic? By making loose connections and interpretations.
Umbrellas, for instance, make me think of rain and protection from storms, so on that day, I made a cool-toned painting with lots of wet, free-flowing acrylics—calm, spacious, and blue in the middle (the protection) and deep, green, and windy at the edges (the storm outside).
For “bathtub,” I channeled the calming scent of lavender and the tingly feeling of a hot bath—creating a soft abstract full of balmy pastels.
For “sunglasses,” my mind went to the vibrant, retro, fun kind—so I listened to Maren Morris’s 80s Mercedes while I mixed vibrant magentas, baby pinks, and retro greens.
So much of art (especially the expressionist, feeling-based kind) is about interpreting abstract ideas through the senses. Sight. Smell. Feel. Sound.
So to demystify this process—and to share more about the art I’m making and the ideas that inspire it—I’m starting my own monthly series about feelings. And up first, the feeling of January, is softness.
“Softness” is word that came to me during my recent time in Nepal. Visually, I was struck by the soft, atmospheric haze that I saw around me. (Which, to be frank, was likely caused by air pollution, but it was striking and other-worldly nonetheless.)
I was also struck by the relaxed demeanor of the locals. The environment around us was often chaotic—between blaring horns and crammed buses and rocky, pitted roads—yet the people we met seemed so calm and unbothered. Like they could just let whatever chaos was happening around us roll off their backs with the lightest of ease. Their softness stood in stark contrast to the high-strung, controlling, ever-fearful grip I’m accustomed to encountering at home.
I want that, I remember thinking. Softness.
A roadside in Nepal
When I think of softness, I think of:
Calm
Being present
Femininity—the warm, grounded kind
Taking life slow, without any need to rush
Savoring the small moments
Sunshine
Holding on loosely
Being in flow
Trusting surrender
A calm knowing + a grounded detachment to outcomes
Warm bubble baths
Sleeping kittens
Babies’ skin
Warm, loving touch
Feeling safe and held
The best example, I think, is a moment when I noticed my cat sitting contently in our sunroom with the sun shining on his face. He was facing the window with his eyes closed, letting the sun warm his golden fur. I thought—man , he’s got life figured out.
No rush. No need to do anything or be anywhere. No anxious worrying. Just being in the moment, being soft, and allowing life to envelope him.
Softening, 48×48 inches, inquire to collect
In the studio, I found myself exploring “softness” with paintings full of warm, baby pinks and loose, flowing brushstrokes. I also painted with more white space than usual to capture openness and calm.
January Feeling of the Month / Softness
Looks like: See my Pinterest board
Sounds like: Deep Focus
Smells like: Freshly washed sheets
Feels like: Sunshine on your skin, soft grass, my cat’s fur