It’s been quite a while since I last wrote or shared anything. Life has a way of keeping us busy, and sometimes the best choice is to take a step back, breathe, and reconnect with the world around us. Occasionally, I find myself in phases where I don’t want to be active online because I feel the need to go inward—I’m a true hermit at heart. However, Substack has always felt like a welcoming space for me, unlike many other social platforms that I find loud, addictive, and unsupportive of creators. Perhaps it’s because I work in the content industry, and my ability to consume content has reached an all-time high, and I am reclaiming my time back!

To get back into the groove of being creative and sharing my experiences, art, and process, I decided to start with a wonderful exercise to help me get out of my head and onto the paper quickly.

Of course, fun art experiments are even better when I bring along to do them together!

Our mission was simple: to experiment with various art mediums and see what playful expressions emerged from our collaboration. To make the most of this exercise, we divided a large sheet of watercolor paper into 36 individual squares. Each square was an opportunity for free expression and creativity, where we could use any materials at our disposal. For my part, I decided to explore a range of mediums, including vibrant watercolors, dynamic ink, colorful pencils, and unconventional tools like plastic wrap, a hair comb, and tape. I also incorporated ideas and inspiration from “The Book of Colour Concepts” by Alexandra Loske, which guided some of my choices.

While I could detail the creation process for each square and share my thoughts behind every piece, I want to emphasize that this exercise isn’t about perfection or perfectionism. The true goal is simply to allow ourselves the freedom to sit down, embrace the materials we have available at home, play, and enjoy the artistic journey. Ultimately, that’s the best way to break free from overthinking and just create.

I also want to take a moment to express my admiration for Laura. Her passion for exploration, dedication to consistent practice, and playful approach to art are truly inspiring. It’s amusing how she arrives at my classes bursting with enthusiasm to learn, yet I find that I gain so much insight and knowledge from her as well. I’m incredibly grateful for her friendship and we make an excellent team as art enthusiasts!

I’m thrilled to be back, embracing a pace that allows for both creativity and reflection.

With love,

Alexandra

There’s a way to move through the world that feels meditative. Eyes open, feet moving, life unfolding around you.

I’ve done this for years and keep returning because it gives back so much.

I call it walking as an artist.

Not walking to get somewhere.
Not walking to check something off a list.
But walking to see.

The practice is simple.

We head outside with a sketchbook and or a journal,
and you let the world unfold before you.

You sit in a café with your coffee and watch people pass by. Painting with dark coffee is a real treat!
You notice how someone holds their shoulders when they’re tired.
The way two people lean into each other when they’re laughing.
The rhythm of a street, the pauses, the rush, the quiet moments in between.

Sometimes you draw.
Sometimes you write.
Sometimes you just observe.

And somehow… that’s enough.

Active meditation

For me, this has become a form of active meditation.

Instead of closing my eyes to quiet my mind, I open them and focus on what’s right in front of me.

It calms my nervous system in a way that feels natural.
Gentle. Easy.

Because I’m not forcing stillness.
I’m entering it through observation.

And the more I practice this, the more I notice:

• I’m less rushed

• More present

• More curious

• More connected to people around me

Even strangers start to feel familiar when you really look at them.

Art walking?! Meditation?! What???

This practice has changed the way I draw and paint.

Not because I’m trying to improve, but because I’m paying attention.

My observation has sharpened.
My sense of proportion, gesture, and movement has become more intuitive.
I notice details I used to miss completely.

But more than that, my empathy has deepened.

When you sit and observe people long enough, you stop seeing “subjects.”
and start feeling stories.

And that changes everything in how you create.

Why Seattle feels like the perfect place for this

I’m about to spend a month in Seattle, and I can already feel how alive this practice will be there.

Cities like Seattle are full of contrast.

You can sit on a busy street, surrounded by motion, sound, and change.
people rushing, talking, living their lives in real time.

Or,

You can step into a museum, where everything slows down.
Where observation becomes quieter, more internal.
Where time stretches a little.

And both are part of the same practice.

One teaches you how to capture energy.
The other teaches you stillness.

Both shape you as an artist.

The beauty of choosing your rhythm

That’s what I love most about this way of working.

We get to choose our own rhythm.

If we want chaos and movement, we sit in it, draw it, and feel it.
If we want calm, we find a quiet spot and let our breath slow down.

You’re not escaping life.
You’re learning how to move with it.

Join me in Seattle

If you’re in Seattle and this way of experiencing the city resonates with you…

I’m opening a limited number of 3-hour guided “city exploration as an artist” sessions.

Available Dates: April 4th-May 8th

This is not a traditional class.
It’s a shared experience.

We will:

• walk through the city with intention

• sit and sketch in cafés and or on the street

• observe people, movement, and small details

• Seattle Art Museum

• have real conversations about art, life, and creativity

No experience needed.
No pressure to “be good.”
Just a willingness to slow down, notice, and explore.

Reserve your spot

If you’re interested in joining, click this link to learn more or reserve your spot. Alternatively, send me a message directly. I’m happy to chat and see if it’s a good fit 💌

Remember, spots are limited to ensure these sessions remain personal—reserve yours early to participate.

This practice can transform not only how you see yourself as an artist, but also how you move through the world.

I’d love to share this experience with you.

With love,

Alexandra

On this live, I discussed a little of everything—my studio clean-out art sale (with original pieces under $150), some honest life updates, and a shift in how I’m approaching my 1:1 art lessons moving forward on Substack. It’s a small glimpse into what’s been happening behind the scenes and where things are headed next.

AND

If you’ve been wanting to learn how to draw, paint, or just start thinking more like an artist, I’d love to have you closer in this space.

Regarding the art sale, if there's an artwork you really want, please contact me privately to discuss the next steps.

Art Sale Link

Thank you all for watching and supporting <3

With love,

Alexandra

Get more from Alexandra Manea in the Substack app

Available for iOS and Android

Get the app

Art Sale for Your Viewing:
Full Art Sale

Art Sale for Your Viewing:
Full Art Sale

Over time, my studio has filled up (shocker!).

Not just with finished paintings, but with sketches, studies, small experiments, and pieces that were part of figuring something out.

Some of them were warm-ups.
Some were me testing color.
Some were just moments where I sat down and made something without overthinking it.

And they’ve all been sitting here—stacked, tucked away, moved from one pile to another. They don’t deserve that. They need to be loved and appreciated.

And there are many more pieces that I couldn’t fit into this article, so I’ve gathered everything here:
Full Art Sale

If something speaks to you, feel free to message me privately the number or numbers of each piece.

The sale will run from March 26th to April 30th—so if you’re looking to bring more life into your home, or gift someone something original without breaking the bank, this is for you.

I view all of these as my creations, my cherished babies. Parting with them is challenging because of the deep affection I have for each of them. However, I firmly believe in the importance of practicing the art of letting go at this stage. I don’t want these pieces to remain hidden away; I want them to find a home where they will be appreciated and admired every day. Therefore, I am choosing to release them.

With love,

Alexandra

Yesterday was my first oil painting session with , and instead of jumping into paint, we slowed everything down.

Way down.

We didn’t even touch color on the canvas yet.

AND I loved that.

We started with one of those classic, foundational tools: the grid.

We took a reference image, divided it into even sections, and transferred the same grid onto the canvas. One segment at a time, the drawing begins to reveal itself.

It becomes less about “can I draw this?”
and more about “what do I actually see in this reference photo?”

Where does the shoulder fall?
How much space is above the head?
What angle is that arm really at?

The grid forces you to slow down and observe.

And in a way, it quiets the noise.

From there, we focused on mapping the painting onto the canvas.

No shading. No details. Just structure at first.

Simple lines. Placement. Proportion.

It’s the kind of step that can feel almost too basic… but it’s everything.

Because if the structure is off, everything that comes after that will feel off.

If this is your first time using this method, it can be daunting and feel too technical, but we can still be playful even as we try to get proportions right. In the video below, I explain how to simplify everything to its basic form before adding anything else.

Even though we didn’t start painting, we began to open the conversation about color.

The painting we’re studying was created by Cuno Amiet, whose work is full of these vibrant, broken color marks that sit next to each other rather than blend.

And before committing to paint, we’ll explore it in the sketchbook first—using colored pencils to test combinations, to play, to understand how colors interact.

Almost like rehearsing before stepping on stage.

There’s something really powerful about not rushing.

About staying in the “unfinished” stage longer than feels comfortable.

Today wasn’t about making something visually beautiful…

It was about:
learning to see
learning to measure
learning to map out shape and color

And building a foundation that will actually support the painting later.

I think sometimes we all just want to get to the exciting part of putting paint down.

But the truth is…

The magic is built on these quiet steps.

And today felt like a really beautiful return to that.

This is just the beginning of Laura’s oil painting journey, and I’m really excited to share how it unfolds.

I am also learning to better express my knowledge of oil painting, so it's very interesting to be in this teaching position rather than just being an artist. Just because I have been doing it doesn’t mean I have the teaching part perfected, so I want to thank Laura for being on this journey with me.

If you want to follow along, learn alongside us, or even try this process yourself—stay tuned.

Also, if you’re new to my page, please consider subscribing for more lessons like this <3

With love,

Alexandra

For those of you who have followed me for a while, you probably know me as the bubbly one. The optimistic one. The girl who finds light, color, and meaning in almost everything.

And that is true. That joy is real. It lives in me.

But I am not only that.

I am also a woman who feels deeply. A woman who worries. A woman who sometimes wakes up with a heaviness in her chest and no clear roadmap for how to carry it.

Over the past week and a half, I’ve experienced a range of emotions that definitely don’t belong to the “happy club.”

When health scares, financial instability, parenthood, and the general “the whole planet seems to be on fire” atmosphere all collide at once… something shifts. The ground feels less stable. The mind spins faster. The heart grows heavier.

And yes — I have felt sad.

Not dramatically. Not theatrically. Just quietly, persistently sad.

And I am not ashamed of that.

In fact, I believe it’s important to be seen in this state too. If I only show up when I’m glowing, I’m not really showing up fully.

So when life hands me lemons, I don’t just make lemonade — I make art.

Because if I stop creating during hard moments, I disconnect from my source. Creation isn’t just something I do when I’m inspired. It’s the thread that keeps me connected to myself. It is my life force.

This week, my oracle deck kept whispering to me. One card in particular surfaced again and again: “A Good Cry.”

And I knew — I didn’t need to push through.
I didn’t need to fix.
I didn’t need to power my way forward.

I needed to release.

When we feel the urge to cry, one of the most healing things we can do is allow it. Not suppress it. Not distract ourselves from it. Not scroll it away.

Allow it.

Here’s the practice I returned to:

First, sit quietly for 5–10 minutes. Close your eyes. Tune into your body. Where is the sadness living? In your throat? Your chest? Your stomach?

Then, put on a song — the kind that cracks you open. The kind that knows exactly where to press.

And let yourself respond.

If you need to sit still, sit.
If you need to sob, sob.
If you need to sway or dance or collapse onto the floor dramatically — do that.

There is no correct choreography for grief.

After the wave passes — and it always does — take a journal and write. Or don’t. Just notice.

Do you feel a little lighter?
A little more grounded?
Has one of those thousand open browser tabs in your nervous system finally closed?

That’s the mission.

Not to eliminate sadness.
But to metabolize it.

Crying with intention is not weakness.
It’s emotional hygiene.

And sometimes, the most productive thing we can do in a chaotic world is put on a damn good song and let our hearts break open for a few minutes.

The card “A Good Cry” from my oracle deck was born from this knowing — that release is sacred. That tears are cleansing. That vulnerability is strength.

If you’d like to explore the cards, I’ve linked them below 🤍

https://channelcreativity.art/shop/p/channel-creativity-oracle-deck

And if my work resonates with you — if these reflections feel like companionship in your own process — consider subscribing. Your support allows me to keep creating, writing, and sharing from this honest place.

Subscribe now

P.S. Here is the song that got me to open up 🤍

With love,
Alexandra

Every morning, I give myself just 15 to 30 minutes for a quick portrait sketch. It’s not about creating a masterpiece; it’s about showing up, practicing, and setting achievable goals. In my new 20-minute tutorial, I walk you through how I approach these daily sketches—quickly establishing the basics, so you can move on with your day feeling accomplished. By setting small, consistent targets, you’ll not only refine your skills but also build confidence.

If you’re inspired to have a meaningful piece of art in your life or gift one to someone special, head over to my website! My art shop offers small portrait commissions—perfect keepsakes for you or a loved one. You’ll find all the details there!

Subscribe now

If you’d like a small portrait of yourself or someone you love, I’ve opened up mini portrait commissions in my art store. They’re only $30, meant to be a little piece of affordable art for everyone. You can find all the details on my website.

My Art Store

Thank you 🥹❤️

-Alexandra

I’m officially halfway through my 100 Mini Collage Challenge — 50 collages completed, pages filled, and lessons layered quietly between cuts, glue, and intuition.

I felt called to share this midway point because seeing these collages together, all in one place, feels powerful. They hold a kind of collective energy — imperfect, experimental, alive. On their own, some feel louder than others. Together, they tell a much bigger story.

This challenge has taught me more than I expected.

I’ve learned new ways of applying collage techniques — layering, contrast, restraint, boldness — approaches I know I’ll carry into future work. But more importantly, I’ve learned something about process.

Not every collage turned out the way I imagined. Some of them I don’t particularly like — and that’s okay. One of the biggest lessons in this practice has been learning to place the elements down and move on, without getting stuck in frustration or disappointment. To let a piece be what it is, rather than what I wanted it to become.

This repetition has softened my expectations. It has made me more free, more playful, and more willing to experiment without attachment. Instead of overworking or overthinking, I’ve learned to trust momentum — to show up, create, and keep going.

And that feels like a quiet victory.

As I look ahead to the next 50 mini collages in this series, I feel excited rather than pressured. Curious rather than attached. This challenge is no longer about perfection — it’s about presence, practice, and letting creativity move through me without resistance.

Here’s to the middle.

Here’s to learning as we go.

And here’s to continuing — one small collage at a time.

If you’re enjoying following this process and want to continue walking alongside my creative journey, I’d love for you to consider subscribing. Your support makes space for me to keep showing up, experimenting, and sharing honestly — the wins, the mess, and everything in between.

Thank you for being here and for supporting this work as it unfolds 🤍

Subscribe now

*If you’re a fellow collage lover or working through a creative challenge of your own, I’d love to hear about it in the comments.

With love,

Alexandra

This December, Lisa and I spent two hours inside a world of pure creativity — abstract art, watercolors, collage, and the stories that live under our skin. We wanted to explore what joy looks like for each of us during the holidays, and how those feelings shift once you put them on paper with your own hands.

Join Us

If you want to follow along and make art with us, you can watch the full two-hour class. Move at your own pace. Grab whatever supplies you have at home. Let the lesson take you somewhere softer, calmer, and a little more playful.

Lisa’s Reflection: The Art of Becoming Playful Again

A few days after my 49th birthday, I joined Alex’s art class. I’ve always loved art, but I’d convinced myself I never had the time. Creativity had become something “big” — a project, a production, a someday.

But I still wanted to feel creative again. Not perfect or impressive. Just alive. I wanted to reconnect with the girl in me who used to make things without permission or pressure.

The moment I picked up the brush, all my old stories showed up too.
You don’t have time for this.
This looks terrible.
Why are you even trying?
My mind was stuck in straight lines and outcomes instead of play.

But the more I painted, the quieter that voice became. A fingerprint here. A wild stroke there. Shapes, textures, colours — they loosened something in me. I stopped judging every mark. I felt lighter. Softer. Curious again. My thinking shifted from control to exploration.

I left the class feeling wide open. Now I’m making a tiny piece of art every day — low stakes, high joy. I’m collecting scraps around the house for collages. And the funniest part? I don’t even like the piece I made… but my husband hung it in his office because he loves it.

I’m becoming playful again. I’m touching life with both hands.
And my joy feels close enough to reach.

Alexandra’s Reflection: Don’t Overthink the Creative Act

During our two-hour session, I experienced a deep sense of peace and relaxation as I guided Lisa through my creative process. It was a joy to share how I begin by gathering inspiration—whether it’s searching for keywords on Pinterest, stepping outside to find sparks of creativity, or bringing ideas back to my studio to play. In this lesson, focused on the theme of joy, I demonstrated how I experiment with different techniques: pressing a paintbrush to create unique shapes, using collage to tell quick visual stories, and adding splashes of watercolor for a touch of fluidity.

Not every piece turned out perfectly, but that wasn’t the goal. The aim was to let go of reservations, enjoy the process, and create without the pressure to be perfect. Guiding Lisa through these techniques was a delight, and witnessing her enthusiasm for bringing her writing to life visually was truly inspiring. I’m excited to continue this creative journey together and see where it leads us.

Thank you for taking the time to read about our creative journey and for joining us in this exploration of joy through art and storytelling. We hope you enjoyed this glimpse into our process and that it inspires you to explore your own creativity. We look forward to sharing more collaborative lessons like this in the future, and we’re grateful to have you with us on this creative adventure.

With love,

Lisa & Alex

When preparing for a large painting series—such as my “Great Sunbath” series—there is a unique joy in the behind-the-scenes process. It’s not solely about the final piece on the canvas; it’s about all the little steps that lead up to it.

For me, that process starts with seeking inspiration—browsing through books at the library, collecting reference images, and then turning to my sketchbook. This sketchbook becomes my best friend: a place to jot down ideas, sketch compositions, and even create tiny thumbnails to visualize how the final paintings might look.

What’s exciting is that all these sketches and notes are part of the artistic journey itself. They are not just preparatory work; they can also be beautiful pieces to share or include in an art show alongside your final works.

If you’re ready to start your own series, here are some simple steps to get you going:

1. Define Your Theme: Determine what you want to convey and set a clear theme.

2. Gather References: Collect reference photos that align with your vision.

3. Start Sketching: Transform those references into initial sketches in your sketchbook.

4. Research Other Artists: Look at similar artists for inspiration and to help refine your style.

5. Create Thumbnails: Make small thumbnail paintings to experiment with composition before moving on to larger works.

6. Accountability Partner: Find an art friend to explore together. This journey is more enjoyable when you have someone to share ideas with.

In the end, it’s all about enjoying the process and allowing these small steps to guide you to your own personal masterpiece.

Thank you for taking the time to read, and I hope this information helps you jumpstart your art project! I hope these steps and insights help you feel more confident as you embark on your own creative journey. If you have any questions, would like to share your own experiences, or just want to chat about your art, feel free to comment below or reach out to me directly. And if you enjoyed this, don’t forget to follow and subscribe for more creative tips and behind-the-scenes insights.

Subscribe now

Happy painting!

With love,

Alexandra

In this episode, I open up about:

🎥 Filmmaking Growth

I’ve been deepening my skills behind the camera and stepping into new client projects. I’ll share the lessons, challenges, and small wins that shaped my confidence and expanded my vision as a filmmaker.

🏡 Two Months of Family Time

Living with my parents for two months was beautiful, grounding, and at times emotional. I reflect on what this chapter taught me about family dynamics, reflection, and how returning home can change your creative energy.

👩‍👧 Balancing Motherhood & Art

Motherhood continues to be the place where chaos and creativity meet. I talk about how I navigate my responsibilities as a mom while still carving out space for passion, purpose, and play.

✨ Channel Creativity Oracle Deck: A Big Shift

This season brought a beautiful surprise: I sold many decks at the Ecstatic Dance event I attended — an experience that filled me with gratitude and reminded me how much this project resonates with others.

I also share where I truly am in the process of writing the guidebook. I’m still deep in it, and instead of rushing or pressuring myself to finish quickly, I’m allowing the words to arrive at their own pace. Creativity unfolds so much more honestly when we stop forcing it.

If you’d like to explore the deck, you can find it here:

https://channelcreativity.art/shop/p/channel-creativity-oracle-deck

🌟 Looking Toward 2026

As the year winds down, I’m dreaming into what’s next — upcoming projects, creative intentions, and all the things I’m excited to pour my heart into in 2026.

This episode isn’t perfect, and that’s exactly the point — I’m committed to showing up, growing out loud, and letting each chapter teach me something new. Thank you for being here, for listening, and for exploring this creative path with me.

With love and appreciation,

Alexandra

There’s a strange, beautiful tenderness in returning to a medium you haven’t touched in years. When I started painting the first piece in The Great Sunbath series, I expected my hands to pick up exactly where they left off.

But they didn’t.

The brush felt too dry.

The canvas felt too smooth.

My lines sank into the surface quicker than I remembered.

I felt like a beginner again — but in a way that made me fall in love with the process even more deeply.

⸻

🎨 The Surprise of Picking Up Oil Paints Again

The first shock was how dry the brush felt as I sketched the outline. It dragged across the canvas instead of gliding. It wasn’t me — it was the canvas.

Pre-primed canvases are:

• smoother

• more absorbent

• quick to pull in the oil

So my Raw Umber + Gamsol outline dried instantly into a matte, chalky finish.

It took me a moment to understand:

This was actually good.

This is exactly how classical underdrawings behave.

This dryness is the foundation oils love to sit on.

I wasn’t doing anything wrong.

I was just remembering what I had forgotten.

⸻

🌤️ Then Came the Atmosphere

The reference photo I’m working from is drenched in summer haze — soft trees, blurred mountains, warm sun, glowing floaties.

I used to think I needed to paint every leaf and tree shape for the background to “make sense.”

This time, I learned the opposite:

Atmosphere is created by what you leave out,

not what you put in.

The blurry background became a meditative moment — painting shapes rather than details, warmth rather than outlines, movement rather than information.

And even though the painting was already 60% done, I learned I could still unify everything with a soft oil wash over the background.

That wash changed everything.

⸻

🌞 Relearning — And Learning New Things

Every step of this painting reminded me of something I used to know, but also taught me something new:

• how a warm underpainting can glow through skin tones

• how oil washes unify and soften

• how desaturated greens make backgrounds recede

• how warmth and coolness create depth

• how details matter more in the foreground than the background

It felt like someone handed me both my old toolbox and a new one at the same time.

So in the spirit of sharing (and maybe encouraging someone else dusting off their oils), here are the notes that carried me through this painting.

⸻

🎨✨ Helpful Notes & Techniques

A blend of everything I rediscovered + the new methods I learned during this piece.

⸻

1. Warm Ground Method

If starting fresh:

• Tint gesso with acrylics

• Raw Umber + Burnt Sienna + Yellow Ochre

This creates a glowing, warm underpainting.

If your painting is already started in oils:

• Skip acrylics

• Use an oil wash instead (below)

⸻

2. The Atmospheric Oil Wash

This was my breakthrough.

Mix:

• Raw Umber

• Ultramarine Blue

• Tiny touch Yellow Ochre

• 70–95% Gamsol

Apply to:

• background

• mountains

• trees

• and even the sky (extremely thinly!)

Then rub with a soft cloth for instant atmosphere.

⸻

3. Blurry Background Technique

• Paint masses, not leaves

• Alternate warm and cool tones

• Use Raw Umber to mute greens

• Let edges melt into each other

• Use a makeup brush or mop brush for softness

The less detail you add, the more depth you create.

⸻

4. Color Palette for This Series

Skin:

• Titanium White

• Yellow Ochre

• Burnt Sienna

• Burnt Umber

• Cad Red Light

• Ultramarine (for cool shadows)

Floaties:

Pink:

White + Permanent Rose + Cad Red Light

Orange:

Cad Orange or Yellow + Cad Red Light

Background Greens:

Yellow Ochre + Ultramarine + Raw Umber + White

Mountains:

Ultramarine + Burnt Umber + White

Sky:

White + tiny Phthalo Blue + hint Phthalo Green

⸻

✨ Returning to Oils Has Been a Homecoming

This painting series feels like stepping into sunlight — literally and metaphorically.

I’m remembering old skills.

I’m learning new ones.

I’m discovering layers of myself through every brushstroke.

If you’re returning to oils after a long break, or just beginning, I hope these notes help you the way they helped me.

And if you’re in the middle of your own rediscovery —

I promise you, it’s worth it.

Your hands remember.

Your eyes adapt.

Your heart knows the way back.

This entire body of work will be created in oil on a large scale. What makes this series even more meaningful is that I haven’t properly painted in oils for almost ten years. Picking them up again came with a strange mix of muscle memory and hesitation. At first, everything felt slightly foreign… and then suddenly it all came back, the way riding a bike does. One brushstroke after another, something in me unlocked.

Now that the palette is established and the first piece is taking real form, I know stepping into the second painting will feel easier, more fluid, more grounded.

One of the challenges I’ve been wrestling with has been painting hands. For some reason, as soon as I get to them, I slip into a weird mental tension — like I forget I’m allowed to take my time. But I’m determined to get them right. I want them to feel alive, honest, and expressive. So I’m working through the discomfort, slowly and intentionally.

In this process, I also made a tiny discovery that delighted me more than it probably should: if I want fluffy, realistic cloud edges… I need to use makeup brushes. Yes — makeup brushes. They blend like magic. I know this isn’t a groundbreaking revelation in the art world, but for my process, it felt like unlocking a secret door. I couldn’t stop smiling about it.

The next step is simple but exciting: buy more canvas and start mapping out the next reference photos for the upcoming pieces in the series.

Thank you for following along as this world begins to take shape. I’m learning, remembering, experimenting, and rediscovering myself with every layer of paint.

With love,

Alexandra

Lately I’ve been craving a simple, low-pressure way to reconnect with my creativity. Something playful. Something small. Something that doesn’t ask for perfection, only participation.

So I made a little commitment to myself:

I’m creating 100 mini collages in my sketchbook.

Each one is tiny—quick to make, easy to start, impossible to overthink. But the magic isn’t in the size. It’s in what this practice is beginning to unlock.

Here are 5 reasons I’m doing this challenge… and why it feels so good:

1. The small size makes it quick and inviting

There’s no intimidation here. No blank canvas dread.

A tiny page feels approachable, like a soft whisper saying, “Just start.”

It lowers the entry barrier so I can sit down—even for five minutes—and still create something meaningful.

2. I drop into a creative flow without expectations

Mini collages don’t demand mastery.

I’m not trying to draw perfectly or plan a composition.

I’m just cutting, gluing, layering, following instinct.

And something magical happens: I start creating for the joy of it, not for the outcome.

3. I’m curious to see the patterns that emerge across 100

I love the idea of looking back at all 100 and noticing the subconscious threads—

colors I gravitate toward, shapes that repeat, themes that whisper through without me realizing.

It becomes a visual map of my inner world, slowly revealing itself piece by piece.

4. It builds creative momentum

Tiny steps add up.

Every mini collage becomes a small victory—proof that I showed up, even on days when I’m tired, busy, or uninspired.

And momentum is powerful. It carries you into the next piece… and the next… and the next.

5. It’s just pure fun

Honestly? I’m having fun.

There’s something childlike about cutting paper, arranging fragments, and watching a little universe come together on a page.

It brings me back to play. And I think we all need more of that.

Why this matters to me

As someone who lives and breathes creativity—painting, photography, collage, storytelling—this challenge feels like a return to the heart of making art. No pressure. No performance. Just the simple act of showing up for my own curiosity.

And if I learn something about myself along the way, even better.

If you want to join me…

Grab a sketchbook, scissors, glue, and anything paper-based you can find.

Magazines, old photos, scraps, packaging, receipts—everything becomes raw material.

Make them tiny. Make them messy. Make them fast.

Just make them.

Here’s to 100 little portals of creativity.

Here’s to momentum, curiosity, and play.

Here’s to showing up for the art inside us.

With love,

Alexandra

If any of you are at the beginning of your video career, well, this episode might be for you. I am three years into learning about filming and editing, and I must say that I am likely to make a complete shift from Graphic Design to working solely on video projects. I love it, but that also comes with a lot of ups and downs. So here I am, with the most significant projects to work on this month. I am nervous and excited, and I would love to share my journey of learning this relatively new skill.

So, if any of you are interested to learn together, or need a support buddy…well, I’m here! Reach out, let’s talk it out!

Doing it alone is bleh!

With that, I say thank you for watching my second episode!

With love,

Alexandra

Well, it’s happening! I am embarking on a two-month adventure in the USA with my toddler. I’m nervous but also excited to explore with my son, work on some awesome art projects, and spend time with family.

I have butterflies in my stomach, and I think it’s because the unknown is speaking to me, telling me to trust the process. Everything is going to be more than I expected, and we are safe in this journey.

I didn’t think much about my flying anxiety before having kids, but now that I do, I find myself having some intrusive thoughts that I’m trying to keep in check. Can anyone relate to that?

For those who don't know, I’m a traveling videographer and graphic designer, but I’m leaning more toward video these days. I have a couple of beautiful spiritual events lined up to film, and I’m beyond excited to document these experiences and witness people’s spiritual healing.

I also plan to see friends, join some ecstatic dance events, and teach drawing to some locals in Seattle.

So, why am I writing all of this? I guess I’m nervous and need a way to channel this energy. I’d love for anyone reading this to offer a prayer for us to reach our destination safely and unharmed.

Thank you ❤️

With love,

Alexandra

I'm thrilled to share this episode with you, and it holds valuable insights that can ignite your creativity and propel you forward.

In this episode, I talk about:

1. Jumpstarting and nurturing creativity.

2. Setting realistic and sustainable goals.

3. Overcoming creative fears.

4. Creativity and self-care during the postpartum period ( I’m a mom, so yeah!).

5. Prioritizing self-care.

6. And a creative challenge for the listener.

If you resonate with what I'm creating and want to be a part of my mission to become a full-time artist, I invite you to subscribe and support my journey. Your encouragement means the world to me!

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for joining me on this beautiful journey ❤️

With heartfelt appreciation,

Alexandra