“I didn't set out to become an artist. I set out to find my way back to myself.”
-Jennifer Flanders
My Story
I came to painting not because I wanted to be an artist, but because I was searching for peace, for presence, and for a way back to myself. I had spent decades as an over-thinker, trying to control every outcome, disconnected from my own intuition, and living more in my head than in my body.
Picking up a paintbrush for the first time in over thirty years changed that. Not because of what I painted, but because of what the act of painting did for me. For the first time as an adult I was doing something purely for the pleasure of it- no agenda, no outcome, no performance. Just paint moving through water, color emerging on paper, and the experience of letting something unfold without trying to control it.
I discovered that this was the most direct path I had ever found to genuine presence. And once I found it, I couldn't stop.
Over time my painting practice became something more intentional - a ceremony in itself, with ritual, meditation and energy work woven into every session. That’s what I bring to every piece I create.
A Designer’s Eye
What I bring to every painting is also shaped by more than thirty years working as an interior designer, most of those spent in New York City, a city that is relentlessly stimulating, culturally rich, and full of design influence at every turn. I spent decades transforming spaces, sourcing art for clients, and developing a deep understanding of how art lives in a home and what it does to the people who live with it.
I understand better than most how a single piece can shift the energy of an entire room, not just visually, but in the way a space feels to inhabit. That understanding came from years of experience, from standing in rooms and trusting what I felt.
That eye developed throughout my design career is present in every painting I make today.
“I spent decades trying to control every outcome. Painting taught me that the most beautiful things appear when I let go."”
My Method
When I paint, I rarely plan my color palette in advance. I reach for colors intuitively, putting combinations together that sometimes seem like they shouldn't work, and watching something beautiful emerge anyway. I lose track of time completely. The best days are the ones with nothing on my schedule and hours ahead of me in my studio.
The method I work with is built around water and surrender. Wet pigment pulled through water, color blooming across paper in ways that can never be replicated. I am consistently amazed at what appears on the page when a painting dries - pieces I could never plan or recreate, because they came through in a specific moment of presence that will never exist again.
I also bring this practice to other women through ceremonial cacao gatherings and meditative painting workshops. But the invitation isn't to create a beautiful painting; it's to connect with their truest expression, to be fully present in their bodies through breath and embodiment, and to use that experience as an energetic framework they can carry out of the studio and into their lives.
