January in Wonder
I’m starting something new this year. A way of paying attention and understanding my emotional landscape through colours.
Somewhere last year, I decided I’ve spent enough years fighting the urge to be a full time artist. When I started on this creative path almost a decade ago, it started with this same urge and deep calling to be an artist. I felt that hunger and fed it in every way I could afford, and over the years have been so supported by the universe in any endeavour I put my mind to. I realized, after years of juggling multiple side jobs and contracts that I was reaching a burn out with being a creative, a wall I would keep hitting over and over.
I asked myself, if I kept going down this road, without changing much would I be happy? And the astounding answer that I’ve known resides within said no. The dream, the lingering ache to paint and be an artist came all the way up to the surface. And I knew that sure I can keep pushing this as far as my years go and wait for that someday to arrive, or I could just leap. So here I am leaping. This year I begin my pilgrimage of being a full-time artist.
Once I took this decision, I was overcome with how many ideas I had. Where do I begin? What do I paint first? And after some quiet time I realized that the part I’m curious about the most, is human emotions and the way we process those emotions. How could I find a way to study this? I decided to use my own emotions as a starting point to chart a map across the months.
I’m calling this exploration, Landscape of Emotions and I’m excited to share it with you.
Each month, I’ll sit with one emotion and explore it through color. Not to define it, or pin it down, but to see what it feels like when I stay with it for a while. To notice, observe and make it feel seen. Over time, these monthly explorations will grow into a larger body of work — a visual record of how emotion moves through a year.
I keep coming back to the idea of emotions moving through us and forming a sort of landscape. Something we move through rather than “solve.” Some months feel open and expansive, others more inward. Some feel unfamiliar. Some feel like home.
January, for me, is about wonder. Echoing Camus, In the midst of this ice blue winter, I have found within me an invincible burning red of summer.
Wonder holds the gentleness for me and has shown up in the way I’ve slowed down for myself. It’s seeing through the eyes of a child, without assumptions or judgement. It’s not loud or demanding. It’s the feeling of noticing something before you have language for it — before it becomes expectation or fear or certainty.
This January holds a lot of that for me. A sense of beginning again. Of standing at the edge of something unknown, but not with anxiety — more with curiosity. Like something quietly growing, asking to be witnessed rather than rushed.
In color, wonder feels light and spacious. There’s softness to it, but also life. Nothing fixed yet. Everything still possible.
This month isn’t about answers. It’s about staying open.
That’s where I want to begin. Holding space for enormous wonder, and allowing that to move me to wider meadows.
Rituals helped me get closer to Wonder this January
Spending time observing something that’s mid-becoming: dawn light, frozen lakes, buds on a branch, a half-finished building, a energy dip coming in.
Look at the world from a lower vantage point — sit on the floor, walking on frozen grass, knowing what’s underneath the surface, staring at stars on a cold winter evening.
Asking your soul one quiet question a day without needing an immediate answer, though those are always welcome.
Reading Enchantment: Awakening Wonder In An Anxious Age. My favorite qoute from the book — “But seeking is a kind of work. I don’t mean heading off on wild road trips just to see the stars that are shining above your own roof. I mean committing to a lifetime of engagement: to noticing the world around you, to actively looking for small distillations of beauty, to making time to contemplate and reflect. To learning the names of the plants and places that surround you, or training your mind in the rich pathways of the metaphorical. To finding a way to express your interconnectedness with the rest of humanity. To putting your feet on the ground, every now and then, and feeling the tingle of life that the earth offers in return. It’s all there, waiting for our attention. Take off your shoes, because you are always on holy ground.”
Visuals that me made me feel Wonder this January
Mark Rothko (early works) — for color as atmosphere rather than form
Agnes Martin — restraint, softness, and reverence
Hiroshi Sugimoto’s seascapes — horizon as mystery
Georgia O’Keeffe skies & abstractions — spaciousness and awe
Find this and more on my Pinterest board for this month’s emotions visual inspiration — Find it here.
