Where My Brush Stays in Summer

Finding Joy in the Brush: My Summer Painting Reflections

Even in the midst of a busy schedule, I make time to pick up my brush. Every summer, I quietly promise myself—I want to paint more. To honor that wish, I try to reach for my brush more often. And if I truly don’t have the time, I’ll at least paint something small, like a postcard-sized sketch. Like writing in a daily journal.

When I go too long without painting, I start to hear a sort of noisy static inside. Maybe it’s the imbalance I feel when I want to create but haven’t had the chance. So these days, I’ve been practicing painting without pressure—without a set theme or goal. I often draw from photographs I took while traveling, trying to recapture the feelings I had in those moments.

In the past, when I focused on something, I would pursue it obsessively until I was satisfied. Especially when it came to painting. But now, I’m learning to let things flow. Like color bleeding softly across wet paper, I want my process—and my thoughts—to flow freely. And within that flow, I want to observe, enjoy, and discover new energy and joy. That’s my goal for this year’s work.

Last year, I wrestled with the question, “Why do I pick up the brush?” It was a personal journey—an inner dialogue to rediscover my purpose. This year, my question has softened: “What kind of joy does painting bring me?” When you’ve been painting for a long time, it’s easy to become numb to the joy and meaning that once sparked your work. And when that happens, the danger of a creative slump grows. That’s why I believe joy is essential—not only for painting, but for everything we do. It is the spark that keeps our motivation alive. As an artist and teacher, I always try to center joy in both my own work and in what I share with students.

Painting is not physically difficult—brushes aren’t heavy, and the process doesn’t require great physical strength. But it does require a lot of emotional energy. That’s why it can be hard to even begin. And when starting feels hard, we naturally paint less. So this year, I’m focusing on painting more frequently, more simply, and always with joy at the center. I’m experimenting with a lighter, freer approach that sustains me instead of draining me.

I’m happy to share that process here. For me, maintaining a blog as an artist has become an important way to record my life, my thoughts, and my creative journey. Since 2021, I’ve posted regularly. And over time, writing has never become boring, meaningless, or discouraging. In fact, it’s become one of my best friends.

Writing helps me release stress, clear my mind, reflect on my path, and reconnect with meaning. It brings me out of fear, fatigue, and anxiety. And painting—though more demanding—is also my best friend. Unlike writing, painting takes more energy to start. But that’s precisely why I want to paint more often, and with more lightness.
​
Sharing my thoughts and progress through this blog is part of what keeps me going. I believe the traces we leave—through words, images, and intentions—can one day become inspiration for someone else. And that’s more than enough reason to keep creating.