Apparently, We’re Doing Both

Nestled Together — Advanced Mixed Media, Second Place, Tombstone Art Show 2026

Some weeks seem to have a theme.

Last week’s theme apparently was: Let’s see how many completely opposite things we can throw at Deb at the same time. 😂

On Friday, I had my first iron infusion. I knew there could be side effects. They warned me. I was prepared.

Or so I thought.

By Saturday, that infusion had absolutely knocked me on my butt. Migraine. Aching joints.

Exhaustion. My body basically sent me a very clear memo:

We will be doing NOTHING today.

And while my body was staging its own personal revolt, something completely different was happening in my art world.

Things were going GREAT.

While I Was Lying on the Couch…

Three of my art pieces sold in one week.

THREE!

Then Nestled Together, my sweet little sleeping piglets, took second place in Advanced Mixed Media category in the Tombstone Art Show.

I wasn't even there for the reception because I felt so lousy from the infusion. Friends sent me pictures and kept me updated, and honestly, I was perfectly happy celebrating from the couch.

Sometimes showing up looks like being there.

Sometimes it looks like staying home with the dog and saying, “YAY ME!” from under a blanket. 😂

I'll take the win either way.

The Problem With Selling Your Art

There is, however, a downside to selling three pieces of art.

You have to replace them.

My wall at the SAAG Gallery is looking mighty bare right now.

Now, let's be clear: There are worse problems than having an empty gallery wall because everything on it sold.

That's a problem I'll happily take!

But it also means I've been back in the studio, working on another piece and trying to get something finished before I leave for Colorado.

Because apparently when life clears a space, my immediate response is:

QUICK! FILL IT! 😂

The beginning of what's going on that empty wall. That's all you get for now! 😂

I'm still working on that whole slowing-down thing.

Colorado, Here I Come

And then there's Colorado.

Very soon I'll be heading out to give a lecture and trunk show, teach, share my artwork, and spend time doing something I absolutely love.

Afterward, I'll get some wonderful downtime with family and friends.

I'm excited.

I'm ready.

Well… mostly ready.

There are still boxes being packed, artwork being organized, clothes that somehow need to find their way into a suitcase, and approximately 847 things running through my brain at any given moment.

You know. The usual.

But between me and Colorado sits one little thing:

Iron infusion number two.

It's this Friday.

And after what happened last weekend?

I'm not exactly skipping happily into that infusion chair.

Dreading It and Doing It Anyway

Here's where I've realized something.

I can dread Friday and be excited about Colorado.

I can be exhausted and incredibly grateful.

I can be frustrated with my body and amazed by everything it has carried me through.

I can want to keep creating and recognize that sometimes I need to stop.

Apparently, life doesn't organize itself into neat little categories called GOOD WEEK and BAD WEEK.

Sometimes it's both.

Maybe most of the time it's both.

Taking Care of the Person Doing All This

Today is actually a perfect example.

I'm writing this before my CST (Creative Strength Training with Jane Dunnewold) call, which always gets my brain going in completely different directions and leaves me feeling energized and inspired.

And afterward?

I'm getting a massage.

Not squeezing in another errand.

Not finding one more thing I can accomplish.

Not standing in the studio thinking, I'll just work for another hour.

A massage.

With an amazing massage therapist, Justin, who has been helping me understand what's happening in this body of mine and helping it recover.

That's part of the work, too.

I'm finally beginning to understand that taking care of myself isn't what I do after everything else is finished.

Because let's face it.

Everything else is NEVER finished.

Maybe Empty Isn't Really Empty

And that brings me back to that bare gallery wall.

I've been looking at those empty spaces thinking about what I need to make to fill them.

But maybe I should look at them differently.

Sometimes an empty space isn't evidence that something is missing. Sometimes it's evidence that something wonderful happened there.

Those empty spaces mean someone connected with something I created enough to take it home.

They mean my art is out there living somewhere else now.

And they made room for whatever I create next.

Maybe life works that way, too.

Not every empty space needs to be filled immediately.

Sometimes we can just stand there for a minute and appreciate what happened.

What About You?

Maybe there’s something in your life right now that feels like a contradiction, too.

Something wonderful happening right alongside something hard.

Maybe you're excited and scared. Grateful and exhausted. Moving forward and needing to rest.

Instead of deciding which feeling you're supposed to have, maybe give yourself permission to have both.

And if there's an empty space somewhere in your life, resist the urge to fill it immediately.

Take a minute.

Look at what used to be there.

Maybe that space isn't empty because you lost something.

Maybe it's empty because something moved forward.

And maybe whatever comes next needs a little room to arrive.

Apparently, We're Doing Both

Maybe that's what I'm learning in this strange season of my life.

I don't have to wait until I'm completely healed, completely rested, completely fearless—or completely anything—to enjoy what's good.

I can dread Friday and look forward to Colorado.

I can be tired and still be inspired.

I can celebrate an empty gallery wall while trying not to frantically fill it again.

I can push when I have something to give and rest when my body says,

“Not today, Wonder Woman.”

I can have hard things happening and still laugh.

I can struggle and celebrate.

I can rest and move forward.

Apparently, we're doing both.

And maybe that's not such a bad way to live.

No Rules, Just Art®