Why I Started an Art Business

To kick off this little business blog of mine, I’d like to color an introductory picture of my brand, how it got started, and what I’m all about. As a disclaimer, I haven’t written anything worthwhile in nearly four years. So I can’t promise that what I’m about to write is worth your while, but I’ll give it a shot.

Another disclaimer - Google and all the marketing lords tell me that my blog posts should be littered in key words and SEO strategies and {insert marketing tactic here}. If you know me well, you know that I enjoy writing. You know that I studied it in undergrad. And you know that I’m not about to trash my prose with fluffy words and links that may or may not move me up in the search results and/or generate a marginal amount of cash.

I just want to write.

Photo credit: Kaitlyn Hull Photography

If you don’t know me well, hello! I’m Shelby. I’m a self-taught watercolor artist from Minnesota, and I’m the creator of this whole shindig. I paint outdoorsy art for outdoorsy people because, as you might’ve guessed, I love the outdoors.

Broken Paddle Studio emerged from the trenches of new motherhood when I found myself longing for something outside the walls of diaper changes, nap schedules, and sleep deprivation. If you’re a parent, you know how tough those first few months — heck, years — of raising kids can be. My daughter was born in late February, 2019. Her arrival changed my entire world, flipped it upside down and shook it with this fierceness that I can only describe as unequivocal love. My dad warned me before I had kids. He said, You don’t know what love is until you become a parent. And while that may not be a universal truth that should be shouted from the rooftops, I certainly felt it the day I became a mom, and that feeling has only intensified. Violet was and is the love of my life. Her birth enhanced every cell in my body and transformed me into this person who saw colors differently; a person who knew that she was put on this earth to be a mother. God has blessed me in incredible ways, and I still don't know how I got so lucky.

Photo Credit: Donna Rae Photography

Yet, some days I didn’t feel so lucky. Sustaining and nourishing the life of a newborn is damn hard. It’s a tornado of softness, incessant worry, stress (oh, the stress), incredible joy, and more worry. It fills every crevice of your life until you look in the mirror one day and don’t quite recognize the reflection staring back at you. For me, that moment arrived about six months into motherhood. It’s the moment that led me one night, un-showered and physically depleted, to a YouTube tutorial on watercolor because I desperately wanted — no — needed something that fed the “me” before motherhood. I had always been artistic. I minored in studio art in college but, funny enough, dreaded the watercolor unit. My high school art classes were my second favorite, just behind concert band, of course. And my dad’s the best artist I know. So I dusted off my old watercolor brushes, opened up my crusty palette, and spent the next few weeks falling back in love with art.

But really, when I think about that moment now, it kinda seems like I fell back in love with myself. Art helped me do that. Watercolor became something that I could escape to when the weight of parenting felt too heavy. Not that caring for Violet wasn’t the greatest part of my days - because it was. But sometimes it wasn’t. I hope that makes sense.

A couple months after pouring myself into watercolor tutorials and practicing night after night at my kitchen table, a friend suggested I open an Etsy shop for my art. It’s laughable now because, at the time, my work was… not great. Was it better than the average Joe’s? Sure. But it’s pretty remarkable to recognize how far I’ve come as an artist after three short years in business.

Three years.

I’ve been a business owner for a little over three years, and I still wake up feeling so grateful to God for leading me down this path; a path that bloomed out of the complex contradictions of learning how to be a new person, how to be a mom.

Since opening my Etsy shop in the winter of 2019, my family and I moved from Traverse City, Michigan to Sitka, Alaska where we currently reside. My husband is a pilot in the Coast Guard, so we’ve planted several roots across the country, which is a bittersweet reality. Oh, I should note - we also added two more members to the family at the same time - twin boys! They’re two now, Violet is nearly four, and I can’t go anywhere without a stranger telling me, “You’ve sure got your hands full!” The sarcastic cynic in me always wants to reply, “Sure do! You want one?” Instead, I just laugh and smile and silently curse as I cram a double stroller through a narrow door while demands for snacks blast in my ears (pro parenting tip: always. bring. snacks).

Photo Credit: Kaitlyn Hull Photography

Twins are hard. Like, a million times harder than anything I’ve ever done — and I used to teach high schoolers. The boys’ names are Will and Eli, and I could write about them forever. I could tell you about breastfeeding two infants and how that was a trip I never need to go on ever, ever, ever again. I could tell you how opposite they are, how William is feisty and loud and Eli is gentle and observant. I could tell you about all the times I cried - there were many. But really, all you should know about my boys is that they added a vibrancy to my life that I didn’t know I needed. They, too, are the loves of my life.

And they, too, are the reason I paint. I could go back to work. I could go through the recertification process of being a teacher. Heck, I could probably go back to being a copywriter. But through the bumps and triumphs of motherhood, I discovered a part of myself that I don’t plan on abandoning. My kids give me purpose, and my work as an artist makes me a better mom, which ultimately fuels my purpose. It’s a beautiful marriage, motherhood and art, and I hope I’m showing my kids what it means to honor yourself through the work that you do, because, I’m telling you, my ability to paint is one of the greatest honors of my life.

Second only to being a mom and a child of God.

If you stuck around to the end of this post - thank you. Writing anything personal always feels a little uncomfortable, especially when you’re rusty at it like me. So I truly appreciate you being here. I appreciate your interest in my business. And I appreciate you reading my very first blog post as a business owner.

I hope it was worth your while.

Cheers,

Shelby