Maybe Flow Needs a Little Preparation

Hi Friend! 💖

Last week I wrote about wanting to make the right art.

This week, I finally got back into my storage-unit studio.

The weather had cooled down enough that I could actually be out there without melting, and I told myself:

Do not overthink this. Just paint.

So I did.

I grabbed some of the old custom-mixed paints that had been sitting for years — some too thick, some too thin, some honestly a little questionable — and decided to see what happened.

Because part of what I love about painting is the mystery.

Maybe something too thick creates a texture I never would have planned.

Maybe something too thin moves differently.

Maybe a weird combination reveals something I never would have discovered if I had done everything “correctly.”

So I played.

And I made two paintings that looked different from what I normally create.

I was excited.

I kept checking them as they settled and dried, wondering what they were going to become.

For a little while, I had exactly what I had been craving:

I was painting again.

And Then My Studio Fell on Me 😂

This is where the story became significantly less poetic.

I had brought my dog with me, and for years I’ve attached her leash to the leg of one of my folding tables while I work.

No big deal.

Except now, because space is tight, I’ve been stacking tables vertically so I can create more drying space.

Which sounded clever...

until I forgot the leash was attached to the bottom table.

As I was getting ready to leave and pulling her leash free, the upper table shifted.

And suddenly there were:

tables.
fans.
paint supplies.
paintings.
all the things.

Coming down.

On my back.

I was trying to manage the dog, process what had happened, and look at the two paintings I had been so excited about...

which were now ruined.

And I stood there thinking:

Okay. Apparently we do need a system. 😂

Day Two Was Different

When I went back the next day, I had a completely different attitude.

Instead of:

LET’S JUST THROW PAINT EVERYWHERE AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS

it was more like:

All right. Let’s get correct with this space.

I spent the day going through dozens of old paint bottles.

Opening.

Stirring.

Shaking.

Testing.

Figuring out what had survived years of heat, cold, freezing, thawing, and general neglect.

And surprisingly?

Most of it survived.

Some were perfect.

Some needed help.

Some were giant globs that I still refuse to throw away because now I’m imagining mixing them into spackle and making textured 3D art.

Obviously. 😂

But while I was sorting through paint, I was also redesigning the space.

Where does the spinner table go?

Where do the cameras go?

How do I make sure everything is level?

How do I create drying space without building a death trap above my head?

How does the dog fit into this safely?

How do I make enough room to move so I can actually get into flow once I start?

And that’s when the lesson of the week started becoming obvious.

Sometimes Flow Needs Preparation

The first day, I thought preparation might just be another version of overthinking.

And sometimes it is.

Sometimes I genuinely need to stop planning and just put paint on the damn canvas.

But the second day reminded me that creativity and structure are not enemies.

Sometimes the structure is what protects the creativity.

The goal isn’t to organize everything perfectly before I’m allowed to make something.

The goal is to create an environment where I can actually lose myself in the making without a folding table crashing onto my back.

That feels reasonable. 😂

There’s also this very Pennsylvania problem happening in the background.

All summer I waited for it to cool down enough that I could comfortably work in the storage unit.

Then suddenly I remembered:

Oh right. Pennsylvania.

It can be 85 degrees one day and 45 the next.

So now I’ve gone directly from:

It is way too hot to paint out here.

to:

WAIT. MY PAINT IS GOING TO FREEZE.

Which has me thinking more seriously about how I create through the colder months too.

Maybe I need a kitty-cat-proof space inside.

Maybe I pull out the easel again.

Maybe I paint upright.

Maybe I use a different artist muscle.

Maybe the change in seasons doesn’t have to stop the art.

Maybe it just changes how I make it.

Bringing the Sparkle Somewhere New

Friday night, before Highland, I set up at Cedar Cliff High School for the West Shore Stadium football game.

It was a new community for me, which always gives me a little extra energy because I get to watch people discover what I do for the first time.

And they were into it. 😂

There is something really fun about showing up somewhere new with all the sparkle, color, face paint, henna, and hair tinsel and watching people go from:

“What is all this?”

to:

“WAIT. I need that.”

I also have to give a shout-out to Jillian, one of the moms who invited me to be part of the evening and helped orchestrate getting me there in the first place.

I barely had the bandwidth to add another thing to my week, but I’m really glad I said yes.

Sometimes the opportunities that feel like one more thing are the ones that remind me why I love bringing this colorful little world into new communities.

Then I Got to Trust a Different Kind of Flow

Saturday I headed back to Highland Orchards.

Alone.

My painting partner was sick, which meant there was no second face painter, no one doing hair tinsel, no Sparkle helper, no money person.

Just me.

Coming off a Friday night event.

Not enough sleep.

And one giant day ahead of me.

My brain could have gone straight into anxiety.

Instead, I reminded myself:

Brookie. You’ve been doing this for more than a decade. This is not your first rodeo.

So I stopped trying to predict everything that could go wrong.

And I trusted the version of me who already knows what she’s doing.

I painted my heart out from 9:00 to 5:00.

And somehow?

It turned into one of the best days I’ve ever had there.

That felt important too.

Because there are parts of my creative life I’m rebuilding...

and parts I already know deeply.

I know how to connect with people.

I know how to make kids light up.

I know how to bring joy into a space.

I know how to trust my hands.

Maybe that’s what I need to do with the painting too.

Prepare the space.

Show up.

Trust the hands.

Making Room for the Artist Again

There’s a bigger layer underneath all of this.

When we moved to Central Pennsylvania, we downsized everything and moved into a third-floor apartment thinking it was temporary.

Somehow, it has been almost five years.

For five years I’ve gotten really good at making do.

Finding corners.

Finding workarounds.

Finding somewhere to put the supplies.

Making temporary solutions work way longer than intended.

And I’m grateful I learned how to adapt.

But I also feel ready for something different.

I don’t want to keep asking:

How do I squeeze myself into the space I already have?

I want to start asking:

What kind of environment would help me grow into the next version of myself?

I think someday I need a studio with a pulse.

People.

Energy.

Conversation.

Movement.

A place where art feels alive.

Maybe I need to find that place.

Maybe someday I create that place.

But in the meantime, I need to keep making room for the artist wherever I am.

Simplifying the Sparkle Side Too

And apparently making room also means simplifying some things.

Do I really need 31 different Sparkle choices?

Probably not. 😂

I already know what combinations people love.

So I’m starting to think in terms of Brookie Blends — curated combinations that make the decision easier for everyone.

Less decision fatigue.

Less mental clutter.

More connection.

More room in my brain to create.

I’m also bringing my motivational magnets more intentionally into the Sparkleverse.

I’ve already been testing different artwork, Bible verses, sports, and messages with real people.

Now I want to connect them more directly to:

WONDER. GROW. FLOW. RISE. RADIATE.

Little pieces of art and encouragement for whatever part of the journey someone is standing in.

A school locker.

A dorm fridge.

A kitchen refrigerator.

A tiny reminder of something hopeful, grounding, or rooted in God.

Scripture I’m Carrying This Week

“Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and he will establish your plans.” — Proverbs 16:3, NIV

I have a lot of ideas.

Paintings.

Jellyfish.

Sunflowers.

Magnets.

Sparkles.

A future studio.

Probably three more things before lunch. 😂

But I don’t need to build all of it today.

I just need to make room for the next thing.

Where to Find Me This Weekend 

and celebrating my 45th birthday. 🎉✨

Honestly, if I could ask for anything for 45, it would be a day full of ease, flow, laughter, connection, and joy.

That sounds pretty perfect.

With paint bottles everywhere and a heart ready for the next phase,
Brookie ✨

Back to blog

Leave a comment