
I was late to the gate when I learned about an outdoor art market being hosted by the Acworth Arts Alliance and Qualusi Vineyards.
I've been to Qualusi before. It's a fun local vineyard and winery behind a suburban neighborhood in Acworth (Georgia). Driving there for the first time, I confess I started to wonder where the heck is this place?? (It's there; I promise.) I've also participated in previous art markets with the Acworth Arts Alliance - The Art House. Always a good time.
So...being the shameless self-promoter I am, I reached out to see if I could still nab a table to share my art, which happens to be writing. When the amazing organizers graciously said yes, I did a little last-minute social media promo, packed up my vehicle, and headed to the vineyards.

When I say the organizers of this event were amazing, I mean A-MAZ-ING. Michelle, Cathy, and Maria, along with their life partners and other friends, provided help whenever and wherever needed to assemble tents, lug heavy items, find a table for someone who forgot hers(!), and handle all sales and logistics.
(I greatly appreciated the extra helping hands as my publicist/roadie/favorite husband was busy overseeing advanced voting that day, leaving me to work the event solo. Not that he didn't provide moral support and cheer me: "May the amount you make selling books surpass your bar tab." Oh, Rice....)
What can I say? With temperatures in the 90s, I did enjoy (and highly recommend) Qualusi's wine slushes. (And I did sell a few books, too.)

As I continue to celebrate creativity this year, I'd like to give a shout-out to ALL the wonderful artists who showed up to share their work and celebrate the inaugural Art in the Vines event on June 12th. I'm sorry I didn't have time to meet and greet everyone, but I did want to pass along contact info for a few individuals I met throughout the day who inspired me to keep on creating.

I can't imagine packing up art supplies to lug into 90-degree weather and then proceeding to create WITH A SMILE, but these two artists did it with grace.
Christina Wysocki (top L & R) is a self-taught artist who enjoys working in both acrylic and oil. She particularly enjoys painting landscape and still life. https://www.linkedin.com/in/christina-wysocki-b9643368/
Dorothy Reavis is a multidisciplinary artist who believes artwork should provoke thoughts, feelings, and conversations. She teaches as well as creating. https://www.dorothyreavis.com/

Lindsey Dobbins (top L & R) enjoys melding bold color, movement, and emotion into her expressive acrylic paintings. https://www.thebeeskneesartistry.com/about-1
Debbie Elliott-Aloisio (bottom L & R) enjoys painting (for pleasure or on commission), participating in traveling art shows, and creating novelty items such as the paper vases recently displayed at Qualusi Vineyards. https://www.instagram.com/elliottaloisio.art/

Dawn Doty (top right) owns Precious Foundations and creates beautiful wire-wrapped jewelry. https://www.instagram.com/doty.dawn
Ollie and Angie (top left) are passionate about music, whether performing together, solo, or with other musicians. Their jazz rocked at Art in the Vines! https://www.facebook.com/ollie.patterson1 https://angietillmanmusic.com/home
Don Kirk (bottom right) owns dek Art Glass, where he specializes in creating stunning fused glass art. For more information, email Don at dekirk01@gmail.com

The Dream Team of organizers are artists themselves. Check out their work. They deserve to be seen, too.
Cathryn "Cathy" Green (above left) is passionate about painting, specializing in watercolors of homestead family memories and new properties alike. She is an Acworth Arts Alliance's -Art House founding member and currently serves as its executive director. https://www.cmgreen-artist.com/
Michelle Carpenter (top right) is an Acworth Arts Alliance board member and artist. She served as event coordinator for this year's inaugural Art in the Vines event. Kudos, Michelle.
Marie Starr (bottom right) is a familiar face at The Art House, where she works as an artist, teaches classes, and also handles a lot of behind-the-scenes to-dos. Her specialty is pottery. https://www.potteryofthestarrs.com/shop
For more information on member artists, go to https://www.acworthartsalliance.org/
For information on planning a wine-and-relaxation stop, go to https://www.qualusivineyards.com/

(NOTE: I love sharing guest posts about others’ creative journeys in this space, but no one else stepped up to the challenge this month. So this month’s blog post is by, tada, me.)
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When I first started my blog in 2018, I worked full time as a grant writer. Up to my neck in grant applications, word counts, and fundraising metrics, I just wanted an outlet to create. For better or worse, that creative urge often prompted me to want to illustrate some of my posts.

I loved working on those pen-and-paper creations. It left me relaxed and with an overall sense of well-being. And it got me wondering why.


(Maybe I'd like to be a cartoonist when I grow up, given my continued attempts at illustrations, like the two above. A cartoonist, or perhaps a songwriter.)
Anyway, when I found a piece on creating with pen-and-paper written by Ashley Roper in 2025 for a site called The Sense Hub, it resonated with me. It also provided possible answers to my question: Why do I get so jazzed about putting pen to paper?
Below is a link to Roper's piece in its entirety.
The piece focuses on handwriting, but I suspect it applies to other forms of creating with pen and paper (or baby canvases) as well, like sketching or practicing Zentangle.

Oh, in case you’re interested in seeing Roper’s list in its most succinct form, here you go:
Handwriting enhances memory and learning.
Writing by hand reduces stress and anxiety
Pen and paper boost creativity and problem-solving skills.
Handwriting improves focus and concentration.
Writing by hand helps you to express yourself authentically.
Pen and paper encourage mindfulness and self-reflection.
Handwriting creates a deeper connection to your work.
Pen and paper offer a break from screen time.
Handwriting can improve your fine motor skills.
Pen and paper offer a sense of accomplishment.
Handwriting can be a form of self-care.
Pen and paper facilitate better collaboration and communication.
Handwriting is a unique and personal expression of yourself.
If reading this post hasn't given you the urge to write a postcard or doodle for a while, no worries. (Take it from me. I chose my word of the year for the very purpose of not fretting over things that matter little.)

Then again, if reading this post has left you itching to get out a pen and something to write on, have at it. Consider it a form of self-care.
You’re welcome.
Until next time ~ happy creating! Jan
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P.S. Please, please reach out if you have an artistic pursuit you’d be willing to share as part of my ongoing Creativity Challenge. If you’re shy about the writing part, I can help. Or…say the word, and I’ll get the heck out of your way.
P.P.S. I've started participating in short-term FREE eBook giveaways to support other writers creating in similar genres to me. I'm talking about my fiction here, which I've taken to calling cozy-dark Southern mystery. Because some folks consider my fiction cozy and others think of it as suspense with a supernatural twist, I'm sharing links to giveaways for both cozy and suspense eBooks here. No pressure. But if you'd care to give some new writers a try, this is a great (FREE!!) way to do it.

Something strange happens when you plant a seed. You place it in the soil, cover it with dirt, give it water, and then you wait. A few days later a small green shoot breaks through the ground, and suddenly you realize something important: food does not begin at the grocery store. It begins with a seed, an idea, and patience. Watching that process unfold has changed the way I see the world.

Somewhere along the way, many of us lose touch with the simple act of being human—growing food, making things with our hands, and understanding where our daily life actually comes from. We became busy, productive, and efficient, but often disconnected from the basic rhythms that once guided human life.
Over the past five years, my husband Sam and I have been rediscovering those rhythms. Today we live on five acres in the bottom of the Snake River Canyon in southern Idaho. Here we are practicing what might best be described as modern homesteading—growing food, making things ourselves, and learning skills that reconnect us with how life used to work.

But our story didn’t begin here.
For the first fifty years of my life, home was Phoenix. Phoenix was where adulthood unfolded—where I worked, raised a family, and moved through the pace of a large city. Life there was busy and forward-moving, like it is for many people building careers and families.
Later, another chapter opened when Sam and I moved to a condo overlooking the lights of the Las Vegas Strip. For five years we lived above one of the most energetic places on earth. The city was always awake, always moving, always full of excitement.
During those years we traveled extensively. Travel has a way of expanding your perspective. You begin to notice that there are many ways to live. Some communities live quickly, surrounded by technology and constant motion. Others move at a slower pace, deeply connected to land, food, and tradition. At the time, I didn’t realize those experiences were preparing me for the next chapter.

Five years ago, we left Las Vegas and moved to our property here in southern Idaho. The shift was dramatic. Canyon walls and open skies replaced city lights. Instead of traffic and constant activity, we began to hear the quiet. And in that quiet, something unexpected began to happen.
We started growing food. At first it was simple—just learning how to plant a garden. But once you start growing food, it becomes much more than a hobby. You begin to understand food differently. It no longer begins in a store or a package. It begins with the decision to plant something. First comes the idea. Then you find the seeds. Then you ask the practical questions: When should it be planted? How much water does it need? What soil works best?
Once the seeds are in the ground, the most remarkable part begins. We watch our food grow. A tiny seed becomes a plant. A plant becomes nourishment. Eventually we harvest vegetables, herbs, and fruit that end up on our table. What we can’t eat immediately is preserved through canning or freeze-drying so it can feed us later in the year.

Gardening has changed our relationship with food completely. It has also led us to explore other ways of creating things we use every day. Our neighbors are beekeepers, so we buy honey directly from the hive next door. We make candles using local beeswax. We are learning how to make soap using tallow from local sources. Every project becomes another small step toward understanding how life used to work.
Because we are constantly experimenting and learning, we jokingly call our home Orrick University. This five-acre property has become our personal campus—a place where we can explore ideas about health, food, creativity, and what it really means to live intentionally. Through meditation, journaling, gardening, and creating things with our hands, we are slowly rediscovering parts of life that modern culture often forgets.

Creativity has become a daily part of our lives. A deep source of this creativity comes from the environment itself. Nature slows the mind down. When you work in a garden, watch seasons change, and see food grow from the soil, your perspective shifts. Life feels less rushed and more connected to something timeless.
This year I turned sixty. And surprisingly, this may be the most meaningful chapter of my life. Earlier chapters were about building a life—moving forward, meeting responsibilities, keeping up with the pace of the world. This chapter feels different. Now I am no longer running toward life or running away from it. I am simply living it. And through this process, something unexpected has become clear. In many ways, this chapter of life is about rediscovering what it means to be human again. To grow food. To cook real meals. To create things with your hands. To reflect.

Sam and I love how we’re reconnecting with the land that sustains us. After a lifetime that began in Phoenix, passed through the lights of Las Vegas, traveled across oceans and continents, and eventually landed here in southern Idaho, I find myself exactly where I need to be. Here, at Orrick University, learning every day how to be human again.
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