What the Artists of The Turquoise Iris Journal Taught Me About Returning to Wonder
There is a quiet kind of longing that many of us carry.
It isn’t necessarily a desire to leave our homes or abandon our responsibilities. It isn’t always a dream of sandy beaches, mountain cabins, or passports filled with stamps. More often, it’s a longing to feel present again, to wake up with curiosity instead of obligation, to notice beauty in ordinary moments, and to remember what it feels like to lose ourselves in something that brings us joy.
Life has a way of becoming wonderfully full. Families grow. Businesses demand our attention. Appointments fill the calendar, laundry fills the baskets, and somehow another week passes before we’ve had a chance to catch our breath. Even the things we love can begin to feel like items on a checklist when we’re moving from one responsibility to the next.
Every now and then, we find ourselves thinking, I just need to get away.
There’s nothing wrong with that feeling. Travel has a remarkable way of expanding our perspective. A weekend in a charming small town, an afternoon exploring a museum, or a walk along an unfamiliar shoreline can remind us that the world is larger than our routines. New places awaken our senses because everything asks us to pay attention. We notice the architecture, the colors, the sounds, even the way the light falls differently in a place we’ve never been before.
But eventually, we return home. The suitcase is unpacked. The emails are waiting. The groceries need bought, the dog still needs walked, and Monday arrives right on schedule.
Many of us have experienced the disappointment of realizing that while a vacation may refresh us for a little while, it doesn’t always change the pace or posture of our everyday lives. We begin counting the weeks until the next opportunity to escape, believing that rest and inspiration exist somewhere outside the life we’re already living.
When we began planning Volume 24 of The Turquoise Iris Journal, we chose the theme Escape because we knew it was a word that would resonate. We imagined stories about beautiful destinations, quiet retreats, creative adventures, and the places artists go to refill their cups.
Those stories certainly found their way into these pages.
But as artwork arrived, interviews unfolded, and conversations deepened, another story began to emerge. The artists featured in this volume weren’t talking about escape as a destination.
They were talking about it as a practice.
Again and again, they described moments that happened not on faraway vacations but in ordinary places. A pottery studio tucked into a backyard. A kitchen table covered in watercolor paints. A beach where shells are collected one slow walk at a time. A dance class that becomes an hour of complete freedom. An antique shop filled with forgotten treasures waiting for someone to imagine their stories. A journal opened before the rest of the house wakes.
Each artist had found a different way to step outside the constant noise of everyday life, not by leaving it behind, but by entering it more fully.
As I read through their stories, I began to notice something remarkable. Their mediums couldn’t have been more different. One artist works with clay, another with abstract paint. Some create intricate mosaics from steel and glass, while others gather shells, build miniature worlds, or layer vintage papers into mixed media collages. Their backgrounds, experiences, and creative journeys are wonderfully unique.
Yet beneath every story ran the same quiet thread.
Each artist had discovered something that helped them slow down enough to notice – color, texture, light, and beauty hiding in places that most of us rush past every day.
Perhaps that is what true escape has always been. Not leaving our lives, but returning to them with fresh eyes.
That realization changed the way I experienced this entire volume.
Instead of seeing a collection of individual articles, we see a conversation unfolding across the pages, and through each artist we see that creativity flourishes when we stop chasing perfection and begin embracing curiosity. Even the Journal’s featured color, tangerine, seemed to carry this message. Warm, energetic, and impossible to ignore, it invites us to wake up to the beauty already surrounding us. It encourages us to play, to experiment, and to welcome a little more brightness into our everyday lives.
This volume wasn’t really asking readers where they wanted to go. It is asking a much more interesting question.
What helps you come alive?
The answer will be different for every one of us.
For some, it will be found in a sketchbook or a garden. For others, it may begin with a morning walk, a favorite novel, a dance class, or an afternoon spent wandering through a flea market. Perhaps it starts by finally opening the box of art supplies that’s been tucked away for years, or by simply sitting quietly with a cup of coffee and watching the sunlight move across the room.
There isn’t one right answer, and that’s the beauty of this volume.
The artists you’ll meet in the pages ahead aren’t offering a single definition of escape. They’re extending thirteen different invitations, each one personal, each one generously shared, and each one reminding us that wonder is rarely as far away as we imagine.
I invite you to rediscover the extraordinary hidden within the life you’re already living.
The Conversation Woven Through These Pages
The artists don’t all define ESCAPE the same way. In fact, many of them never use the word at all. Yet each story reveals a practice, a place, or a perspective that allows them to step outside the hurried pace of everyday life and reconnect with what matters most.
For some, that begins with wonder.
Robin Davis creates intricate miniature worlds that invite us to lean in a little closer. Looking at her work, it’s impossible not to smile. More importantly, it’s difficult not to remember what it felt like to see the world with the curiosity of a child.
That same spirit of curiosity appears again in Royce Hunt-Bell‘s feature, although it takes a very different form with her remarkable eye for beauty hidden inside old things. Rather than rushing toward what’s new, she encourages us to linger with what already exists.
Many of these artists have learned to trust the creative process rather than control it.
That willingness to embrace uncertainty appears in Erin Mullis‘ abstract paintings. Her work celebrates intuition over perfection, inviting viewers to experience color, movement, and texture without asking them to search for a recognizable subject.
Kathy Cano-Murillo, known to many as Crafty Chica, brings an entirely different energy to the conversation. Reading her story feels like sitting across the table from a friend who reminds you that art doesn’t have to be serious to be meaningful. Joy, after all, is a creative practice too.
Kristi Somers writes about working with clay in a way that feels almost meditative. Pottery refuses to be rushed. Her lessons extend far beyond the studio. They become lessons for living.
Amanda Dillon creates from materials shaped by time, with shells, sea glass, and driftwood finding new purpose in her artwork, with time leaving its own kind of beauty behind.
The same appreciation for the natural world continues in Kimberly Conrad‘s peaceful coastal landscapes. Her paintings invite us to pause and breathe, reminding us why water has always drawn people seeking rest.
Transformation takes another form in Amy Keever’s art with steel, glass, and mosaic. Her work reminds us that strength and beauty aren’t opposites, they often exist together, shaped through patience, vision, and the willingness to see possibility where others might only see raw materials.
For Renee Smith, creativity is woven into the quiet rhythms of everyday life. Whether she’s painting furniture, creating in her studio, or reflecting on the role faith plays in her journey, Renee reminds us that escape isn’t always found in grand adventures.
BJ Massa shares her experience of returning to dance later in life, discovering that movement could quiet the mind in ways words often cannot. Her story is about rediscovering joy and giving herself permission to move freely again.
Echoing that idea through both paint and movement, Porsha Chalmers describes creativity as a place where expectations begin to fall away. Rather than striving for perfection, she embraces flow and settling fully into the present moment.
This spirit of playful exploration continues with Kim White, whose mixed media butterfly project is a reminder that creativity doesn’t have to begin with brand-new supplies or elaborate plans. Her approach encourages us to experiment freely, embrace the process, and rediscover the joy of simply making.
Andie Hamilton explores the idea that transformation often begins with saying “yes” to new experiences. Whether she’s painting, traveling, or finding inspiration in the beauty of everyday moments, she reminds us that escape isn’t always about going somewhere far away.
None of these artists were creating to escape their lives.
They were creating because their art helped them experience life more fully.
Their studios became places where they paid closer attention. Their materials became teachers. Their creative practices reminded them to notice color, texture, light, rhythm, memory, and beauty in places they might otherwise overlook.
That’s why this volume feels so cohesive, even though every artist works differently.
Yet every one of them is asking the same quiet question:
What happens when we slow down long enough to truly see?
As readers, we’re invited into that question too.
An Invitation to Escape
When you read this volume, I invite you to enjoy the pieces from each artist, but more so, I invite you to remember the feeling of being invited into this space.
The feeling of sitting beside artists who were generous enough to share not only what they create, but why they create it. Artists who were willing to talk about the winding roads that led them to their work, the seasons that shaped them, and the simple practices that continue to bring them back to themselves.
In a world that often celebrates finished products, polished portfolios, and overnight success, these pages offer something quieter and, perhaps, more meaningful. They remind us that creativity isn’t a destination we arrive at once we’ve mastered a skill or found enough free time. It’s a lifelong companion, one that evolves with us through every season of life.
Each story offers something different, and together, they remind us that there is no single way to live a creative life.
That has always been one of the things I love most about The Turquoise Iris Journal. Every volume brings together artists with different backgrounds, different mediums, and different life experiences, yet there is a thread that connects them all. They create because making something with their hands, their hearts, or their imaginations helps them experience the world more fully. Their creativity doesn’t separate them from everyday life—it helps them engage with it more deeply.
That’s the invitation waiting for all of us – to simply begin noticing:
- the colors that make you pause
- the places that make you breathe a little deeper
- the books you don’t want to put down
- the music that changes your mood
- the garden you’ve been meaning to plant
- the camera collecting dust on a shelf
- the box of paints you’ve been saving for the “right time”
- the small moments that leave you feeling just a little more alive
Those moments matter.
They shape how we move through our days. They remind us to slow down, to become curious again, and to see beauty where we might have otherwise hurried past. Over time, they help us build a life that doesn’t require constant escape because we’ve learned to find restoration in the ordinary.
As you turn the pages of Escape, I hope you’ll do more than admire the artwork. I hope you’ll listen to the conversations unfolding between these artists. I hope you’ll recognize pieces of your own story in theirs. And perhaps, somewhere along the way, you’ll discover a new doorway into creativity, or rediscover one you left behind years ago.
Because that’s what this volume is really about. It’s not about leaving home. It’s about returning to yourself.
It’s about finding wonder in familiar places, joy in everyday moments, and inspiration in the stories of people who have chosen to slow down long enough to notice.
Thank you for spending time with us. Whether this is your first volume of The Turquoise Iris Journal or one of many you’ve welcomed into your home, we’re grateful you’re here.
Now, settle in with a cup of coffee or tea, turn the page, and meet the remarkable artists who have shaped Volume 24: Escape.
We hope their stories stay with you long after you’ve finished reading, not because they’ll inspire you to become someone else, but because they’ll gently remind you of who you’ve been all along.
