Why Gathering to Create Still Matters
this lovely group of women with their creations
For tens of thousands of years, women have gathered in circles, working together on shared crafts—needlework, bread making, floral arranging, weaving, and more. In earlier times, many of these crafts were tied directly to survival: clothing for winter, food for the table. Yet beyond necessity, the act of creating and communing was always present. Today, most of our survival needs are met through industry, and our daily efforts often fall under the umbrella of capitalism—make money, spend money.
Still, the need to create and to collaborate runs through us. Craft circles exist but often must be sought out: a needlepoint group, a sourdough class, a floral arranging workshop, or an evening of painting. Last weekend I had the honor of facilitating a watercolor class for a group of mothers gathered in a circle among flowers and trees. By the end, each of us felt more ourselves—rested, renewed, and deeply connected.
The truth is, modern life doesn’t leave much room for this kind of slowing down. The average Western woman moves through a rhythm of constant hustle, whether she works outside the home or not. Even those who stay home with their children often find their days consumed by a parallel pace—sports, music lessons, homework, playdates, appointments, check-ups. The modern woman, especially the modern mother, is always on call, her plate full, her attention pulled in every direction. With so much to carry, how can she find the bandwidth to sit down and create?
This is where painting offers a powerful invitation. Working with watercolor—or any fluid medium such as gouache, ink, or acrylic—demands a slowing of the hand and the mind. The addition of water requires softness, patience, and presence. When the brush meets the paper, the dance of color asks for full attention, yet also grants the mind permission to breathe. There are no “to-dos” or “must-haves.” There is only the paint, the subject, the brush, and the page. And when surrounded by others in this same flow, something unexplainable begins to happen.
Time softens. Beauty rises above pain. Laughter replaces worry. Presence quiets anxiety. In this flow of creativity, friendship, and beauty, we bring forth something entirely new—at odds with the constant message that the only way to make or achieve is by pushing harder. But creation need not always be born of force. There is another way, one that honors our humanity.
artists soft at work
Cultivating these circles, which for me began as simple painting workshops, has become one of my greatest honors. And though I have spoken much about women and mothers here, the truth is that all people share this same need for creative expression, beauty, joy, and connection. It lives within us all. If something in these words stirs a knowing in you and you’d like to host a painting circle, please reach out. And if you’re in Southern California, I have two upcoming classes open to everyone—you can find details here.