Going live isn’t “just pointing a camera at the easel.” It rewires how time feels. Someone might be watching; chat might ping. The work is still yours, but the room gets thinner—less private, more porous.

Performance versus process

I’m not acting, but I’m aware. That awareness can sharpen decisions (“don’t waste their time with fussing”) or tempt cosmetic moves (“make it look busy”). I try to treat the stream as documentation of real work, even when I’m slower than entertainment norms expect.

Community in the margins

Chat can be surprisingly generous—tips, jokes, people who’ve never seen paint mixed in person. It can also be noisy. Moderation and boundaries aren’t rude; they’re how the studio stays safe for making.

What stays offline

Some pieces or techniques need silence. Some days I’m not fit for public. Live is a tool, not a moral obligation. The archive on this site and the gallery will keep growing whether the red “live” light is on or not.

When I’m broadcasting, you’ll find me on the Live page—pull up a chair.