There’s a quiet magic to the world when the new year begins. After the whirlwind of the holidays and autumn’s ceaseless energy, January feels like stepping into a calm, reflective space. The air is sharp and cool, the days are brief, and everything seems to slow down—like nature itself is pausing for a deep, steady breath.For me, this calm is an essential reset as an artist.

The rush of fall collections and holiday orders can be overwhelming, so January becomes my retreat—a time to reflect on what I’ve accomplished and dream about what’s next. It’s when I allow myself to learn and explore: signing up for classes, experimenting with techniques I’ve been curious about, or testing new ideas that might shape my work in unexpected ways. There’s a quiet energy in this season that nudges me: Now’s the time to recharge.

Especially with a rush of winter market shows behind me.

Of course, living in the Pacific Northwest means January isn’t all peaceful introspection—it’s also grey, often relentlessly so. Weeks of drizzle and thick clouds can wear on me, and it’s easy to feel a little stir-crazy. But I’ve learned to appreciate what those overcast days offer. The early sunsets pull me indoors, where the coziness of the season gives me space to breathe. Instead of pining for sunshine, I dive into sketchbooks, let myself dream about future collections, and revisit gemstones I might have overlooked during busier months. It’s a slower rhythm, but one that opens the door to deeper creativity—a chance to really tune into my thoughts and ideas in ways that the rush of summer doesn’t allow.

Winter, after all, is nature’s time to rest and prepare. Animals hibernate, plants go dormant, and the land seems to murmur: Be patient. Something new is coming. It’s a beautiful metaphor for my own creative process. Last year’s projects and challenges have had their moment, and now it’s time to retreat, reflect, and nurture what’s next. Like seeds waiting beneath the frost, my ideas feel protected in this quieter season, slowly gaining strength until the time is right to emerge.

I love how this cycle reminds me that creativity isn’t meant to flow constantly. It’s seasonal, just like the world around us. January’s stillness lets all the fragments of inspiration—snippets of stories, patterns from nature, sketches of new designs—settle and start to grow. I might not see the finished pieces yet, but I trust that these quiet moments are where the best work begins.

So as the days remain short and the world moves more slowly, I’m learning to value the pause. Winter may lack the energy of a bright summer day, but it offers something unique: the chance to renew. This season of stillness reminds me that rest is not just important—it’s essential. And in these hushed, grey January days, I’m planting the seeds for what’s to come, trusting in the beauty that will grow.

Until Next Time,

⟡ Katie