Last month, I set out with every intention of beginning a new series inspired by winter. I loved the concept, the colors, and some of the pieces I started—especially the small pastel landscapes that began to take shape. But then… everything came to a screeching halt. Years of experience have taught me that when that happens, resistance is probably the culprit. But this time, it wasn't resistance.
It was tulips!
Yes, you read that right. Tulips! I was utterly gobsmacked by Tulipmania—and there was no stopping it.
So I gave in.
I bought armloads of tulips from a local flower farmer near Ann Arbor (she has a greenhouse—a perfect antidote to our frozen landscape). I picked up every color I could find: pink, magenta, yellow, deep orange, violet, and dark purple. Really, who could blame me - it is the middle of March in Michigan! That big, glorious bouquet became the spark I didn't know I needed.
First, the tulips led me to create a few fun abstract floral lessons for The Artist Collective - my art membership. I held onto that tiny thread of inspiration enough to keep me moving forward.
Now, let me pause here to say—I was thoroughly infatuated with tulips, to the point where I probably needed a tulip intervention. But, the paintings from the winter series were still in the studio, waiting for me to return to work. Was I abandoning it? Well… yeah, kind of. And was I okay with that? Absolutely! I reminded myself of that classic artist mantra: every piece you make leads to the next.
Perfect! Permission granted. Now—back to the tulips!
And just in case you were wondering—yes, Tulipmania was a real thing. A full-blown phenomenon in 17th-century Holland. A perfect historical echo of what I've been experiencing.
Once I fully embraced the tulips, I began photographing and filming them in the style of the Dutch Masters—deep, shadowy backgrounds with the blooms emerging into the light. There's something timeless about that contrast, and it felt like the perfect way to honor their elegance and drama.
As a side note, photographing my subjects is vital to my creative process. It gives me a direct, personal connection to the subject, resulting in my interpretation of the form, color, and mood. It becomes a primary source of inspiration and helps me experience the subject in a way I never could through someone else's photography. We all see the world differently—and that unique perspective breathes life into our art.
I wanted to keep the momentum going, so I reworked my inspiration wall. I filled it with photographs, bits of fabric, sketches, and a few copies of paintings by one of my favorite Dutch artists, Rachel Ruysch.
After spending a few weeks buying tulips, photographing them, and filming every delicate detail, it was finally time to make art. But how does that begin?
For me, it usually starts with a few key decisions—what surfaces do I want to work on? Canvas, paper… maybe both? Then I think about materials and color. This time, I've chosen acrylics, inks, and pastels, each offering energy and movement. I wanted to capture that rush of excitement, that wonderful spark I felt about the tulips—bold, vibrant, and unapologetically alive.
I didn't just want to paint the flowers—I wanted to paint the feeling.
Honestly, I find abstract painting both difficult and a little intimidating. Maybe it’s because it’s the art of expressing what can’t be seen—a feeling, a memory, a mood. It’s not about replicating what’s in front of you; it’s about using the medium to translate something internal onto the canvas. But when it all comes together, it’s incredibly exciting.
If you're curious to see where this tulip-infused mania has led, I’ve created a short film capturing glimpses of three evolving works, juxtaposed against the floral still life I made inspired by Rachel Ruysch's glorious paintings. It's a glimpse behind the scenes—a window into the messy, beautiful process of following inspiration wherever it leads.
As always, thank you for stopping by Open Studio. I hope this encourages you to lean into whatever catches your eye (or keeps you up at night!) and trust that it's all part of the journey.
Whether tulips, winter landscapes, or something entirely unexpected, every detour has something to teach us.
Until next time,,,
love, Renée
P.S. I want to thank my lovely friend, Cara Cummings for helping me film the floral still life. She is an uber-talented botanical artist, photographer, and gardner. I highly recommend her Substack. https://www.carasgarden.com/
Oh the joy! Renee you never ever disappoint and simply seem to be getting better and better with your origial floral arrangements and artwork. With the world outside, beyond my home and property, you are the perfect respite for this woman. A heartfelt thank you.
Now to go back and s l o w l y re-read and enjoy every nuance of this entry. Be well and continue doing what you do so well.
Renee, this is beauty beyond words. Thank you for taking me on your journey to see the beauty in tulips differently. This is an inspiring way to start weekend that here in Wisconsin is predicting freeze rain and power outages. I must now run out to buy some tulips. To touch them! To embrace their fragrance! Oh how I long for spring.