A few years ago I was going through the worst time in my life. My baby died at birth, and after that, I had a few miscarriages. To be precise: four. Four miscarriages.

Besides that, I was a new mom raising my first daughter, an opinionated toddler who didn't nap and was highly allergic to multiple food groups. I was physically exhausted due to the multiple pregnancies and losses.  I was traumatized just by walking in the doctor's office, and ultrasound rooms became the locations of nightmares.

And to top it off, I had decided to quit my lifelong professional art career due to not feeling connected to an audience.

I was truly at the lowest and most disorienting time of my life.  

I hadn't stopped painting though.  I found that when I painted patterns in watercolor, I got a little break from my grief.  It was meditative, restorative, and engrossing. ( I recently gave a Tedx talk on the process of  finding flow in grief that describes this process in detail.)

In the midst of all this, for fun I rigged up my camera to film the process of a watercolor pattern painting. I had an Instagram account consisting of my immediate friends and family, and I posted my simple, 40 second time lapse video.  It got 30,000 views.  Stunned, I posted another one, and the same thing happened. 

Since I was painting daily, I posted daily, and my social media accounts grew rapidly.  However, for me the paintings weren't "art"--they were journals.  They were lifelines. I didn't think I would ever sell them, exhibit them, or regard them as Important Fine Art.  (I now question what Important Fine Art even is, but that’s another conversation.)

It was the process that was important for me, not the product. I still thought my art career was finished.

And then one day I got a DM.

 "I’m Sara, I’m 17. A few years ago I was in a car accident and I lost both my legs. I’ve been really sad and depressed trying to get used to this new life. I started watching your videos and I read your story. I asked my mom to buy me some watercolors. I’ve been making my own paintings and it’s really helped my depression. It's giving me a lot of hope for the future. Thank you. Love, Sara."

And let me tell you, everything changed.

Not only did I hear from Sara, but I heard from hundreds and thousands of others. People told me my work was giving them courage to make their own work.

Those messages totally re-framed my vision of my life calling.  I had always known I was creative, artsy, and loved process and color.  But the feedback I was getting through social media taught me that though art making is centrally important to me and my mental health, inspiring others to pursue their own creativity is my calling.

The reason I'm on social media, the reason I’m writing this blog, and the reason I still film my art process is because I have witnessed the power of extending creative inspiration. It’s not about an inert object (art) someone can buy and put in their house (although it’s great to own art, just saying). It’s about an extension and transmission of creative ACTION.

If my work sparks you to make your own thing, I am 100% successful.

The power of creative energy is a great mystery,  but it is real and alive. It is healing and rewarding, and it does bring hope.

The more the situation sucks, the more creative power can rise.

My advice to the art curious: start small, start easy, start cheap! That's my new motto that I just made up, but it’s a good one. Don’t overcomplicated things.

Please let me know your experience with art and loss in the comments below! I’d love to hear all about it.

Love, Josie

If you want to know more about flow, go to www.josielewis.com/creativeflow to watch my tedx talk and enroll in a free email course about Creative Flow.