Alas
A modern fable on learning to let go...
Once upon a time a color crazed creature spent six years creating daily watercolor studies logging life and landscape in every hue and season. The practice, posted on social media, was initially created to meet an online challenge, but over time COLOR, one of nature’s most powerful ways of capturing the attention of all living creatures, worked its magic and an community of other color crazed creatures gathered around my simple digital hearth.
Through good days and not-so-good days the practice continued. Our color creature’s stack of colors grew, testament to a growing awareness of the natural world and a ripening discipline to show up through all of life’s ups and downs. She learned to savor the highs when colors sang and connections clicked, as well as navigate doldrums, days of muddy color and tedium.
Over time the colors grew into a community of like-minded creatures willing to slow down and pay attention. Life was colorful, productive, and full. Then, at the height of spring 2024, hackers struck and more than two thousand daily colors and observations vanished, pitching our color creature into a very dark place.
As you may have already guessed, I am the color creature. At first, I doubled down, grasping at efforts to regain my content and restore a robust following that allowed me to turn my love for color into a modest revenue stream: a book deal, online sales, exciting illustration projects, in-person workshops, and online classes.
Alas, an apt word for this modern fable, it wasn’t to be.
I’ve spent nearly 9 months thrashing through the debris of this sudden and unexpected loss. I’d love to say my dreams have gestated into the next reality, but life isn’t that tidy. Over a Solstice bonfire I burned a few of my colors, purging the dark and sending a prayer for clarification up to the heavens.
I still don’t know what I don’t know and maybe that’s my truth to learn. I’m done chasing ephemeral engagement dictated by algorithms that seem designed to disrupt connection. In a year of hard truths, I have come to appreciate and cherish my Substack community that invites me into their precious life, that chooses to slow down and spend some time with me exploring the abundance and generosity of nature. In 2025 I want to find ways to reciprocate, to learn more about your days, your colors, and your dreams.
I know that if I keep my eyes open, I will never run out of color. And with that vow, today I’m releasing the losses of 2024 and opening my heart to the next lifting wave of wonder and awe held in the coming days. I am so very, very glad you’re here.
xo Lorene
In-Person Workshop
Kick off 2025 with a dazzling 2-part workshop at the Barn Marché at Faraway Flower Farm. We’ll spend hands-on time creating a nature-based color study, enjoying a lovely lunch, and potting up Sonatini amaryllis. All materials, including a copy of my book, Color In and Out of the Garden, are included. No prior watercolor experience needed.
Saturday, January 11, 2025 from 11 am to 3 pm
The Barn Marche
Letting go is as much a daily practice as are your color studies. I, too, have come to recognize that chasing engagement in an environment ruled by algorithms is a fool's game. Keep making your art, living your truth, and sharing yourself in whatever way best serves you. Your community will find you and will gather around to support you. New doors will continue to open. Walk through them..
Wishing you all the best in the year to come.
I savor your substack with my morning coffee, and appreciate it so much. Yes, I love instagram too, I am so sorry that your content was taken. That is a loss. Thank you for sharing the good, the bad, and the color.