Dear friends,

​It's easy to breeze through milestones without pausing. If you're like me, a new goal is ready to go as soon as an old one is completed. My March release parties are one way for me to pause and reflect on my growth as both an artist and a store owner. March also happens to be our store's anniversary month. These events gather many supporters of MEW + Co who have witnessed so many changes and improvements. It would be wrong to never celebrate together!

​Then there's the spotlight. I tend to hide behind the work and I never want to brag (I'm always humbled soon after). Yet I am proud to share what I love to do with you. You all have inspired me to dig deeper. I pay close attention to which pieces connect and which do not. This informs my practice and study. I work for myself and for you. Thank you for being with me on the journey.

All the best,

Mary

Dear friends,

I have never heard a single complaint about rain since I moved to New Mexico in 2016. There is a palpable respect for water in the Southwest that I did not know while growing up in West Virginia. That is not to say we didn’t appreciate the stream in our backyard (which my siblings and I dammed to make a pond), playing in the rain, or biking along the Potomac river. But there was such a thing as too much rain. 

Not so here. All rain seems welcome, an answer to someone’s prayer. It is this appreciation that has inspired a new collection of watercolors, which I will release on March 9th (details to follow in February). The calm of water draws me in, whether small, like on my palette in my studio; large, like the flooding of a pecan orchard; or immense, like the Gulf of Mexico.

Conveying this in watercolor has taught me new methods and widened my scope. I can’t wait to share it with you! 

All the best,

Mary

Dear friends,

“So Mom, you just buy and sell things for work,” my (then) 9 year old son once told me. While I knew he was correct, I cringed and didn't want to answer yes. MEW & Company always meant more to me than buying and selling; I saw it as a creative endeavor. Through this little Art Print Club, I have recently shared reflections on what it means to be creative. Artisans can take an everyday item and lift it to a near spiritual level. They infuse it with beauty and reject the “throw away” mentality. When we support an artisan we are not only supporting someone who found their life’s vocation, but we are bringing more beauty into our own sphere and loving into our world. It is a form of deep respect for others and ourselves. ​Many of us have lost touch with our own creativity. In my life, it is my dream to find a balance between creating things myself and supporting other artisans, while inspiring others to have the courage to create too. There is a deep joy and pride in taking raw materials, whether they be food ingredients, art supplies, or even grass and making it greater than the sum of its parts.

​Take chances, make mistakes, get messy! - Ms. Frizzle

With love,

Mary

Dear friends

Having a direction in life is everything. For those who know where they are going, the inevitable ups and downs don’t bother them much. This has been my struggle over the past several years as an artist: I didn’t know where I was headed.

You know the feeling, a sinking sensation when you realize your skills are tapped out, and you're unsure where to turn. For me this meant realizing that I lacked the ability to express what I could see in my head and feel in my heart onto the paper. And then I was rescued…

…by a band of Frenchmen.

Renoir, Manet, Degas and Monet, to be specific. Though I love folk art and botanical illustrations, they are the cream and sugar, not the coffee of my art style. But the impressionists brew a robust, smooth, and complex coffee which I will never go without (very much like my morning coffee).

It is difficult to put art into words, so I will summarize by saying: after years of study and practice, I want you to see my newest collection called “Scenes of New Mexico.” I will send more details about it along with next month’s art print. For now, just mark your calendars for March 10th, 2024.

All the best,

Mary

Dear friends,

I have long admired vintage botanical illustrations. There is a little artistic flair along with realism that I find so beautiful and pleasing to the eye. Earlier this year I thought it would be fun to step away from loose florals and dive back into creating more realistic illustrations with a focus on what lives and grows here. Something that captured me from my very first visit to the area is how colorful the desert is! I see it on a large scale; in the actual dirt and rocks, the big picture. But more so in the little details: the roadside weeds, the rock lichen, the birds and even the bugs. Everything blooms and those blooms are vibrant! What a feast for the eyes. The differences between the East and West have been a source of self-reflection.

Coming from the green state of West Virginia, I was enveloped in layers of green and pastels. The flowers there are soft and light and add little "rests'' in the soothing symphony of green. But here! My goodness, it's like one of Mozart's more energetic and lively pieces. The colors are cymbal crashes. Purples, deep yellows, neon greens, corral, hot pinks, and vermilion that almost glows. In these two very different eco-regions, the colors seem symbolic of the way of life. The East being more fertile, where the plants are more "easy-going" and not really fighting to survive. They live a soft, cushy life. The desert has a tougher skin; it thrives on living frugally but does so in a big way. When it gets a little rain, and a little sustenance, it goes all out and bursts with color!

What is really fascinating is that plants in either area couldn't thrive if they were moved to the opposite's zone. The cactus needs the heat, the pressure, so it doesn't rot at the core. I wonder if people are similar. There are environments that we thrive in and ones that would rot us to the core or suck the life from our veins until we were mere skeletons of ourselves. This causes me to pause and reflect on the decisions I've made throughout my life. I wonder if what had seemed like juvenile and rash decisions at times was more of deep "knowing" that I wouldn't survive in the environment I was in. Even when that environment was soft and loving.

I certainly wouldn't be the same person if I hadn't married young (19), had a baby young (20), moved all over the country within a short period of time, and pursued my dreams with a fire that was unquenchable. Each of these decisions have acted as a support or fertilizer to my better qualities. My husband Alexander has always been my biggest supporter and cheerleader. I don't believe I would've had the courage to pursue art full-time without him. When little Calvin came along and this small person lit a fire in me to take my art seriously and take steps to turn it into a real business. And with our first big move to Austin, TX, we were like fish out of water. We were in over our heads and didn't have the safety net or support of family close by. This marked the beginning of a mentality shift that I could be confident and knowledgeable in the work I did. (Even if that was working at Ihop)

This shift has been a slow evolution with each place we've moved. The stakes were higher, the climate more severe. By the time we moved to Las Cruces and opened the shop, I was stretching my physical and mental stamina to the max. And honestly, there were times where the only option was to survive. All of these decisions combatted my tendencies towards shyness, self-doubt, and laziness.

I was asked recently if I was extroverted. My knee-jerk response was "no, I'm an introvert." In my scripted brain I was still the girl in the corner burying her head in her sketchbook wanting to be around people but being too shy to talk to anyone. It hit me this week that the script has changed. I still bring a sketchbook with me almost everywhere I go and still do enjoy being around people, not talking to them; just enjoying the company. But now I can hold a conversation with a stranger without anxiety and share my excitement over my work without feeling embarrassed. Basically, I am a cactus. I needed to get in the right soil to grow.

With love,

Mary

Dear friends,

“You may not draw, paint, sculpt, sew, knit, sing, dance, or act, but baking a cake could be as much a work of art as choreographing a ballet, if you approach it with as much dedication.”

Sarah Ban Breathnach, author of Simple Abundance

A phrase I have heard countless times is that “I don’t have a creative bone in my body.” I feel this is believed because many assume that being creative is what you do. But what if I told you being creative is about how, not what. Humans are creative; we create to make tomorrow better. It is not confined to the arts. Creativity is within each of us. It is a part of everyone, a thread of commonality throughout humanity. The illusion lies in the source of creativity. It’s not a bone in our body, but the exercise of our minds. It becomes better with use.

Being creative in our own way manifests itself in all areas of life and makes us more of our true selves. It’s the way we set up a desk to be prettier to look at and easier to use or a clever compromise with a toddler to let you wash their hair. It allows us to view our surroundings as material that can be worked with and appreciated, giving new life to what we already possess.

There is not a single approach to living creatively, but I find that it helps to start small.

Let's create together,

Mary

Dear friends,

No-one loves like a mom. The sacrifices required to bring children into the world are
personal to every mother and a mystery to all those who have not experienced it. But
giving and receiving motherly love is for everyone. Arms-wide-open compassion and
acceptance carries us through life’s challenges. At some point, all of us need to tell
someone and be told by someone that it’s all going to be okay. Who we view as being a
“mother” to us is not always defined by being born from them. The potential of motherhood
and motherly love is carried within every woman. It is our special gift.

I am the youngest of eight children and while my mom did not often have much extra time
in the day, she would always make time to be there for me. Wether it was to beat me at
checkers (with immense pride, I occasionally won) sit on the steps to talk things over, or just
include me in her work. I try hard to emulate this with my own children. Though no one
can replace my mom, I have known and been guided by some incredible woman who have
shown such support and encouragement in my dreams.

Whether as the giver or receiver, I hope that you experience unconditional,
motherly love this coming mother’s day.

With love,

Mary