You bloom in spring

my studio wall for my mother because she likes it

Spring has sprung! The light in the studio has been calling me. Even if I just sit and stare out the window or organise my materials, it's a better day. I love touching all the things - twine, hanging wires, screws, pencils, scissors, and all my various tools. I enjoy putting like with like and lining them up in order. I find it very satisfying. I found an Ikea peg board for £3 at a charity shop recently and was then able to source some 3-D printed hooks on Vinted very affordably that fit it. Good value and making things come together fills me with joy. The studio provides ample opportunity for this.

I hate tape but I have loads of it

This week I went through my painting rack and found at least nine canvases that I have decided no longer work. I asked a fellow painter to look over them as well to make sure I wasn't making any "rash decisions." I wrote that "one canvas might have a Lynchian promise, but many just feel unfinished - like forced thoughts that didn't materialise." I think they are all getting painted over and any photos of them removed from my archive. I haven't painted over anything in years - but now is the time again. Canvases don't grow on trees and I know I can paint something better or perhaps more meaningful than what is there currently.

I have been walking more this week and taking photos while enjoying the flowers and blooming trees. I also planted my garden - carrots, beets, radish, potatoes, onions, scallions, cabbage, broccoli, courgette, and loads of flowers. It's always a bit of an experiment. I don't worry about it much - I just see what works and what doesn't - no stress. Last year I was delighted with my potatoes and spinach. It's always a creative practice in my square foot garden. I'll keep you updated.

Yesterday, I had the unique opportunity of helping a friend and fellow artist deliver his and his partner's work to a prestigious exhibition. I really enjoyed the experience. It reminded me how comfortable I am around art - handling it with care and wanting it to look its best. Seeing all the work being unloaded from crates and packages in the gorgeous gallery space was a thrill and a comfort, and also a lot of work! It's a good feeling to be able to help someone and I got a lot out of it too. The experience reminded me of where I feel I belong and this is helpful so that I can compare it to the experiences where I feel I don't.

Princes street gardens

Later in the day, I met up with another artist and we enjoyed the sunshine in Princes Street Gardens which is bursting with Spring beauty. We had an important and good chat about art and life and made plans for an art adventure next week.

And on this gorgeous day, that's all I have for you. This post has been brought to you by the sun, a homemade blueberry Matcha, and one song on repeat.

Thanks for being here and please keep fighting for comfort and joy, for all.

Watching the light

Another place in time

Dear Reader, 

I hope the sun is shining where you are and that you are well and happy. I guess I enjoyed the community so much last week, that I caught the community cold. I have been resting, researching, and doing nothing at all and it has been much needed. I wish I didn't have to get sick or have a migraine for my body and brain to understand how important deep rest is. 

Going forward I must prioritise this. Without rest and self preservation, there is nothing. 

Take care until next week and thank you for being here. 

- Megan 

Make the time

After last week's celebrations. It was back to work with good amounts of rain, wind, and strong bursts of sun. I tracked the light as it danced around the flat. I also developed a photographic relationship with an Amaryllis as it came into bloom. 

I wrote in my journal on the 11th of March:

There is potential in all of us under the right conditions and if we are shown care and patience. 

I have had this Amaryllis bulb since late November (with the idea of forcing it for Christmas). Even after following the directions on the box there remained no life. I was about to give up on it, thinking it was a dud.

Inspired by seeing my mother's blooming Amaryllis over our video calls, I decided to try a few different tactics to encourage it to thrive. Low and behold it started springing to life in February and now it has bloomed. It is outrageously beautiful. 

Sometimes the rules/directions need breaking or changing because they don't apply to the subject. We can gently persevere with patience and care. We can ask what is needed. This Amaryllis needed extra support and it needed more time - it would not be forced.

The flower is an oracle and teacher. 
Make time to listen. 
_______________

The world is a mess and I am glad you are here, sharing your gifts. Take care until next week.

Squarely in the now

work in progress 2026

Happy New Year!

I am sitting at my work table in the studio to write this. I am looking out of the windows to the sky. The sun is casting shadows on the buildings around me. I see planes flying into the city over the Forth, I telepathically welcome them. Seagulls gather on roof tops. I am surrounded by my paint, pencils, charcoal, pastels and brushes. All of my available art from the last 11 years is in one place and under the same roof as me and that feels good. 

I worked yesterday and today in my studio - filled with the "begin the year as you mean to go on" spirit. Filling the pages of an old photo album with mark making and collage. Collage has always been foundational to my work, even though I don't like getting glue on my fingers. It's a good starting point.

We've made it through the holidays, the first without my dad. There are many people missing - loss seems to cling to the years but we carry on.

I don't really want to write a year end review blog for 2025. Maybe this is why. The thought of it seems heavy and complicated.

So, I make another cup of tea, plug in my sunshine lamp, eat some dark chocolate and play music on my big headphones instead.

I will get around to the year end review post eventually (because I am a creature of habit and superstition) but not today. I will write it when I am ready -  that's how I work, I move slow and then I move fast. 

I have been thinking about what I want my art to say and mean in 2026. I don't usually think like that as it seems a bit prescriptive but I thought it could be a good exercise. I usually make art as a necessary exorcism or as a reaction to outside forces.

A pal sends a message: the sun is out and it would be good to get out and away from the screen. I leave my blog and make a mad dash out the door.

It was very cold but bright out. We had mediocre coffee in a dark and divey cafe but we had some top notch laughs. I also noticed bunches of somewhat sad daffodils for sale in the shops - it's too soon, but it is good to remember spring is around the corner. I took photos of the shadows. 

Sunshine on number 55

Once back home, I noticed that there was still a good amount of light left at 4pm. 

Now, I can hear the wild wind outside playing my bamboo chimes, and this is where I am going to leave you on this first Friday of January 2026 - squarely in the now. 

With peace and gratitude from my wintering heart to yours. 

Leith must be the place

From the window of Custom House Leith

Hello Dear Readers, 

I hope December finds you well and cosy. This post practically wrote itself last Saturday. When I left you last week, I mentioned I was going to meet Julia to explore the Leith Creative Trail and that is what we did. 

Julia and I met in front of the Leith Library at 11am and we wandered the streets all day in search of everything the artists and makers of Leith had on offer. It was a full day of adventure, beauty, and community. Leith is definitely the place. 

We visited the following fantastic Leith venues:

Art Glass Studio 34 / SilverHub Studios / Mote 102 / Ground Floor EHFM / Coburg House / Cyan Clayworks / Custom House / Brown’s of Leith / Away Industries / Populus Cafe / Bethany Shop / Leith Makers Open Studios & MULCH:Collective Exhibition / Sebs Urban Jungle Winter Makers Market The excitement continues this weekend so do check the trail guide for all the details.

Happiness is a blue wall

While we were out walking the Creative Trail, Julia spied this blue wall and thought it would make an ideal backdrop. I was proudly wearing my new brooch designed by Julia and happy to pose for a few photographs.

I am lucky to have a friend that I feel so comfortable around and who has a great sense of colour. I really don't like having my picture taken so it says a lot about the photographer when I look this relaxed. Her brooch made me feel like a million bucks. I do hope you will check them out. As I have said many times, colour is medicine and good friends are the best. Find your new brooch and view Julia's art here: https://julialaingstudio.com

I need to get ready to meet a pal for a Friday morning walk. There are other things going on behind the scenes of course, but more on that later. 

Wherever you are, don't let the bastards get you down. Keep fighting and shining. 
We need you and the gifts you bring. X.

Conversations and quandaries

Broughton St Mary’s church turret in autumn

Hello Dear Reader, 

Here we are again, another Friday. I hope you are okay. I am not great but at least I am not ill and I haven't had any migraines lately so that is a positive. This week was frustrating and difficult for a multitude of reasons. Even with the beauty of autumn as a backdrop - I am weary. Are we all weary now? Is this just how it is going to be? I sure hope not. 

So let's focus on the beauty and the good parts, that seems to be all I know how to do. I can be struggling and still recognise the wonders of life. 

I went for a walk with my friend Jen on Saturday and introduced her to my favourite local tree. I had been hesitant to go by and visit my scottish friend tree as I was worried it might not be there due to some recent council heavy pruning. Jen kindly accompanied me as I faced that concern and we were both delighted to see its far reaching majesty, albeit very lopsided.  

On Sunday, I met my friend Julia, for a ramble through the city centre and down into Stockbridge. We enjoyed warm drinks and chips while sitting in the window of a crowded cafe. Afterwards we went to a charity shop where I scored a wonderful scarf. We then continued down the road to see the current exhibition, Beneath the Veil at The House of Smalls. This is only the second exhibition I have seen at The House of Smalls and I have been equally impressed and deeply moved each time. If you are in Edinburgh or passing through, I would highly recommend putting this gallery on your list to visit. Amy is a friendly and helpful gallerist and has created a space with an important and commendable ethos.

chai latte with Julia before the exhibition

After meeting up with Julia, there was of course my Sunday session of painting and talking about art with my mom. I worked on the two canvases below. Just adding different washes of paint. Roughing in and wiping away the colours in layers while listening to Brian Eno and drinking tea. Not a bad way to spend some time. I like them pretty well as they are, but may continue to work on them this week. 

work in progress

work in progress

On Monday, the haar rolled in, and it seemed like the perfect time to take a walk and make some photos. I feel fortunate to have this wilderness so close. I know these trees and this patch of land so well and in return I feel known by them. I find so much support and solace in these nearby woods and the paths by the water of Leith. 

As usual, there was work and all the other bits and pieces that make a life - exercise, meditation, meals, conversations and quandaries. I am now sitting on the sofa, listening to one song on repeat and feeling grateful to have shared this Friday ritual once more with you.

May all beings have happiness and the causes of happiness. 

May all beings be free from suffering and the causes of suffering. 

May all beings rejoice in the wellbeing of others. 

May all beings live in peace, free from greed and hatred. 

Thank you for being here. Until next week, take care. 

Like a mirror to my soul

Conversations on stillness, mixed media on canvas panel © Megan Chapman

Hello Dear Readers, 

I had two paintings on the go last week that I meant to return to and work on but I started a new one instead. See above, conversations on stillness. I enjoyed working on this piece, building up the layers and textures. It was an old fashioned meditative experience (I need more of those). I was listening to Brian Eno and Nils Frahm while I worked and I think you can tell. 

On Monday, my friend Julia and I went to see Resistance: How protest shaped Britain and photography shaped protest at Modern Two. The exhibition was conceived by artist and filmmaker Steve McQueen. It was compelling to see the stark and powerful exhibition and to learn some of the stories from a century of protest. If you are local to Edinburgh or are passing through, do go see it before it closes in January. Did you know that on the First Monday of each month you can pay what you wish (minimum £2)? It's a very helpful offering for artists and arts workers on a budget. 

We also crossed the road to Modern One and I have to say even though we ran through the lower floor with haste before closing time, my heart was so happy to see some of my favourites. I don't visit Modern One near enough and it was a delight to see these old and new friends. I do think of certain artists' works as a key that opens the door to my very existence - like a mirror to my soul - there you are and there I am...

Artists such as Frankenthaler, Albers, and Morandi set my brain on fire and then we entered a room with three Agnes Martin paintings?! Oh, you can bet my heart was singing! I love Agnes Martin - she speaks the language of painting so beautifully and deeply that I could roll around in it. No bullshit. Honest. My day was made. 

Untitled #5 by Agnes Martin National Galleries of Scotland
ARTIST ROOMS National Galleries of Scotland and Tate. Acquired jointly through The d'Offay Donation with assistance from the National Heritage Memorial Fund and Art Fund, 2008  ©Estate of Agnes Martin

I even saw one of the wee Francesca Woodman photographs from the collection (the gallery has 23 of her photos). I feel very fortunate that all of this great art lives in my city. It still blows my wee Arkansas born mind at times but mostly just fills me with gratitude and genuine awe.

This weekend there will be more painting and more rest. Thank you for checking in here and spending some of your time with me. I hope you are doing okay. I know it is hard out there. Keep fighting. We need you and the gifts you bring, now more than ever. 

It's getting better

In case you missed it, you can read last week's post here.

This week I went to another stellar film offering from Duncan Place and Community Cinema. This is a powerful and deceptively quiet film - but the message is deafening. If it comes near you, see it!

I took a photo of a pigeon sunning itself on my window ledge in the evening light. Due the reflections from the window it produced an ethereal image.

At this point (well actually a few weeks back) I have stopped all the grief eating and and the sun, flowers, and trees and seeing my pals and enjoying the city's culture is really helping me to be more active and do all the things that I know make me feel happier and healthier. I am not saying it's a walk in the park, but it's getting better.

I am enjoying walking and taking photographs, sorry there hasn't been any new art on here, but rest assured there's loads of art you haven't seen yet... but more on that soon.

Sunshine on Leith

My pal Julia and I had one of our rambles again as well and enjoyed art offerings and this fabulous graveyard in Leith.

I hope you are doing well and staying strong. I know it is hard out there right now. Keep fighting. Thank you for being here.

You can read next week's post here.

Our joy is our power

Well, shit. 

There is a certain way those two words are said together in my head in an Arkansas accent that conveys a certain feeling. It might be my grandmother's voice I hear it in, or perhaps it's my fathers, or maybe it's my own. 

Well, shit...

I have been eating cookies for breakfast while avoiding the news or reading any articles. I have been checking on friends and family and gratefully focused on union work. I have been going for walks, bereft and questioning but not surprised. 

But, let's go back in time to before the shit hit the fan - I was jet lagged and hopeful and I had one more adventure in the cards before I could rest. On Monday, I caught the train through to Glasgow to see Interpol for the 8th time. 

Paul Banks of Interpol

Daniel Kessler of Interpol

I was really worn out from travelling and a recent migraine but I knew Interpol would give me more energy than getting myself over to see them would ever take. I was right. The train was smooth and easy, the venue was close to the station, and I left early enough to stop by a cafe for a light dinner before chatting to the folks working the door at the venue. I was one of ten or so early birds or super fans. They let us in the venue at 6 to wait for the stage doors to open at 7. Water was purchased, toilets were used, and all the women at the front of the line chatted with each other and laughed. We were instant friends with one shared objective, to be right in front of Paul and Daniel of Interpol. We were from countries all around the world and we spanned generations. Some of these women had just seen each other at the previous gigs in Wolverhampton and Manchester. The woman from Leeds next to me had seen them 31 times. The artist I met waiting at the door made sure I had a great spot next to her at the barricade and we traded Instagram handles and talked about witches and art. We were an instant sisterhood -  with our shared and knowing smiles, talks of ageing, the joys of gigging alone, art, small towns, cats, travel, politics, and of course Interpol. 

I was uplifted by these kindred spirits before the band even took the stage.

The opening band Dust from Australia played a fine noisy set and seemed extremely appreciative of the Glasgow audience which made me wonder how they had been received by Wolverhampton and Manchester. 

Interpol took the stage at 9:15 playing their second album Antics in its entirety, and then a set of 9 songs spanning their catalog, capping off the night with a perfect one song encore by playing PDA from Turn on the Bright Lights. The light show was intense and atmospheric and both Paul and Daniel were in fine form and seemed delighted to be there. Sadly Sam was missing as he continues to recover from spinal surgery and health issues. It was another great Interpol gig.

I hugged my new barricade mate goodbye and was out the door to catch the 11:15 train back to Edinburgh. Once returned to the city and on the bus in the wilds of Leith, another Interpol fan recognised me as they were exiting the bus, "Weren't you just at Interpol and in the front?" Aye, I was. Smiles were shared, take cares uttered and again I was embraced into the fold of humanity. The night ended as it began.

I was energised and happy to be alive. 

As I mentioned the last time I wrote about Interpol here, all you have to do is use the search feature in the top left of this blog to see how I feel about the band and what they mean to me, my life, and work. That's the power of art and music - it is truly life giving and inspiring, momentum building and community forging, identity shaping, alchemic bliss. 

The edge of a guitar note as it rings out, the turn of phrase, the gasp and crack of the voice, the bass as it moves through you and drums as they ground and transcend. There is nothing much better than that. And every time I see Interpol their music returns to me shiny and new to be discovered all over again as if for the first time.

Tears drown in the wake of delight
There's nothing like this built today
You'll never see a finer ship in your life
We sail today...

That was Monday night, then the US Election on Tuesday came and went, and like a needle being dropped on a record, Wednesday was a day of mourning and the rest of the week was a blurred hellscape. And here we are.

And I am still listening to Interpol as I walk briskly through the leaves. I still "understand the assignment" and I still stand by art, music, and community. 

Our joy is our power.

My favourite kind of beauty

I went for a walk yesterday and everywhere I looked was beautiful. Aged, decaying, and run down - my favourite kind of beauty. The light was from the past and the golden leaves, the old doors, cobbles, and wynds were singing to me. The pavements held me, and the sound of the trees in the wind cushioned my steps. 

We are holding you. We are here for you. We are with you now. 

I looked up to the sky, I looked down at my feet, step after step. I looked at the light and breathed - looked into the wind and felt, looked up again into the trees and tears met my eyes.

I hear the small birds in the morning now, not the seagulls. The swans and signets have done themselves proud, their family intact and almost grown as they glide along the water in the sun. 

I congratulate them. 

I walk on, and the leaves glisten in the water. I snap a picture. 

We are holding you. We are here for you. We are with you now.

Capture the light

Morning Sun 1952 - painting Edward Hopper

I am stuck here wordless. 

I was videoless this week as well. 

After last week's activity comes this week's pause, this week's work, and this week's riding of the wave.

But there is a beam of sunshine on my hands and there is music in the air. I had a nice lunch and good snacks. I am wearing a new (to me) crisp white oversized button-up shirt from a charity shop. I can see clouds moving quickly from my window. I have packages coming my way and a stray cat who visits me. 

It's not bad or good - it's just life. 

When we look at a painting by Hopper we don't feel too bad about things. We don't judge the space in the room or the lone woman. We like the feeling. We celebrate it. Perhaps we can celebrate those days in real life too. Or just soak up the space, the light, the feeling. Celebrate is too strong. We can just be in the space without judgment and without wanting to move on too fast. 

Autumn is good for this, the need for hibernation is starting to filter in around the edges. It's okay to put on your shoes and go for a walk or just sit still and capture the light. 

Until next week, keep fighting and then take a nap. And if you live in Scotland sign this petition.

Thank you.  

The tea tastes good

Where my soul roams
Mixed media on canvas
24x24x2cm (framed)
Megan Chapman
£325
Purchase

How can it already be the 18th of August? I lost a good 3 weeks to Covid and now the rebuilding begins. As autumn approaches new ideas come forward - I always feel like the beginning of this season is more instrumental in creating new ways of being than the new year. A holdover from "back to school" days I am sure. I want to learn, I want to grow, I want to change in the autumn - I bought a pack of new pens and I cut my hair. I have a homemade calendar page on the fridge. I am ready.

I watch good films, I read good books, I discover new music. I watch for the first leaves to fall and note the shift in the light. I make plans for the darker days on the way. 

I work, I engage, I participate and help. I plant something silver and sculptural. I make friends and I rediscover my love of photography. The tea tastes good. I am alive. 

Small gestures
Mixed media on canvas
24x24x2cm (framed)
Megan Chapman
£325 
Purchase

Without an anchor

I am still here, I didn't turn into dust. I am not sure how. I am walking for miles (my go-to coping strategy) talking, seeing friends, sleeping, resting, grieving, recovering, eating, crying, crying, crying. I talk to you as I look back into the empty rooms. I hope you will visit me in my dreams. I want you back. This is pretty fucking hard. Layers upon layers of grief. I can't move your things. 

My friends have been amazing and the flowers are blooming and the trees are leafing out. I talk to the squirrels, pigeons, and birds. I suddenly have so many bird feeders. My wee animal friends help me - stray cats roam in the garden. They are not you, but I hope they bring messages from you. I am surrounded by beauty in sadness, I am surrounded by big hearts and am aware of all the bodhisattvas that walk in our midst. All the caregivers, healers, and helpers. I try to practice compassion, my mind throws me endless curveballs. I am feeling it all and walking through it. Again I say, this is pretty fucking hard. I miss you so much, Theo. 

In other news, I learned of another loss. My friend, patron, supporter of the arts, punk rocker, photographer and all-around good guy, Peter Goodbody passed away at the end of March and with everything else going on I only just found out. 

If you bought a print or t-shirt with one of my faces on it, Peter Goodbody is the reason why. He suggested that I make them and so I followed through. I will always be grateful for his patronage, friendship, and support. He was a brilliant supporter of musicians and artists across the board. 

Peter interviewed me for his music and art website, P3DRO. I was honoured to be asked but even more thrilled with how brilliant the interview was - he asked great questions and I enjoyed being able to weave my love of music and art together. The interview felt like a special gift. I will always be thankful for Peter and all his help and support over the years. Rest in Power, my friend. You will be missed. 

Here is the interview again for those who missed it the first time or who would like to read it again. 

https://p3dro.net/2021/03/01/megan-chapman-this-is-our-family-tree-made-of-charcoal-dust/

Peter Goodbody modelling one of my shirts.

Thank you, Peter. 

Breadcrumb path to the soul

You wouldn't just let it burn

Mixed media on canvas, 71x87cm. 

Framed in white (with the painting continuing on to the frame)

2019 Megan Chapman

I sit here at my blog writing desk (this is a new thing - I now have a blog writing desk and swivel chair for my art business purposes). I have no idea what to write about but I am here on a Friday attempting to get back into this blog writing groove. Grey sky above, a cup of tea, and the cat next to me, as I look out the window. 

I am waiting for some art supplies to be delivered, nothing major just some paper and some spray fixative so I can tackle the mound of finished work that needs fixing due to my using Conte crayon pastels. The paper will hopefully be used for some new small works that I will mount - think Christmas presents. How can it already be the 20th of November!?! 

I have put on some concentration music on my headphones, I look to the sky and zone out thinking about a potential new accidental portrait I could paint. Remember those? Then my mind turns to wonder if we are all trapped 16-year-olds in ageing bodies or if that is just me. I am thinking about art related to that, but just for a split second - nothing serious. 

I have some small canvas-covered boards I could be working on - another Christmas sized item for your enjoyment and purchase. Fine art for Christmas. Thinking about all the marketing aspects -  fine artists and makers scrambling for sales, attention, new ways of being in this Instagram society. I don't think I imagined this when I graduated from art school over 21 years ago now. I was 4 years "behind" my peers after a stint of doing nothing much at all. I remember feeling so old and so young at 27 when I completed my BFA. And at 48 I still feel so old and so young, I imagine that is how it will always be. 

I take more photographs than paint these days (that's really been the case for a long time), for a split second I remember thinking about switching my major to photography from painting. That would not have made sense and I am glad I didn't and I think the two work well hand in hand. Photography helps me see, and you have to be able to see to paint. I am not talking about with functioning eyes but more with another sense. Photography allows me to see things I am too close to and feeds the information to me in another way that I can more easily digest. Listening to music, writing, and photography are my breadcrumb path to the paintings. I can't have one without the other.

Abstract paintings are the breadcrumb path to my soul and the unseen world outside and they connect me to you if they work right or if you are in the right place to see and receive them. I have cleaned my tiny workspace, I am almost ready to begin again. 

The sky is completely white and featureless, all the angles of the neighbouring houses punch into the air. The negative space loudly proclaims I am here. 

I love sitting in front of windows looking out.

We create our own systems

It's Friday and I am here. I am listening to Santigold's first album on the big headphones. I did order two lots of art supplies earlier in the week, as I said I would in my last post. I have not yet received them, so I looked around the house to see what types of supplies I could piece together in the interim. I mentioned to Edinburgh based painter and illustrator, David Schofield on Twitter that I might end up finger painting on cardboard with coffee. I am still not too inspired to paint right now, but I am following through and setting up some space and I might even work on something later today. I just need to start. Again, I don't exactly think this is the time to keep performing as if this is a normal time or just another work week in the studio. Remember, how you choose to cope or process what is happening around the world is up to you. 

I just woke up from a long nap on the sofa. The sky is flat grey, the pavements are wet, and the shower is broken. The Prime Minister and the UK's Health secretary have both tested positive for the virus. 

Thank goodness for friends, music, and art. We keep showing up for each other. My dear friend artist and musician, John Kay (I will link to his Bandcamp page once he has it set up) sent me money for supplies earlier in the week. Artist, musician, and friend, Karl Macrae made his last payments this week on one of my paintings. Another artist and dear friend, Maggie Ivy bought me a cup of coffee and then I bought a cup of coffee for textile artist, Mairi Brown. And this is how we do it. 

As artists, many of us keep passing the same money (when we have it) around to keep each other afloat and we have been doing this for years. We keep lifting each other up. We are legion and we must not forget this and somehow we must create our own systems that actually work for us. The old systems sure as hell aren't working. Let's all think about this.

In other news, I put some of my "art" photos on my ko-fi page. I also shared some of my accidental portraits over there and linked to a podcast I used to do as well. Trying to flesh out the page in thanks to those who have already supported me over there and to those that hopefully will in the future. Ko-Fi is a friendly platform to support artists. https://ko-fi.com/meganchapman If you are an artist yourself, consider setting up a page. 

I recorded my Tuesday Studio Video Visit from home and put it on my YouTube page (still very much under construction over there) but here it is again if you missed it. 



I think that is all I have for you this week. Be well, stay safe, distance, and isolate. Wash your hands. We need you and the gifts you bring. Patrons we need you more than ever. 

With love, gratitude, and hope for the world, 
Megan 

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