One Year In: My First Year as a Professional Artist

This weekend, I stood inside a booth filled with my paintings at the Berryessa Art Festival alongside East Valley Artists. These works that once existed quietly in my studio were out in the world, being seen, felt, and welcomed into people’s homes. It felt surreal. And it felt like the perfect way to mark exactly one year since I got my business license and decided to take my art seriously.

I remember that day vividly. That small piece of paper felt both exciting and terrifying. I didn’t have everything figured out. I didn’t even know if I could call myself an artist. I had sold my first piece in India at sixteen, art has lived in me for decades, but somewhere along the way, I had convinced myself that “professional artist” was a title for someone else. Someone more qualified, more established, more… something. Getting that license was me finally deciding to stop waiting to feel ready and just begin.

One year later, I’m sitting down to document what this year actually was. Because I want to remember all of it. Over the past year, I have painted through uncertainty, self-doubt, growth, and discovery. I’ve learned how vulnerable it feels to share your work publicly, and how healing it can be to keep creating anyway. Art became more than just something I loved doing. It became a way of understanding myself, a way of processing emotions, memories, landscapes, and the quiet inner world I often struggle to put into words.

What has touched me most this year is the people. Fellow artists and creatives, organizers, volunteers, friends who showed up, strangers who paused in front of my paintings and shared what they felt. People who generously gave their knowledge, their time, their stories. These conversations and connections are the richest part of this year, and I don’t want to forget a single one.

I built things I’m proud of, a newsletter, a website, this very blog, a studio space rearranged approximately a million times in pursuit of the perfect layout (still searching, zero regrets). I set up and launched a small woman-led business. Along with it came all the wonderful complexity: marketing, strategy, systems, slow and exciting discovery that solopreneurship means learning absolutely everything from scratch.

And the learning curve was real. I applied to opportunities, exhibited in a group show, received a grant, got accepted to a show and a project for the coming year, and completed my first commission. I came in not knowing the difference between a curated show and a juried show, never having attended a reception or an artist talk. This year, I started to understand what these things actually mean by observing, attending, volunteering, and asking questions. I worked with GenArts and got to see firsthand what goes into organizing a show. I volunteered with Art Docents and learned the fundamentals of art in a way that quietly deepened my own practice. I painted a whole collection inspired by my walks and hikes.

I also learned how to hold it all together, and I want to document this honestly, because it was hard. Building a consistent creative practice while being a full-time parent is genuinely one of the more challenging things I’ve taken on. There were weeks when plans had to flex, when family came first, and the studio had to wait. But I kept coming back. I built real structure, discipline, and systems that I’m proud of. I spent a lot of energy early on searching for the blueprint, the correct path, the way it’s all supposed to look. The freedom came when I stopped looking outward for a template and started building my own.

One year in. One year of learning, connecting, painting, and growing into an identity I’ve been carrying quietly for a long time. And this weekend, standing at that festival booth watching my work find its people, I felt it all come together. The community has been generous. The growth has been immense. The art keeps getting better. And I couldn’t be prouder of what this year has been.

Here’s to year two and to documenting and celebrating every bit of it. 🎉