How a Collection Begins: The Slow Formation of an Idea
Collections rarely arrive fully formed for me. Most often, they start as a whisper—a single image, a fleeting impression, or a message that refuses to leave my mind. I remember one piece that started simply as a ray of light coming through a cloud. That tiny spark wouldn’t let me go, and it became the seed of a whole series.
Once an idea appears, I let it percolate over time. One image naturally flows into another. I might ask myself: What if I told this story from a different perspective? How can I revisit this concept with a new emphasis? Each piece, each impression, is an invitation to explore, layer, and expand. Over weeks or months, these individual ideas begin to interact, resonate, and reveal subtle threads that eventually suggest a collection.
Collections arrive as symbols rather than statements. I’ve learned that if I try to define them too early, the magic disappears. I give them space to grow, to shift, and to evolve. Sometimes the first few pieces feel disconnected, and the connections are invisible to anyone, including me.
But I trust the process. I observe, I take notes, I respond intuitively. I notice recurring imagery, persistent themes, and the energy that keeps returning. I spend time in prayer,meditating and journaling on the idea, asking the Holy Spirit wisdom, revelation and guidance on what He is trying to say. I wait and I listen.
This quiet, slow incubation is essential. It allows the work to breathe, the ideas to settle, and the symbolism to emerge naturally. Sometimes an image comes after a dream or a quiet moment of prayer or meditation. I don’t plan it—I just notice it, and then I follow it wherever it wants to go. My previous blog on how I turn my dreams into art dives deeper into this process, but at the collection level, the same principles apply: I start with a single vision and allow time and observation to reveal the patterns, relationships, and narrative arcs.
By giving a collection the space to reveal itself over time, I ensure it resonates authentically—both with me and with those who encounter the work. The beginnings of a collection are where intuition meets intention, where the subconscious speaks, and where the magic quietly begins. Each emerging piece carries a whisper of my own experiences, values, and worldview.
Every collection I begin is a reflection of how I engage with life—patiently, intuitively, and attentively. The quiet, slow formation of an idea is the foundation for everything that comes after, and it’s where I first learn to listen—not only to my art, but to the world, the Holy Spirit, and the inspiration that guides me. And that is what makes the work alive, for me and for anyone who encounters it.
