Finding Peace in the Christmas Chaos

Merry Christmas!

Okay, so this morning was not quiet. Christmas Day arrived loud, messy, and at full speed.

There were voices overlapping, Jingle Bell Rock playing in the background, kids constantly calculating the number of presents everyone got (to make sure it was fair). Carefully laid plans collided with messy reality, and that familiar sense of trying to be fully present while also keeping everything from tipping over. It wasn’t serene or postcard-perfect. But, it was real. That’s my family.

I’m writing this in the space after all that. The moment when the house settles, the light changes, and you can take a deep breath for the first time all day. As an artist, I’ve learned to pay attention to moments like this, because they’re often where the meaning shows up — not in the rush, but in what comes after.

In painting, I’m always looking for balance: areas of activity set against quiet, complexity softened by simplicity. Without contrast, nothing really stands out, you know? Maybe that’s true of days like today too. The noise makes the calm feel earned. The chaos makes the stillness noticeable.

This isn’t a religious blog, but art often points me toward something deeper; something spiritual: The calm that comes after the storm. The feeling of being held in a moment that doesn’t ask for effort or answers. The quiet truth that even chaotic days can settle into something tender if we let them. That is often what I end up painting (or try to anyway).

Right now, the light is softer. Shadows are longer. The room feels human again. These are the moments I return to in my work — not the dramatic high points, but the quiet clarity that follows them.

But perhaps…the quiet isn’t the absence of chaos at all. Maybe it’s learning how to breathe inside that chaos — to embrace the noise, the imperfections, and still find ways to express care and love to the people sharing the moment with us.

Wishing you peace this Christmas!