Why I Started Writing About Artists

I started thinking one day about how there are millions of stories about artists.

Most of us can name a few famous ones. We've seen the paintings of Leonardo da Vinci, Vincent van Gogh, Claude Monet, or Pablo Picasso. Their work has become part of our shared culture.

But what about everyone else?

History is filled with extraordinary artists whose names have faded with time. Some were celebrated during their lives and later forgotten. Others never received recognition at all. Some worked in isolation, creating simply because they couldn't imagine doing anything else.

I've always wondered what made them tick.

One of my favorite podcasts is Lore. It explores forgotten histories, strange events, and the fascinating stories hiding just beneath the surface of what we think we know. Listening to it made me realize something: artists have those hidden stories, too.

What inspired them? What were they afraid of? What made them see the world differently than everyone else? Why do some artists become household names while others remain almost completely unknown?

As a professional artist who also loves history, I find those questions endlessly fascinating.

For many months I've been sharing what I've come to call our "Mini-Muses"—short stories about artists both famous and obscure. Some were painters. Others were sculptors, quilters, printmakers, photographers, or self-taught visionaries. They came from different countries, cultures, and centuries, but they all shared one thing: the need to create.

The more I learn about these artists, the more I realize they aren't myths or geniuses placed on unreachable pedestals. They were people. They struggled. They doubted themselves. They experimented, failed, tried again, and kept making art because they had something to say.

In a world that constantly demands our attention, we often move too quickly. Images flash past us by the thousands every day. We scroll instead of seeing. We react instead of reflecting.

Art asks us to do something different.

It invites us to slow down. To notice. To ask questions. To feel something we didn't expect. Whether it's a painting, a piece of music, a play, a poem, or a hand-stitched quilt, the arts connect us across generations. They remind us that people have always searched for beauty, meaning, humor, grief, hope, and belonging.

That is why these stories matter.

Here at the Arts Depot, our mission has remained remarkably consistent for more than 72 years: to encourage, inspire, and teach through the arts.

Of course, the way we reach people has changed. Sometimes it's difficult to get new visitors through our doors. So we're also taking art to where people already are—on their phones, computers, and social media feeds. If someone pauses for just a moment to discover an artist they've never heard of, we've made a connection. If that spark encourages someone to visit an exhibit, attend a performance, or sign their child up for an art class, then we've done what we've always hoped to do.

And perhaps that child discovers that creativity is part of who they are.

That's how communities grow stronger—one curious person at a time.

If you've found your way here, I hope you'll continue exploring with us. Follow along with our Mini-Muses, visit one of our exhibits or events, or simply spend a little more time noticing the creativity that already surrounds you.

There are millions of artists with stories worth telling.

We're just getting started.