Paintings About Rest | The Story Behind the Rest Series

Much to my family’s chagrin, I have a habit of sharing what I find to be wildly profound statements I heard on a podcast at the dinner table. I also tend to wax poetic to waiters, baristas, or friends of friends I’ve just met. Look, when a certain group of words feels like it has the power to change the course of the universe—or maybe just your own little corner of it—you can’t keep that to yourself.

My latest obsession comes from psychologist and writer Nicola Jane Hobbs:

“Instead of asking, ‘Have I worked hard enough to deserve to rest?’ I’ve started asking, ‘Have I rested enough to do my most loving, meaningful work?’

No notes.

The quote doesn’t suggest that rest is a reward we earn after meaningful work. It suggests the opposite: that rest is what makes meaningful work possible.

That idea found me at just the right time.

It was late July, and I was putting the finishing touches on paintings for two back-to-back shows: one at my gallery and one at Orleans Gallery. Both exhibitions were primarily made up of small works. As deadlines drew closer, I found myself courageously resisting that familiar voice that whispers, How many more can you squeeze in today?

Instead, I took naps. I washed my face. I stepped away from the easel. I tried—however imperfectly—to do the things I know help me show up with generosity instead of urgency.

Then Hobbs’ words sparked a particular curiosity.

What if, instead of painting a few more pieces that fit neatly into the series and would likely sell, I simply played with this idea? What if I made paintings about rest—not as the reward for meaningful work, but as its very foundation?

These four little paintings came swiftly.

Ironically, they may have been the least forced paintings of the entire collection. They weren’t driven by scarcity or the pressure to produce one more piece. They came from following an idea that had taken hold of me.

By the third painting, I found myself thinking about the story in the Gospel of Matthew where Jesus sleeps peacefully in the boat while the disciples panic through the storm. Without planning it, my own figure ended up resting in a boat too.

The more I painted, the more I realized that Scripture has been telling this story all along. God rests in the opening pages of Genesis. Jesus rests in the middle of a storm. Rest isn’t portrayed as laziness or indifference, but as trust.

If God rests, certainly I can too.

Should, actually.

I’m not claiming I’ve been cured of my inherent hustle. I’m still the kind of person who doesn’t like to be caught lying on the sofa. If I hear a car pull into the driveway, I’ll often jump up and find something to do so I look productive if someone comes to the door.

Old habits die hard.

But Hobbs’ words have given me a different question to carry into the studio.

Not, Have I worked hard enough to deserve to rest?

But, Have I rested enough to do my most loving, meaningful work?

I’m beginning to believe that my best paintings don’t come after I’ve exhausted myself. They come after I’ve made room to become the kind of person who can paint them.

Maybe that’s why I keep telling anyone who will listen.

It just feels like such good news.