Back in my early travel days, when my backpack was half my size and my budget was a joke, I carried a little watercolor set everywhere. A few brushes, some paper, and a palette of colors. It was something I could pull out on a quiet beach or in the middle of a table full of new friends. I loved watching what people would paint—how we’d all start chatting, then suddenly fall into this comfortable silence, lost in our own worlds. The paintings were always a mix of silly and intricate, thoughtful and spontaneous. And afterward, the conversations that bloomed felt deeper, like we’d all just shared a tiny piece of ourselves.
That watercolor set stayed with me for years. During a solo trip to Sri Lanka, I found myself in a little surf town, renting a cabana behind a family-owned restaurant. Throughout the month, I got to know the three local men that worked there. They showed me around, introduced me to their families and roadside elephants. We spent our days laughing, cooking roti together and sharing bits of our lives.
One day, I pulled out my watercolor sets (something that came with me everywhere) and laid everything out on the wooden floor. None of them had ever painted before. How curious to introduce them to the idea that you could just mix colors, blend water, and paint an observation that stood before you or whatever image lived in your head.
They hesitated at first, then one by one, dipped their brushes in and got to work. I don’t remember exactly what everyone painted, but one of my friends, Mohammad, painted the most perfect little duck. Out of all the things in the world, his first painting: a duck.
That was nearly ten years ago. I still have that painting, framed and carried from home to home. It’s a reminder of that time, of the joy in trying new things, and of the way creativity connects us—even when we don’t speak the same language.
Painting is still a practice I’ve continued to lean into in my own ways of getting off my screen and out of my head. It’s been a fun art to continue and share with others.
It’s been a ritual to start off our artisan meetings in Ecuador— a nice meditative way to loosen up our creative minds before we dive into logistics and orders. None of the women in our group, me included, are painters so it’s always a bit of a process turning on those gears and staring at our blank papers wondering what to paint. To help with that, we often start with the prompt, “What’s something that has made you smile over the weekend?” Once we are finished, the women and I take turns sharing, one by one, showcasing our work with our own art, observations and inspiration.
The motifs you see on our latest Observations clothing collection come directly from these stories. They represent found objects and moments throughout our days- the way the wind moves over mountains, swirly flowers friends and all the little moments that make us smile.
We hope you enjoy it as much as we do!
