ABOUT THE ARTIST
It is truly an honor to you have you here. Thank you for joining me in this space.
The name Rosalie was my grandmother’s, passed down to me as a middle name. While pregnant with my first child (to be named Hazel Gwen) this fusion of bodies and the process of creating life within rather than on a canvas became the inspiration behind Rosalie Gwen.
The Beginning
It began with great suffering.
As a child I was always creating something. It wasn't uncommon for me to spend hours playing with pastels, or even days building a scrapbook. It's safe to say I was endlessly inspired, which manifested in such a way that I bounced around from hobby to hobby, never quite settling, perpetually bound in a cycle of intense, short-lived fascination that would ultimately wane before I managed to decide if I loved it.
So it wasn't until my late twenties when I was suddenly and acutely stricken with multiple autoimmune conditions that, for the very first time, I was forced to slow down. The pain was nearly surreal in its depth and scope, rendering me so tender to the touch it was as though my body were made purely of electrical currents, every step taken accompanied with a lick of white heat. I almost never slept for more than a few hours, although the record was eleven days. It was the insomnia that broke me. The days that never quite began or ended, rather melting into each other like liquid dreams.
After meeting with eleven specialists, none of whom could offer a diagnosis, I grew quite tired of waiting to die and decided I might as well learn something new before meeting my Maker.
I prayed a simple prayer “Lord, give these days meaning,” and in His great love, He met me in the darkness.
Graves Into Gardens
On what some might consider a whim, that I knew better to call An Answer, I picked up a pencil and began to sketch, mostly faces, finding immense joy in discovering the spectrum of graphite. Don't misunderstand: I was absolutely terrible (strange and ethereal renderings that were neither nouveau nor nostalgic) but suddenly that didn't seem to matter. The crippling anxiety I had often felt about not being able to make something beautiful dissipated when confronted with the realization hours were passing without pain registering. Not only that but as I continued to experiment and fail, somewhere in there I started to get not absolutely terrible.
Then I began tinkering with watercolor and discovered failure on a whole new level. After 100 messes or so I finally painted a piece that would have made Monet weep (okay, not really) and resolved to master this fickle medium. I started with florals thinking I would move on to more "advanced" studies. It's been over a decade and I'm still painting flowers. I've never been bored. Not once. They are a language all their own.
Six months into my health crisis I was diagnosed with a thyroid condition and Fibromyalgia, which did explain unpalatable array of odd symptoms that left many doctors stumped and/or seriously considering I was, for lack of a better word, insane. In all fairness I was never completely sane to begin with. Is any artist?
With medication to help mitigate the pain I spent hours upon hours painting, flourishing as I found a way of communicating that require no words at all. With it I discovered the desire to truly live. After months bedridden, I resolved to never take a single day for granted. No joy was too small. The simple act of folding my laundry again left my heady with gratitude. And of course that is how I healed, truly healed, with equal parts joy and gratitude.
It was like being born all over again, this time with senses fully developed and armed with the truth that I had nothing, absolutely nothing, to fear - not even death. Deeply depressed, I had sat on Death's doorstep, all too willing to die and end my suffering. So wasn't it just like Jesus to instead show me how to really live.
Apparently I had been doing it wrong.
With a thankfulness for everything I suddenly wanted my life, in all its flaws, irregularities and glaring defects, quite possibly for the first time. I was AWAKE in a way that had me eager for the next day if only to find out what might happen. I was walking on holy ground.
.
In Full Bloom
In 2017 our lives changed forever when my husband and I welcomed our first daughter, Hazel Gwen, into the world. As a first-time, chronically-ill mother I was utterly out of my depths caring for a colic newborn, and soon found myself struggling to adjust to this new way of life. When I found myself in the dark, it was not unfamiliar terrain. I had been there, experienced the blackest of days, and knew how to look for the pinpricks of light.
Slowly, little by little, I began to discover the person I had become - a much hardier version of my former self; someone willing to make mistakes, to Show Up and work extremely hard, if it meant she could do what she loves each day. Hazel rekindled a fire deep within me, forcing me to learn how to fuse mother and artist into one, and ultimately helping me realize there was space for my art in this great, big world.
After years working on paper, I began to itch for other canvases and soon found my way to painting on ornaments. Talk about a literal learning curve. I spent a year figuring out how to perfect the process, something that was ever and only meant to satiate my stubborn desire to figure it out, though later opened the door for me to offer my first Master Class to creatives who, like me, longed to see their work beyond paper. Such a thrilling and rewarding experience!
A few notable mentions:
2020 brought us another blessing, daughter Violet Fiona, and I realized I had only thought I was busy before. Once again it was a time of growing and refining and deep, deep reliance on God. Painting has often taken a backseat to motherhood, as it should, and I have learned - albeit slowly - how to trust the Lord's timing and remember that His plans are always much better than my own.
In 2022 a dream came true when I signed with Page Street Publishing, an imprint of Macmillan, and released my very first book! It continues to be a rich blessing to share my love of floral design and take an intimidating subject and make it approachable and I dare say fun for people all over the world!
I've had the pleasure of designing patterns for several profoundly creative women, Laura Ashley, Monika Hibbs and Shea McGee to name a few. I've painted thousands of ornaments, seen my work erected in a gallery, painted on practically anything that would have me and my brush (even a wooden pig!) and have the joy of teaching students the beauty of watercolor via Skillshare. It is a beautifully full and creative life.
But if I'm being honest the real achievement isn't even mine. It belongs to Jesus. All the praise and adoration. All for you, my King.
That is my story. The story of my undoing and remaking. Which means of course that I am a work of art, and you are too - yes, you - reading this right now. You are a priceless masterpiece thrown and carefully sculpted by the loving hand of the Potter.
Thank you for being here.
With gratitude,
Cara