INKtober 2026
31 days - 31 original drawings

Eleven years ago, INKtober began for me in the middle of a sleepless night.

I got out of bed, plucked two pens from a drawer and made a drawing. The next day, this owl appeared beneath my hand. One drawing became another, and by the end of October I had created and publicly shared an ink drawing every single day alongside artists around the world taking part in the INKtober challenge created by artist Jake Parker.

Somehow the daily discipline of simply showing up and being brave was exactly what I needed after an uncreative summer. Earlier that spring, I had survived a horrific dog-pack attack that left wounds far deeper than the physical ones. Even in my studio, I felt frozen creatively… but 31 days (and drawings) later… I gained much-needed momentum and wrote on my website journal that the drawings had become “baby steps through the fear.”

Now, eleven years later, I feel called to return.

This October I plan to create one original 6 × 8 inch ink drawing every day. Ink is unforgiving. No erasing. No undo button. Just paper, pen, presence and the willingness to trust the line.

I remember drawing wherever life happened to find me that first October: at home. In restaurants. In my studio. In the wilderness. One dawn, after Raymond and I had danced late into the night alongside generations of a family at an autumn barn dance celebration, I sat down on a dry grassy hillside and drew their historic barn. Later I popped the drawing in the mail as a thank you to our gracious hosts.

I never intended to sell the drawings. They were studies I was making for myself: a way of finding my way back to courage, both on paper and in public.

But people began asking if they could own them.
One by one, many of those drawings found homes.

Eleven years later, I'm approaching the practice with that same spirit of exploration: show up with paper, pens and possibility, and be bold enough to share the results. This time, each new original will be offered as it is created.

I invite you to follow along as the collection unfolds: one day, one drawing, one small act of creative courage at a time.