February Full Moon Practice: Ritual
A guide to inviting ritual into your watercolor practice and life.
*** Hello everyone ~ this is the monthly watercolor practice I send to paid subscribers.
I wanted to give y’all a sneak peek of what this letter looks like. Each month, you’ll receive a theme, a reflection, and a watercolor prompt designed to deepen your creative practice.
Paid subscribers also get access to my seasonal intensives—a focused 5-day experience on Substack with a daily watercolor prompt and live sessions with me.
If you’re interested, hit the button below to pick your plan
Some days feel like an endless loop. The school drop-off, the dishes, the emails, the snacks, the bedtime routine (why does it always take so long?). Then we wake up and do it all over again.
Parenting is mundane. Creative work can feel mundane. Even our relationships—deep, loving, essential relationships—can fall into repetition.
But here’s what I’ve learned: when I rush through these moments, waiting for something big or exciting, I miss the actual life I’m living.
Ritual changes that.
Ritual is a way to anchor ourselves in the present. It allows us to respond to life instead of just reacting to it. It turns routine into something sacred, even if it’s just the way you make coffee in the morning or the few seconds you take to set up your paints.
And that’s what I want to talk about this month—not just how ritual supports our creativity, but how it gives us a structure to lean into so we don’t feel so uprooted in this human experience.
I think a lot about how watercolor mirrors this. Unlike acrylic or oil, watercolor doesn’t let you control every detail. You can place the pigment, but the water carries it. Some of the most beautiful parts of a painting happen when you let go.
Just like in life, you aren’t responsible for every outcome—you’re responding to what unfolds.
This month’s creative practice is about repetition—about finding beauty in doing something with intention again and again, until suddenly, what once felt mundane becomes something meaningful.
Audio Reflection: The Magic in the Mundane
Before we dive into this month’s watercolor practice, I recorded a short reflection for you. This is a chance to pause, step away from the noise, and think about how small rituals can bring more meaning into your daily life and creative work. Listen while you work or scroll down to read the transcript.
A Watercolor Exercise: Echo Echo
For this exercise, we’re painting wavy lines that echo each other across the page. Think of it like ripples in water, or the way a song’s chorus repeats with slight variations. It’s simple, fluid, and surprisingly meditative.
🔹 What You’ll Need:
Watercolor paper (or kraft paper if you want to go big!)
A large brush
Watercolor, ink, or sumi ink
A cup of water
🔹 Step-by-Step Tutorial:
Start with one wavy line.
Load your brush with paint and place it at one edge of your page.
Move across in a single, flowing motion—top to bottom, side to side, or diagonally.
No need to overthink it. Just let your hand move naturally.
Paint another line that follows the first.
Let this second line "echo" the first one, staying close but not identical.
Some areas might get tighter, some might drift apart—that’s okay.
Keep going, one line at a time.
Each new line follows the last, creating a wave-like rhythm across the page.
Let the paint do its thing—bleeding, blending, or drying in unexpected ways.
Use one color or many — work with your mood and what you have.
Try going big if you have the space.
If you have a roll of kraft paper, roll it out on the floor and use bigger movements.
Sumi ink is great for bold, gestural strokes.
When you work larger, you feel the motion in your whole body.
Pause and take it in.
Step back and look at how the lines interact.
How did it feel to paint this way? Did anything surprise you?
🔹 Why This is Worth Trying
This exercise is all about letting one mark lead to the next—kind of like how we move through our days, one moment at a time. There’s no right or wrong, just a chance to get lost in the repetition and see where it takes you.
Let me know if you try it—I’d love to hear what the experience was like for you!
Upcoming Events:
Spring Equinox Intensive
March 17th - 21st
Substack Lives Daily
12pm-12:45pm Central Time
Let’s improve your watercolor technique in this spring intensive. Along with daily lives for demo’s and questions, I will provide a painting exercise every day for the week of the Spring Equinox. Prompts will be spring-focused and can be used as a way to prepare for the season ahead.
I love creating these monthly practices and seasonal intensives as a way to deepen our connection to watercolor and to ourselves. Whether you follow along in real-time or come back to these prompts when you need them, I hope they bring a sense of presence and creativity into your days.
If you’re ready to join us and dive deeper, hit the button below to become a paid subscriber. Can’t wait to paint with you!
Audio Reflection Transcript
Hello and welcome to your February Full Moon Watercolor Practice. This month, we’re focusing on ritual—how small, intentional moments can shift our experience and bring us back to ourselves.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about repetition. About how so much of life is made up of small, ordinary actions—the things we do over and over again, sometimes without even thinking. Packing school lunches, washing dishes, making coffee. It’s easy to see these things as chores, as the “ugh, I have to do this again” parts of life.
But what if they’re more than that?
[Shifting Mindset on the Mundane]
The other morning, I was walking with a friend, and she told me about a shift she’s been working on. Instead of thinking, I have to do this—make four school lunches, wipe down the counters, unload the dishwasher—she’s trying to reframe it as I get to do this.
At first, I kind of nodded along, like, yeah okay, sure. But later that day, it stuck with me. Because honestly? Some days I do feel like life is just a long to-do list. And when I’m rushing through it all, waiting for the next big moment, I miss the actual life that’s happening right now.
[My Most Mundane Daily Action as a Ritual]
The most mundane thing I do every day is make coffee.
I wake up early, get the kids up, fed, dressed, and in the car for school drop-off at 7:30. Through all of that, I only drink herbal tea. Not because I’m a saint, but because I want to wait for my coffee. It’s like this little beacon in my morning.
When I get home, I try to sneak in a walk or a quick YouTube workout before making my coffeeeee—she sings dramatically—because once I start making it, I want to be fully present.
Lately, I’ve been obsessed with trying to perfect an oat milk latte. We got an espresso machine with a legit steam wand, and I swear, steaming the milk has become this tiny act of meditation. The way I hold the pitcher, the exact angle of the wand, listening for that just right sound of the milk frothing—it’s ridiculous how tuned in I am. But it’s also kind of amazing.
Because here’s the thing: how I show up in that moment actually affects the outcome. It’s not just about dumping milk into a cup. A small shift—tilting the pitcher a little more, waiting half a second longer—completely changes the texture. And that reminds me so much of watercolor.
[Now With Watercolor]
With watercolor, I can have a plan, but I’m not in control of everything. The water moves in ways I don’t expect. The pigment spreads, blends, dries in patterns I couldn’t have predicted. And yet—how I respond to that moment matters. If I fight it, if I try to force the paint to do what I think it should, I end up frustrated. But if I watch, adjust, let the movement guide me, something better than I imagined often emerges.
And that’s what ritual does for us. It gives us a structure, something to lean into, so that we’re not just floating untethered through this human experience. It helps us stay with ourselves instead of rushing past the moments that actually make up our lives.
[Closing]
So I want to ask you—what’s one small, mundane thing you do every day that brings you back to yourself? Something you usually don’t think twice about, but when you slow down, you realize it holds more meaning than you thought?
If you try this month’s watercolor exercise, I’d love to hear how it goes. And if you have a ritual—big or small—that helps you feel more present, hit reply and tell me about it.
Thanks for being here. I’ll talk to you soon.
About Jaime
Jaime is a working artist based in Austin, Texas. She graduated from Pratt Institute with a degree in Interior Design and a minor in creative burnout. Seeking a deeper connection with her body, she went on to dedicate the next 10 years of her life to studying Yoga and Meditation with some of the top teachers in North America.
She started painting while pregnant with her first child and quickly realized her watercolor practice provided a safe space to remember herself, loosen the tendency for control and regain a quiet mind space. Because of this she dedicated any free moment she could (with two kids) to her paints.
Jaime offers artwork and experiences that encourage a deeper connection with your perfectly imperfect nature.