For those who have not yet read Shirley Jackson’s novel, The Haunting of Hill House, here’s what you need to know to understand the metaphor: Everything about Hill House is distorted though its individual features appear to be normal at first glance. The stairway seems level, but it is slightly slanted. The walls and doorways look true, but they are a degree or two off. These minor imperfections add up, making the place difficult to navigate. Doors close unless they are held open and sight lines are not what they seem. Rooms that should be visible from a particular vantage point are completely hidden. Hill House’s architecture messes with its visitors’ minds and it may even have one of its own:

Where we put our work says a lot about how we would like our audience to interpret and interact with it. It’s a bit of an understatement to say Hill House is not the best place to show art. I can’t help but wonder whether the marble statue the four characters found in the drawing room was really “grotesque” or if it was simply in the wrong place to be properly appreciated. Based on the description, it could have been a stunning Neoclassical sculpture. I doubt the too-small room, floral carpet and mauve-striped wallpaper were doing it any favors. Anything beautiful would have seemed as woefully out of place in that house as a work of fine art would seem in a feed full of ads, ragebait and memes.

In private chatrooms and discussions, a few writers and artists I deeply respect have said they no longer use social media to look for inspiration and new artists to follow. It’s hard to blame them. When I think of my favorite stories and works of art, every one of them explored new ideas, challenged conventions or came from a deeply personal place. All of those require a kind of vulnerability that social media platforms disincentivize by rewarding bad behavior and cruelty. Call me crazy, but I want every person who is kind enough to look at my art to have a good experience. I don’t want to send them to a place that seeks to hijack their attention. I don’t want them to feel pressured to scroll past at the speed of short form content.

We become like the people with whom we spend the most time. I joined Substack hoping to find my people. I want to spend time with dreamers and explorers. I am looking for others who wish to test ideas, develop their craft, and build communities around shared interests. If you believe the early promises of the Internet are still possible and want to live in a world where social media is a tool that connects us rather than a trap that destroys us, I am looking for you.

Let’s build a better world!

The conventional advice given to people stuck in the dreaming phase is to just start. Take small steps and do a little every day to build momentum. “Action follows action,” they say. It sounds like good advice because it is useful for some people in some situations. It might have been exactly what I needed to hear many years ago; but, by the time I heard it, it was too late. I didn’t need to just start. I needed to just stop. I had been running at full speed in the wrong direction for far too long. Between a disastrous work situation, a series of family tragedies, and friends disappearing when I needed them most, I was exhausted. The last thing I needed was to do more. I needed to pause, catch my breath, and find my bearings. What I needed most was rest.

The break I so desperately needed appeared in early June. One evening, I saw a familiar flash of bright green light out of the corner of my eye. The fireflies had returned! I don’t know how anyone could see them without feeling their mood instantly lighten. I look forward to watching their incredible light show every year. It’s breathtaking to behold. There were more fireflies than usual in the summer of 2025 thanks to the relatively wet spring and, for that, I am grateful. They inspired me to stop for awhile. Instead of working until I dropped, I started spending my evenings watching them. By mid-August, I was feeling much better. That’s when I painted the piece that changed everything.

At first, it was just another digital illustration; but, in the months that followed, I found myself returning to it often. I had finally made something that felt like me. I liked the young woman and her cats. I wanted to tell their story. I named her Mei after May Alcott, the inspiration for Amy March in Little Women, and Mei Kusakabe, Miyazaki’s curious young protagonist in My Neighbor Totoro. I originally envisioned Mei as a writer; but the more I thought about it, the more connections I saw between art and The Fool’s Journey. I began to wonder if I could design a tarot deck around Mei’s development as an artist. Her cats, Obsidian and Crystal or Sid and Tally for short, could guide her to what she needed. From there, ideas began to flow rapidly.

As I was getting started on my deck, I felt a familiar set of doubts start to creep in. Instead of attempting to ignore them like I usually did, I decided to examine them. I wrote down all of the reasons why I shouldn’t be working on this deck right now. Seeing my reasons in writing revealed them for the flimsy excuses they really were. I went through the list attacking each excuse in turn. There was only one legitimate concern on the list: The time investment. A little napkin math suggests this project may take me four years to complete. There are few things I love enough to commit to that kind of time investment, but a tarot deck is one of them. It is my dream project, after all. The one that will not leave me alone.

This is not yet a success story, but I hope it is the beginning of one. I am just starting out, writing the story as I go. Along the way, I plan to share my process, some thoughts about the cards, and everything I learn while working on this deck with the hope that they might help someone. I have a long road ahead of me, but I am excited to get started. Tarot decks are incredible, versatile tools for creativity and storytelling. Those are the aspects of tarot I plan to focus on while working on this deck. At present, it is just an idea, but I would love to bring it to life. I am finally ready to find out if it is good enough.

You have found yourself in the future home of my new art blog. My name is Kristin. You could describe me as an artist or a bookworm; but at heart, I am an explorer. I love to travel both in life and on the page. I want to see new worlds: Worlds that are, worlds that were, worlds that might be and worlds that can never be. History, science, and fantasy are the fuel that feeds my imagination. I feel at home in libraries, archives and museums; but I also spend a lot of time outdoors. When the weather cooperates, I enjoy wandering through the woods near my home with a camera or a sketchbook documenting anything that catches my eye.

Awash of Stars started as a social media handle. I wanted something with a connection to drawing or painting that was easy to remember and showed a little personality. Over time, the name grew on me and it took on new meanings. I love the image the phrase, “painting with a wash of stars,” evokes and how well it describes my approach to life. Living a life awash of stars means moving through the world with a sense of wonder: Leading with curiosity, appreciating skill and craftsmanship, and being present in the moment. It is about enjoying the journey and making the time we have on Earth feel a little more magical.

Why Substack?

What I want from a social media platform is relatively simple. I am looking for a place to share my art, find inspiration and build a community. Like many, I have been searching for alternatives to the ad-supported platforms for years. Although I wasn’t looking to monetize a blog, I kept an eye on Substack because I liked their business model. I was curious if it would work. In theory, serving creatives rather than advertisers should result in healthier conversations and communities. That also appears to be true in practice.

I never expected Substack to become a viable platform for me. I simply hoped their success would lead to someone creating something like it for artists. I was surprised when Substack itself began to turn into the platform I wanted. As they added features, I saw more creatives flocking to Substack. I saw communities forming. I saw meaningful conversations happening. I saw people making art for the sake of making art. That is what I have been missing and hoping to find.

What can you expect from me?

The short answer is art: Drawings, sketches, paintings and illustrations. Charcoal has my heart; but, more recently, I have been experimenting with digital tools. Below are a few of my favorite pieces from last year.

The longer answer is I plan to use this space to share my work, meet people with similar interests and find new sources of inspiration. To start, you can expect bimonthly posts about art. I am currently working on designing and illustrating a tarot deck. One of my monthly posts will be devoted to talking about that project. I’ll share progress updates, my thoughts on the cards and everything I learn while working on the deck. My other monthly post will be a more general exploration of art and the things that inspire my work. If this sounds like something you would enjoy, I hope you will subscribe, check out my work and share some of yours with me.