Nobody teaches you how to end things
Opening Note
Two things happened in the same week
“I always wanted to be someone better the next day than I was the day before.”
— Sidney Poitier
This month I put the finishing touches on my series Colors of Understanding and sketched the first outline for a program that I’m preparing to introduce in the fall. The ending of a creative project, and the other was the beginning of a overall journey I have yet to explore. What surprised me was the unexpected emotions that came to me around how I would feel about ending. I expected the ending to feel like relief and the beginning to feel like fear. It came out the other way around. Closing Colors of Understanding sat heavy in my chest for days. Starting The Art Yard felt like breathing. I have been sitting with why.
Studio Note
Nobody teaches you how to end things
A project wrapped, a season closed, and the next task was already sitting in my inbox before I knew it. The structure carried the transition so I did not have to overthink where I was going
Working for myself, I have to close the chapter and write the next one. Both. Sometimes in the same week. There is no manager reassigning me, no calendar telling me the season has changed. I decide when something is finished, and I decide what earns the space it leaves behind. That is the part nobody warns you about when you leave. Not the money. Not the risk. The responsibility for your own rhythm.
On the Easel
Colors of Understanding comes to a close
Colors of Understanding started in Pride month, and it is closing now. The collection is built on the six colors of the Pride Flag and the meaning each one carries. Red for life. Orange for healing. Yellow for sunlight. Green for nature. Blue for harmony. Purple for spirit. I wanted to make something that represented my community. By showing how those six meanings actually show up in my life. Not as symbols on a flag, but as lived color. Showing what healing looks like in my home. What harmony looks like in my body. What spirit looks like in my soul on an ordinary Tuesday. Six original canvases came out of it. They are for the person who loves color. Or the person who wants to bring a favorite color into a room and have it carry a story instead of just matching the couch. The originals are available now, along with prints and giftable pieces for anyone who wants to live with this work at a smaller scale.
This series asked me to make work that had to be understood, not just admired. That is a different assignment than the one I usually give myself in the studio, and it changed how I think about clarity.
A Piece of Insight
What HEALING showed me about my own hand
Somewhere in the middle of this collection, while I was working on the piece called “HEALING”, I found my style.
I come from apparel. Which taught me to notice details of a look in it’s entirety especially down to the accessories, and I have always loved glasses. Sunglasses, reading glasses, it does not matter. They are the accessory that has always resonated with me.
I was deep in that painting when I noticed I keep putting glasses on my figures. And inside the glasses, flowers. Not because I planned it. Because my natural connection to elements in nature have always been at the core of my creative spirit. It is something that we all need but I do realize we don’t appreciate and care for it as much as we should in this overly commercialized and “developed” society..
That was the moment it clicked. This is not a habit. This is a style, it is mine, and I should stay with it.
It also told me exactly what to work on next: figure drawing, and learning how flowers and foliage actually form so I can build them instead of suggest them.
You can spend years looking for your voice and then find it in the middle of a piece you were already making. That is what finishing a body of work gives you. You do not get that from starting.
SOMETHING NEW
The Art Yard Registration Page
Introducing The Art Yard
This fall I am starting The Art Yard, an after-school program at AIM, the Academy for Innovation in Medicine here in Atlanta.
It is open to AIM scholars across K-12. We will meet for two hours after school, about four days a week, working through the fundamentals: acrylic and watercolor painting, anatomy illustration, visual storytelling, and color theory. Final projects will look different for every scholar depending on the medium they choose to pursue.
I have wanted to do this for a while. I did not have language for why until recently. When I was young, the thing that made art feel possible was not talent. It was access, a safe creative space, different materials, and adults who showed me that what I was making mattered.
The Art Yard is my way to be that room for somebody else.
Right now the program is only for AIM scholars. It will open to the community before long, and you will hear it here first.
SNEAK PEEK
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SNEAK PEEK 〰️
Collector’s iykyk
Thumbnails from Colors of Understanding series, and what comes next?
What does starting on a new adventure look like?
I want to be honest here, because this room is not a highlight reel.
There is a version of me that starts new things to avoid sitting with what just ended. A new program is exciting. A closing report is not. Momentum can look like progress when it is actually just motion.
So I asked myself a hard question this month. Am I starting The Art Yard because it is right, or because it is louder than the quiet of something ending?
I think both can be true and I still have to choose well. The test is not whether the new thing excites me. The test is whether I finished the last thing with the same care I am bringing to the next one. That is the standard I am holding myself to this season, and I would rather say it out loud than pretend I am above the question.
Commissions Are Open
Five spots. One is taken.
I am opening five commission spots for the rest of 2026, including holiday delivery.
One is already claimed. Four remain.
I am keeping the number small on purpose. A commission is not something I want to rush. It is a conversation about your space, your story, and what you want to live with every day. That takes time, and I would rather do four well than twelve poorly.
I am keeping the number small on purpose. A commission is not something I want to rush. It is a conversation about your space, your story, and what you want to live with every day. That takes time, and I would rather do four well than twelve poorly.
The work is mixed media, sized from 18 x 18 up to 36 x 36, starting at $324. Turnaround is four weeks from deposit to delivery, with the balance due at the three-week mark so I can hold that delivery date. If you have questions before you commit, email me at ebmurden@ebcloft.com and we will talk it through.
If you have been circling the idea, this is the season to say something.Before You Commission Anything
The free sizing guide
Here is the question I get most often, and it is almost never about style. It is about size.
How big should it be?
People fall in love with a piece, hang it, and something feels off. The art is right. The scale is wrong. A canvas that sings in a gallery can disappear over a sofa.
So I made a free guide that walks you through it. How to measure your wall. How to size a piece over furniture. What spacing to leave. How to think about a gallery wall versus a single statement piece.
It is free, it takes a few minutes, and it will save you from an expensive mistake.
→ Download the free sizing guide at ebcloft.com This free download can be found at the top of the homepage.
And if you are considering one of the four spots, start here. Come to the conversation already knowing your wall, and we get to spend our time on the story instead of the tape measure.
Closing Reflection
On finishing and beginning
Endings deserve the same attention we give beginnings. We celebrate launches. We rarely mark the last day of something that mattered.
This month I am trying to do both. To close Colors of Understanding with gratitude instead of rushing past it. To start The Art Yard with intention instead of adrenaline.
So here is my question for you: What is something in your life that has quietly ended, and did you give yourself the chance to mark it?
I’d love to hear from you.
Keep creating. Keep innovating. Keep believing.
Thank you for being in the room.
— Edmond B. Murden
Founder, EBC Loft

