How Painting Helped Inspire One Writer’s Practice

GUEST BLOG WRITTEN BY Katy Keffer

When I moved from Kentucky to Germany just before seventh grade, I started journaling. The emotional (and physical) adjustment of moving to a foreign country where I did not speak the language morphed into a writing practice that stretched decades. It flourished, until it fizzled. Poof! Gone.

This hit me hard last summer. I felt as if Creativity had departed for her own foreign land. Was this a permanent relocation or short sojourn? Why did she leave? And how would I call her back home?

1. Overcome the Wall: Seize the Spark of Creativity
When I look back, I can see that my writing burnout had built up over years as I reached less often for my journal—a refuge for random poems, short essays, or story ideas. The disinterest stemmed from two main issues: exhaustion and frustration at lack of perceived progress forward. I could see how these things drowned my creativity, but I didn’t know how I would break free of them. After some thought, I decided on starting with less self-judgment. Next, I let go of self-imposed expectations.

But that only got me so far. “Okay,” I told myself, “now what?” Find a different creative outlet using my brain and hands. That sounded good to me! The solution I came up with was home painting projects.

My fiancé, Kevin, and I plan to relocate outside northern Virginia in the coming months. Our townhouse needs updates. And like all the spruce-it-up-in-a-weekend advice from savvy DIYers, I see my opportunity for a fresh coat (or two or three) of paint. There is the back patio fence—with its dirty, loose boards needing attention—and the connecting back gate with rotted boards no longer on hinges. There are the dark-brown, hollow (but still heavy!) wooden doors inside our mid-1980s home which number ten. My list of painting projects forms. I prepare to scale the wall.

2. Learn the Painting Practice: Prepare the Workspace for Methodical Work
My first major painting faux pas occurs near the end of project number one. Stepping back for a fuller view of my handiwork, my sock-covered heel dips into the tray of Ultra Pure White semigloss paint. With a gasp and quick look back, relief washes over me to see no paint has spilled onto the carpet. Prepared for such a scenario with drop cloths, old white sheets, and a blue-flowered-cotton shower curtain draped over the downstairs floor, my pride still suffers a blow. There have been no paint mishaps so far. I know better.

And I know painting is methodical work done with measured movements. Even with small errors from time to time, I can remedy them. As I watch my brush apply paint onto the doors, it dawns on me that this may apply to my writing practice. All I need to do is to slow down and focus.

3. Ignite Purpose: Make It Better with Multiple Coats (and Drafts)
I clean the outdoor patio fence, scrubbing with detergent and water to wash away tree mildew and dirt. It’s a Saturday evening in early August. My parents are in town, and we visit the nearby home improvement store. We purchase fence boards and wood nails for a new outdoor gate. The next day, Kevin and Dad go to work. In a little over three hours, the gate is completed. It shines in its young, golden-brown wood, and stands sturdy and strong. I tackle the remaining fence with a painter’s gusto: one coat of exterior primer to protect against mold; a final coat of the wood stain in Navajo White. The gate’s new wood requires curing. I must wait to paint the gate.

I think of writing pieces started, then discarded. I am comforted knowing a finished written product also needs several coats—repeated reviews and drafts—before completion. Just as the young wood needs time to cure, so does my writing. Better to let it sit for a bit and allow my mind time to consider new approaches to the work.

4. Have Patience: Polishing Perfects the Wood (and Word)
My home’s interior doors are dated by their dark brown surfaces, and I am eager to refresh the look. I test out my method—two coats of primer, one coat of semigloss topcoat—on the main level’s hall closet door. Outside, surrounded by the completed fence, patience prevails with the first door. I ease into this project as I let the first coat dry before applying the second. I flip the door over. Repeat. Apply semigloss. Flip. Apply final coat.

After multiple steps and wait times, the door is ready to hang. Kevin helps with a new door handle—an update to chrome from the original shiny brass. Completed, I marvel at the door’s quick assimilation to the room.

I start to admonish myself—how and why did I take twelve years to do this project? Then I stop. I consider the drafts of stories, essays, and poems sitting on my computer, started years ago. They also wait, stand by for a fresh coat of writing, new and updated words to add to characterization, scene, plot, or personal reflection. They, too, need polishing. And the timing of their polishing will manifest when it should.

Six doors await me upstairs. Three more are on the lower level. I learn from the first door and keep them inside and on their level. I set up drop cloths, open windows for ventilation. As I paint, I focus on application. I catch extra drops of paint, smooth them out. Dip the brush for more. Repeat. A small smile surfaces as I liken the process to the phases of writing: generate the idea; establish the workspace; work; wait; update; edit; proofread; complete. The cycle soothes me, and I draw inspiration from its purpose.

5. Take the Writing Journey: Assistance Is Often Necessary
I might remember summer 2024 as the summer of painting. But it is also the summer I restarted my writing practice assisted by trying something new. I rediscover my local public library and read more. I take Kim’s copyediting class, draft a book review, and become inspired to write more reviews. These practice drafts prompt a much-needed shift. When an independent book review publisher seeks reviewers, I sign on immediately. It is another new endeavor to aid in banishing the writing fizzle. Assisted by family and new friends, sparked by devoted intention to new projects, and ushered in on paint’s harmonious fumes, I welcome writing back home.


Katy Keffer is a Kentucky native and writes poetry, nonfiction and fiction inspired by her Bluegrass childhood. Some of her work appears in Freshwater Literary Journal, A Plate of Pandemic, Hare’s Paw Literary Journal, The RavensPerch and Sad Girl Diaries. She holds an MBA, an MFA in Writing, and is founder and editor of the online literary journal The Bluebird Word. She writes and lives in Virginia.