In the Studio
I started Mica & Ivory at my own kitchen table out of a necessity for art in my own home, mixing texture mediums long before I ever called myself an artist. What kept me coming back was the process: building up layer after layer until a flat canvas started to catch light like something alive and a story was being told.
I'm Bethanee, and I work out of my home studio in New Hampshire, usually with music playing and my dog, Theodore, at my feet. Every piece is built entirely by hand, with great prayer, intention, and storytelling so you, my collectors, can be completely immersed with its story, which means no two pieces ever turn out the same, and that's the part I love most.
My work is storytelling in art form. I've been a storyteller my whole life. As a young child, I'd be telling my parents a story and command their attention by saying, “Look at me,” and I'd place my hand on their faces and turn their heads toward me so we were looking eye-to-eye so I knew I had attentive listeners. As an adult, I wrote and published a memoir about our years of infertility, miscarriages, and adoption and I've done freelance biographical writing. I've also written poems to convey deep emotions I've had during various periods of my life. That love of storytelling has carried through into my art.
When I'm not in the studio, I'm usually homeschooling or living life with my six children and husband, drinking an iced London Fog with brown sugar cold foam, or finding my next color palette somewhere completely unrelated to painting: hiking in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, the pillow section of any interior design store, or a conversation with a potential client about their home.
I’m a health and wellness coach who loves candy. Not fancy chocolate, either: the fruity, sticky, chewy kind kids love. I get teased all the time for my five-year-old palate.
I’m cold all the time, even in 90-degree weather. I sleep with a heating pad at my feet all summer long, and a travel one lives in my suitcase for every hotel stay.
For most of my life, I told myself I wasn’t creative. Funny how that turned out.
I have what I call “verbal directional dyslexia.” Whenever I give directions out loud, I say the opposite of what I mean. My hands, though, always point the right way. My husband has learned to watch my hands and lovingly ignore whatever I say.
“I paint so my collector’s rooms tell the story they connect with and bring them hope, healing, and beauty. Storytelling through art fills hearts, not just walls.”
Whether you're furnishing one room or an entire home, I'd love to hear about your space.
