WELCOME to the Tiny Art Village

This is a place for women to find a fresh perspective, discover creative ideas, receive a little encouragement, and feel connected.

You don't have to be an artist. You don't have to make anything. Just come wander around for a while.

Tiny Art Village is a place to slow down, create, reflect, and find a little more joy in ordinary life.

As we change and age, so much of life changes with us. Our bodies, our families, our roles, our relationships, and even the way we see ourselves can change. Sometimes we find ourselves missing something we can't quite name.

Perhaps the answer isn't always to find someone or something to fill the empty place in us. Perhaps it begins by becoming aware of what that empty place is really asking for.

Art gives us a space to clear our minds, slow down, and listen to what is happening inside us.

Aging may feel like life is slowing down, but perhaps it is giving us something else—time to become more intentional about what matters, to notice what we still have, and to take whatever we have, no matter how little, and give it away.

There is still so much to create, to share, and to give.

I am Cathy

I’m a mixed media artist and storyteller through collage and paint.
When I speak of storytelling, I’m not thinking of performance or writing, but of a gentle pause—an invitation to notice how a woman is expressing herself in the world. It’s about becoming aware of how she is processing her experiences and moving from feeling overwhelmed to more grounded and aware.

I help women explore and express their story through creativity. Not by writing a perfect narrative, but by gently noticing the moments they’re living and the meaning they’re making of them. Awareness comes first, and creativity opens a space to pause, reflect, process, and begin to shift what they’re carrying.

I often use a simple framework called STORY:
Situation—what is happening,
Thought—what you’re telling yourself about it,
Overlay of Emotion—the feelings that come from that thought,
Reaction—how you respond, and
Your result—the outcome that follows.

When we become aware of the story we’re telling ourselves, we begin to create space for something new.

What If What You're Missing Isn't What You Think?

As we get older, so much can change.

Our bodies change.
Our energy changes.
Our families change.
Our friendships change.
Our work changes.
Our role in the lives of other people can change.

And sometimes, without even realizing it, we begin to believe that because something about us has changed, something about our worth has changed, too.

We look in the mirror and don't recognize the body looking back at us.

We notice that we can't do what we once did.

Our children don't need us in the same way.

The work that once gave our days purpose may be over.

People we love may be busy building lives of their own.

And we can begin to wonder:

Do I still matter?
Am I still needed?
Does anyone notice me?
What is my purpose now?

Sometimes we try to fix the outside because we don't know what to do with what is happening on the inside.

We try to change our bodies.
We try to stay busy.
We try to find something—or someone—to make us feel important again.

But I've been learning something that has changed the way I look at loss.

When we miss something, it isn't always the thing itself that we are missing.

Sometimes we are missing what that thing gave us.

Connection.
Acknowledgment.
Purpose.
Belonging.
A reason to get up and participate in life.
The feeling that we matter.

And here's something I want you to know:

Your body may change.
Your energy may change.
Your circumstances may change.
But your worth does not diminish.

Getting older may change what you can do, but it does not diminish what you have to give.

You may not be needed in the same ways you once were—but there are still stories only you can tell, encouragement only you can give, beauty only you can notice, and experiences only you can bring to the world.

And if you're feeling lonely, I want you to know something else.

You are not the only one.

There are people all around us quietly wondering if they are important enough to be noticed. People who would love to be invited, remembered, encouraged, or simply seen.

Perhaps the answer isn't always to find someone to fill the empty place in us.

Perhaps sometimes it begins by becoming aware of what that empty place is really asking for.

And then we can begin to create something new.

That is one of the reasons I believe creativity matters so much.

Art gives us a place to slow down and notice.

To explore what we're feeling without having to explain it perfectly.

To reconnect with ourselves.

To express something that may have been sitting quietly inside us.

And sometimes, when we create, we discover that we aren't as empty as we thought we were.

There is still curiosity.
There is still imagination.
There is still something to say.
There is still something to give.
There is still beauty to make.

There is still a life to create.

And perhaps this isn't the time of life when everything gets smaller.

Perhaps this is the time when we become more intentional about what matters.

We may have less energy than we once did.

But we can have more awareness.

More wisdom.

More compassion.

More freedom to choose what we want to carry forward.

Your purpose did not expire when a chapter ended.

You are still here.

And there is still so much you can create.