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There’s a unique kind of magic in Provence—the kind that has drawn artists like Van Gogh, Cézanne, and Monet for generations. It feels like the air hums with creativity, urging you to pick up a brush, explore, and pour yourself into something meaningful. This fall, I found myself stepping into that magic at the NG Art Creative Residency in Maussane des Alpilles, France.
But the journey to get there felt almost impossible.
Months before, I stumbled across a post about this residency. My first thought? There’s no way. I nearly dismissed it altogether—so many talented artists apply, and I couldn’t imagine being chosen. But something in me whispered to try anyway, and to my surprise, I got in. That moment taught me something I’ll carry with me forever: shoot your shot. Even when the odds feel stacked against you, there’s a chance it might change your life.
Finding Inspiration Where I Least Expected It
In the weeks leading up to my trip, I felt paralyzed by uncertainty. What should I paint? How would I capture a place with such a rich artistic history? I packed my supplies almost reluctantly, worrying I wouldn’t live up to the opportunity.
And then I arrived.
The landscape swept me up immediately—fields of olive trees, the rugged peaks of the Alpilles, and a light so golden it felt otherworldly. Suddenly, everything clicked. I didn’t need a plan. I just needed to be present, to let the landscape and the energy of Provence guide me.
Before I left for France, I bought a giant roll of raw canvas on a whim. At the time, it seemed excessive, but as soon as I unpacked it, I knew it was the right choice. The raw edges and imperfect texture felt like Provence—untamed, organic, alive. My work shifted instantly. I traded watercolor for bold acrylics and started layering colors and textures on the canvas.
It was liberating. I stopped overthinking and let my emotions guide the brush. For the first time in a long while, I wasn’t trying to make something perfect—I was letting the art flow through me.
Lessons in Slowing Down
Being in Provence wasn’t just about painting; it was about slowing down and experiencing life. Most mornings, I wandered through local markets filled with vibrant produce, fresh flowers, and artisan cheeses. In the afternoons, I painted, letting the rhythm of the day guide me.
One thing that stuck with me was how deeply connected Van Gogh was to his work, even when no one understood him. He didn’t paint for fame or approval—he painted because it was part of who he was. That resonated deeply with me. Staying just 15 minutes away from Saint Rémy de Provence, where Van Gogh created some of his most iconic works while at the asylum, made this connection even more poignant. Walking through the same landscapes that inspired him, I felt the weight of his passion and perseverance. It reminded me that art isn’t always about results. Sometimes, it’s about the process, the presence, the joy of simply creating.
This residency reminded me that it’s okay to slow down, to savor each moment, and to give myself the grace to be inspired.
Building Community, Sharing Stories
The residency wasn’t just about what I created—it was about who I met. Artists from around the world gathered there, each with their own story and style. One painted the stories of older local women; another shared how she balanced her job with her passion for painting. Together, we cooked meals, swapped techniques, and stayed up late sharing wine and inspiration.
Each conversation became a lesson. One painter’s focus on storytelling made me rethink how I approach narrative in my work. Another painter’s for structure shifted the way I saw composition. Each artist’s unique perspective shaped mine, and I left with not just paintings, but a creative community I’ll cherish forever.
Why You Should Take the Leap
If you’re dreaming of applying for a residency—or pursuing any creative opportunity—here’s my advice: Do it. Even if you feel unprepared or unworthy. You never know what might come of it.
This experience reminded me why I fell in love with painting in the first place. It reconnected me to that pure, unfiltered joy of creation. It also taught me that art isn’t a solitary act—it’s shaped by the people we meet, the stories we share, and the connections we build.
Provence didn’t just change the way I paint. It deepened my understanding of why I paint. For that, I’ll always be grateful.
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Ivonne
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