MAY/ JUNE NEWSLETTER FROM THE STUDIO OF RAQUEL P MILLER

I’ve spent the last two months seeing myself reflected in the flowers and through signs of spring. I watched the daffodils arrive and leave, replaced by tulips in the sidewalk garden I walk by on my break. I watched them bloom and spread, swaying in the wind, and I watched them slowly wilt, losing one petal, another, another, until they were gone. The tulips are gone now, too.

How beautiful and lucky we are to smell lilacs when they bloom. To watch recently as the irises rise from the garden beds. Everything is happening so quickly. As always, I am still surprised how quickly time moves. Even the flowers and the ferns feel like they came out of nowhere. Yet, they make me think of memories and make me dream. The flowers transport me back into memories, into the past. They stop me in my tracks, slow me down as I witness their shapes, movement, collectiveness, and simplicity.

I’ve been drawing flowers in graphite when I can. It feels like a zine is emerging before my eyes. These past weeks feel like I am tending to my own personal archive of sketches, ideas, and material. In a way a flower might be saved and pressed in a heavy book, I feel like I am placing my own images in sketchbooks to pull from in the future.

My studio practice has consisted of collaborative projects, daily sketchbook explorations, writing, and a new class in the ceramics studio. I have a lot of really special opportunities that I am working towards this Summer and this Fall.

Do you have a favorite flower to witness in the spring? A favorite plant or bird? The way the petals of a tulip start to wilt when they’re dying are so beautiful and it transports me to a heart space full of awe and reverence, and I’ve been thinking of those a lot. Two years ago, Esper and I foraged for violets at dusk and watched the full moon on a dock in Freeport. Whenever I see violets, I think of that night.

For my summer, I am dreaming of more wildflowers, birdwatching, full moons, sunrises and sunsets, a mango smoothie, swimming at East Point Sanctuary, kayaking the Saco River, more painting in the studio, my hands in clay.

with Daniel Minter and Indigo Arts Alliance

I was honored to co-facilitate three ceramic bead making workshops alongside Daniel Minter for his upcoming installation at the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens. I worked alongside Daniel and the Project Coordinator, and my friend and fellow artist, Rosalba Breazale throughout May and June at my home ceramics studio, Mill Pond Ceramics. And our workshops were so lovely—feeling so comforting, easeful, and inspiring. I’m so grateful for the chance to work with clay and the community for a larger project such as this one for Daniel.

Paint & Sip Collaborative Project

I’ve spent the last month easing my way back into the studio—carving out small pockets of time during the day when I can. Whether it be 15 minutes on my lunch break, an hour before bed, or putting on a 10 minute timer and painting while I can, I’ve been simply trying to get myself in, working on one small piece of a whole.

Aside from that, my studio has been the library steps as I painted a painting a day in a small sketchbook. It feels good to be collecting these ideas. I started out the year drawing with fountain pens and yearned for a looseness and to feel close to my medium. Knowing I can create a small painting each day felt at first like a simple act, engaging muscle memory, and maybe as if it was not enough, not real, or did not count. But slowly, I am seeing images and symbols reappear. I carry them with me every day and I see now that I am building up a collection of ideas and sketches for larger work. And I am grateful that this small practice in my day is sustaining me.

I often carry a lot of pressure from myself to be meeting unrealistic standards of what my art practice should look like that does not account for anything else but making the art. And its unrealistic, unsustainable, and so hard to access while working full time and maintaining the rest of my responsibilities.

Accepting that my practice has shifted has been a journey, and I am still on it. But realizing that even these small pockets of time towards my practice are sacred and worthy, has allowed me to ease up on the pressures I have unnecessarily put on myself and allowed a level of gratitude to have this practice at all.

I signed up for a ceramics class at my studio and it was so lovely to visit the ceramics studio the last couple of weeks with some structure and support from a class setting, after working through a few collaborative projects. I’ve been wanting to making larger vessels and finally have upped my throwing capacity to….. 4 lbs!

Almost two years ago now, I set out to learn ceramics so that I could create an urn for my mom. And I have not done that!! Ceramics is hard in the sense that it requires patience, practice, slowness. And my journey has allowed certain skills to shine—like my decorative scraffito and mark making. But throwing larger vessels has just taken me time. I’m really excited to have had some successful runs, but I know it will require even more time and practice. I hope to make a large jar, and begin the preparation of finally making my mom’s urn for her ashes.

She deserves to rest in something loved and made by hand.

My Substack blog COLORS OF PASTEL is another way for me to share and archive some of my inspirations each month. Books I am reading, art I am seeing, moments from the Maine Master Naturalist Program… yada yada! Fun, informal and sometimes I write things there, too.

This month I shared some photos and reflections on garden altars I was witnessing.

• QUEER MAKERS MARKET | SUNDAY AUGUST 10, 2025 | 11 am - 3 pm | WESTBROOK COMMONS | I am so excited to participate in one of the Queer Makers Markets at Westbrook Commons this summer! For this market, I will have a batch of new ceramic work available alongside prints and paintings. I am easing my way into the market realm and doing what I can within my capacity. I feel grateful to be able to share my art in one of these markets amongst other queer artists and makers. Stay tuned for more details this summer.

• FEASTLAND 2025 | SATURDAY AUGUST 23rd | 6pm | BROADTURN FARM | SCARBOROUGH | I am so honored and excited to collaborate with SPACE Gallery for this year’s Feastland celebration where I will share a painting I made earlier this year alongside other artists, performers, and installations. Coincidentally enough, I made this piece while I was in residence at SPACE in January. So it feels a bit full circle. More details to come! Get your ticket!!

May has come and gone. June is almost over as I write this. I find myself reflecting on this month filled with beauty and love and openness.

Flo and I walked along East Point Sanctuary on the last day of May. They’ve cut down so much of the greenery that I have come to know throughout the years. At first it left me feeling a little sad and nervous, asking myself: what if I never see these things again? And maybe I won’t but I have faith the portaled entrance to the path will regrow, the forest trees, too. As we rounded the corner, walking under what used to be a wave like bush that has been cut, we saw a deer grazing in the field ahead. Beside it, a rainbow.

I thought of my beloved friend Amber. Thought of my mom, of course. And thought about this lucky beautiful moment—walking side by side with Flo, outrunning a storm that never caught up to us, and witnessing miraculous moments in the everyday. Happy Pride. I’m grateful to be here, to make art, to share it with you, and lastly, thank you for reading.