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NEWSLETTER FROM THE STUDIO OF RAQUEL P MILLER ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏
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DEC NEWSLETTER FROM THE STUDIO OF RAQUEL P MILLER
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As I write this, the first real snow of the season is falling. As I rounded up images and thoughts and events to share for this newsletter, I am able to witness and reflect on the time in between my last. Last I wrote, it was the cusp of September and the air was still warm, yet cooling each day, and the first signs of Fall were here. It’s a given, but another thing to feel it, to see it, and to accept it: my life is changing and so am I. And more than ever, I find myself sitting with the weight of that, still grappling with the fear that comes with it for me, but more unfamiliar—the joy and acceptance of it. What if I leapt and let the universe be my net? I pulled a tarot card a few weekends ago, after a long bout of no readings, and a line from one of my cards is still sitting with me: “Linearity is a vehicle to narrow and confine. Hunger for control, productivity, and certain outcomes prevents and even destroys the possibility for spontaneity, true opportunity, and surprise.” With fondness, I am pulled through the days and months responding to the seasons to ground me, but most of my life is spent organizing my life in planners, lists, and calendars. There is only so much I can control, and I do believe in a balance in that, and embracing it so that we can live fuller lives. But I was humbled by those words as they reminded me that there are some things we simply cannot plan for. Life will still life and nothing is as certain as change (and death?). Yet, love lies in accepting risk in the way where we might leap and let the universe, someone, or our ourselves be our net. After the close of Memories to Give in October, I found myself more drained than ever. And still, I felt so proud of what we accomplished for the show and in some ways, that was what propelled me forward. But organizing the show required a lot of time, organization, and energy on physical, mental, and emotional levels. It was a really vulnerable experience and required a lot of me in ways I had not experienced before. In that, I found myself realizing a lot of my own ways of being I did not have words or awareness for in the past. In a lot of ways, I am still processing where that left me and processing what I “want” now. I had to accept that with my time, I want and need to become really thoughtful about who, what, where, and when I spend it. Its been asking of me to assess my values and ask myself what is important, acknowledge my nature to want to do everything, and urge myself to take a moment to pause to see that is not always possible. And if so, what can I let go of? If there is give, where? If something is not “perfect”, ask myself, why I believe it isn’t and then ask myself, “what if it isn’t perfect and yet, it can still be enough.” And maybe even more than. December is here and I made it through all of my deadlines. I have new work I am proud of. I am tired, but on the other side of a lot of hard work having learned a lot of lessons from it. I’m hoping I continue to remember them as I move into the new year so that I can align myself in ways that feel good to me. And also give myself grace if I fall into an old habit. More than anything, I feel very happy. And I feel proud of all I have accomplished, both in the ways I share in this newsletter—mostly about my art and process, but in my life. I talk about grief all the time. But to acknowledge and accept the depth of my losses and the real obstacles I’ve had to overcome, and continue to, is another thing entirely. But through the ways I move through the world, this year has provided me the unique opportunity to really see and feel how much I’ve grown, and to see myself in ways I told myself I never could be. Parts of it feel vastly strange and unfamiliar, but it also feels very grounding and real. For that, I am so grateful. Happy December to you all. Move as slowly as you can through it, savoring what you need. And if you’re like “please, let’s get this year over with already...” I hope January comes swiftly and offers you a fresh start.
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✷ THREE NEW PAINTINGS IN SWS2025✷
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Pictured and linked left to right: “Mussel shell in the Sand", “Sand Dollar Palm”, and “Big Things (Altar Scene” I am really happy to share three new 5” x 7” works, created in November of this year, to include in Gallery B’s Annual Small Works Show. This show comprises 2 groups of artists, making art at 2 small sizes for 2 fixed prices —5 x 7 inch art by 84+ artists @ $220 and 10 x 8 inch art by 8 artists @ $325.
All paintings ship free this year, and are available until December 20th. Gallery Hours: Thursday - Sunday, 10-4 gallery b, 5 Main Street, Castine, Maine 04421 gallerybsmallworks.com
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✷ “Moon Altar (A place to remember)” in Collecting the Now, an 82 Parris Auction ✷
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My painting “Moon Altar (A place to remember)” is included in 82 Parris’s Annual Year End Auction—Collecting the Now, with proceeds directly supporting programming. I was so grateful to be able to have the opportunity this year to share my work alongside one of my best friends, Esper Gaspardi for our October duo-show Memories to Give at 82 Parris. I’ve only shared this piece one other time, and up until now it has lived pretty off the grid. It’s a chance to collect one of my first fabric paintings, framed with care by the folks over at Saco Frame Center, while directly supporting artist run spaces like these whose work directly supports artists like myself and Esper. DEC 1st - Auction Preview is LIVE DEC 6th - Bidding opens 7am to 7pm & in-person reception from 4-7pm at 82 Parris in Portland
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✷ NEW ORNAMENTS, MAGNETS, POSTCARD PACKS, CARDS, & MORE!!!✷
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I have worked tirelessly to create new works and professional, cute packaging for each of the pieces included in these two in-person, multi-day markets this year: MADE: Maine Makers Market at Ticonic Gallery + Studios in Waterville Creates (Waterville, ME)HOURS: Wednesday November 12th - Monday January 26th, 2026 Open daily, 11am–7pm, closed Tuesdays and federal holidays the 2025 Holiday Pop Up Shop at SPACE Gallery (Portland, ME) HOURS: Friday, December 5th - Tuesday, December 23rd, 2025 December First Friday Art Walk/Opening: 5-8pm Thursday and Friday: 12-6pm and Saturday: 12-4pm. Additional dates by chance. ✷PAINTINGS✷ CERAMICS✷ PRINTS✷ Work includes: ceramic butterfly ornaments, ceramic flower and altar magnets, postcard packs, freshly handprinted cards and card packs, framed 8”x 10” paintings, ceramic altar pins, sticker packs, and more.
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My studio practice has looked a lot like: cleaning out my moldy sta-wet paint palette so that I can begin paintings for Small Works Show at Gallery B; trying not to splash paint/staining my ceramic vase that now sits on my desk; creating an impromptu table out of a cardboard sheet over my staircase in my studio so that I can let the e6000 cure for my 72 ceramic flower magnets; ordering the wrong sized poly sleeves three different times for cards; realizing these said cards and envelopes are in a size I never want to work with again but have about 300 envelopes to work through before I can do that; designing product packaging for the first time ever; 6 hour ceramic studio sessions where I thought I would get home at 10 and really, I got home at 12:30; reminding myself what it is like to paint on panel again; trying a new color palette for my paintings; creating physical mockups out of a heinous green cardstock that I now feel like has a purpose in my studio (mockups); creating digital sketches in Procreate to help me figure out my next steps in my paintings; treating myself to a paper cutter; becoming besties with Canva; taking so many photos; writing list after list; and finally, one day, dropping off work at a final stop and realizing, I did it.
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Left to Right (Studio Colors): 1. my paint palette as I created my SWS25 paintings, 2. my calendar I used to try to stay on top of each deadline this month
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Left to right: 1. Rebecca Goodale at her talk at the new Crewe Center for the Arts at USM; 2. me in front of Isabella Rotman’s illustration at the opening of the Great State of Illustration in Maine at Falmouth Memorial Library; 3. Eliza Goodwin’s urn “The Terns” at 82 Parris’s November group show opening of The Veil; 4. Jordann McKenna’s painting at her solo show opening “The Color Between Days” at 82 Parris.
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A digital painting from the end of the summer: “Two girls swimming,” 2025.
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Wow. What a whirlwind of making and glazing these past two months have been. As I emerged from the work of putting together Memories to Give, I was greeted with the reality: I had signed up for markets this winter, and needed to make work, within tight deadlines. My butterfly ornaments were created for both MADE and SPACE’s pop up shops and in total, I made 24 ornaments, in 3 different designs. I created a glaze key to remember which glazes made specific combinations, and I made a glaze map with photos and notes to note where each layer should roughly be for each butterfly glaze design. Each butterfly had a minimum of three colors, in over 10 distinct patterns and arrangements, that needed to be applied in coats of 2. For one butterfly, my glaze brush can apply anywhere from 50 to 60 distinct layers of glaze. With 24 butterflies, that is at minimum 1200 individual applications of glaze for the entire 24 batch. And because I am me, I also made 72 ceramic flower magnets. 12 of which, following that same glaze process. I just added more photos of these butterflies after calculating that because wow… I am proud of ME! They look SO GOOD and I want to show them off. 12 of them are going to be at SPACE, 12 at MADE, and I hope they fly to a new home this holiday season. I’ve also been commissioned to make two sets of plates and have been living plate city for the last two weeks. One thing I will say is that both of these clay projects have incorporated processes that I continue to refine. And while labor intensive, it’s so satisfying to witness and experience the ways I am growing and learning, and honing my craft. And for that, I am so grateful.
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Memories to Give closed at the end of October at 82 Parris. In some ways, I feel like I was able to share the culmination of work spanning from 2024 to now and yet, it also feels like the work and spirit and themes are all in a slumber-like hibernation, waiting to emerge again in the metaphorical spring. Will they? I feel certain they will. I spent an evening pulling out each “memory” shared in our interactive piece. So many heartfelt, vulnerable, aching, and tender memories and dreams shared, and I feel so honored to have opened this space as an altar and portal to access these memories, hold them, and let them go, and that visitors felt safe enough to share. I never imagined the depths of some of these memories, almost like confessions, or exhalations, and I hope if anything, this vessel holds all our memories collectively, lightening the weight and pain together.
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Thank you all for perusing my many photos and reading to the end. I would like to say I might get another newsletter out but in all honesty, I probably won’t until the new year! I’m eager to slow down. I’m eager to rejuvenate my spaces so that I feel even closer, and more at home. I want the slow mornings, and I want soft afternoons in the studio with the afternoon light shining in through my gauzey white curtain. I want to dream and build. I want to explore my notes and lists, and I want to dedicate myself to seeking out joy I dreamed of for myself. I want to share time with my friends and family and love. So, until next time friends. What do you want more of this month as we move into the new year? Write to me. Like the fern vessel, may we release our dreams as exhalations and whispers, and watch as we make more room to breathe.
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