By the Numbers: A Small Creative Business Year in Review

If you had told me at the beginning of this year how it would end, I probably would’ve laughed, cried, stress-cleaned something unnecessarily, and then immediately needed a nap. This small creative business year in review is equal parts chaos, exhaustion, joy, fear, and hands-down the most rewarding season of my life and business...sometimes all before noon.

So before we officially close the book on this chapter (and light a candle for our nervous systems), here’s a little recap of what happened when I decided to go all in on myself.

By the Numbers

(Because apparently I thrive in controlled chaos and emotional spreadsheets)

• 84 art classes held

• 35 market days attended

• Hundreds of projects painted (canvases, ornaments, door hangers, boards, and more)

• Thousands of cards folded and stickers cut

• 1 corporate job quit

• 1 Best of Georgia Award won for Art Classes & Workshops

• Too many menty b’s to count (but we persevered)

And that’s just what can be measured. The emotional mileage, however, is incalculable.

The Big Leap

This was the year I quit my “safe” job and took the leap into running Gearhart Design Co. full time. No backup plan. No safety net. Just a lot of faith, a paintbrush, and a slightly unhinged level of confidence that this thing could work.

Spoiler alert: it did, but not without late nights, early mornings, mental breakdowns, happy tears, and more wine than I care to admit (or log).

The Classes, the Chaos, the Community

Eighty-four classes means eighty-four nights of loading supplies, setting up tables, teaching beginners, cheering people on, and watching strangers walk out proud of something they created. It means laughter, spilled paint water, rogue paintbrushes, and so many “I didn’t think I could do this” moments, which might be my favorite sentence in the English language.

35 days of markets means early mornings, late nights, long days, sore feet, and explaining for the hundredth time what I do (yes my personality really is this unhinged), but it also means meeting new customers, reconnecting with regulars, and seeing people light up over something I made.

None of this happens in a vacuum. I owe so much to the breweries, shops, venues, fellow artists, friends, and family who showed up for me again and again, sometimes with help, sometimes with snacks (or beer), sometimes with emotional support texts at midnight. You know who you are, and I truly could not do this without you.

The Win I Didn’t See Coming

Winning a Best of Georgia Award for Art Classes & Workshops still doesn’t feel real. This was never about trophies or titles, it was about creating something meaningful, accessible, and fun, but that recognition meant the world. It felt like a giant, glittery “keep going” from the universe.

What This Year Taught Me

• Growth is uncomfortable, but staying stuck is worse.

• Rest is not a reward; it’s a requirement (one day I’ll actually remember this).

• Saying yes to myself meant saying no to a lot of things that no longer fit (including cutting off toxic people from my life that yucked my yum).

• Community matters more than perfection (and perfection is overrated anyway).

• We are all capable of far more than we give ourselves credit for, especially on days when we feel like hot messes.

Looking Ahead

I’m heading into the new year tired, grateful, inspired, and more excited than ever. There are new ideas brewing, new classes planned, new products coming, and so much more room to grow, but for now, I’m taking a moment to pause, breathe, and appreciate just how far this little business (and I) have come.

If you’ve taken a class, bought a card, shared a post, sent encouragement, or cheered me on quietly from the sidelines, thank you. You’re a part of this story more than you know.

Here’s to the mess, the magic, and whatever comes next in 2026.