We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Stephanie Bell a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Stephanie, appreciate you joining us today. Can you open up about a risk you’ve taken – what it was like taking that risk, why you took the risk and how it turned out?

The Edge of Art and Life: A Journey Beyond Fear

There was a time in my life when devastation cast a shadow over everything. I couldn’t see a way forward, couldn’t fathom how to untangle the overwhelming mess before me. I had been taught, like so many of us, to fear moments like these. Fear whispers in your ear, warning you to shield yourself, to retreat into safety, to avoid pain at all costs. And so, like anyone conditioned by fear, I tried to minimize risk, to defend myself against the hurt that seemed inevitable.

But something about that path felt lifeless. My instincts as a painter told me differently.

In painting, I’ve always known that minimizing risk never leads to greatness. The magic of art—the Art with a capital “A”—is born in the unknown. It doesn’t live on what I call the “comfort zone sofa.” That’s where mediocrity settles, where predictable and stifled creations stagnate. True art demands boldness, a willingness to feel the edge of discomfort and dive headfirst into it.

So one day, I decided to treat my life as I treated my painting. The devastation I faced became my blank canvas. I realized that if I could abandon fear in the studio, I could abandon it in life too. Fear might feel safe, but safety is a hollow victory. I chose love instead—love for the process, for the risk, for the possibility of magic.

Choosing love wasn’t easy. It meant I had to leave the comfort zone sofa behind. Every day, I felt the edge of the unknown pressing against me, its sharpness a reminder of what I stood to lose. But the only way forward was to embrace it, to leap into the uncharted territories of risk, uncertainty, and transformation.

Over time, I began to see the fruits of this practice. Just as a painting blossoms into something serendipitously beautiful when you let go of control, life began to reveal moments of magic when I surrendered to love. The goal I had been striving for wasn’t handed to me—it emerged, piece by piece, as I encountered and overcame the unknown.

Through these experiences, I developed a process—a way to navigate life and its edges with the same bravery I bring to a canvas:
1. Feel into the Goal
Before anything else, I would focus deeply on what I truly wanted to achieve. Not what fear told me to aim for, but what love inspired in me.
2. Slow Down
Life moves quickly, but clarity demands slowness. I practiced mindfulness and meditation, pausing to feel every thought, every emotion. By slowing down, I could discern what was truly guiding me.
3. Filter Through Love
Every thought and every action, no matter how small, passed through one simple filter: Was this a choice born of love or fear? If it was fear, I let it go. If it was love, I embraced it.

This wasn’t a one-time decision. It was a daily practice, an intentional way of living. Every choice—every brushstroke in life’s painting—either brought me closer to or farther from the magic. And magic only ever appeared when I chose love, when I dared to leap into the unknown.

The truth is, fear only ever takes us back to the comfort zone sofa. But love? Love takes us to the edge, and then beyond it, to a life painted with the bold strokes of risk, courage, and wonder. That’s where the real Art happens.

Stephanie, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

The Gallery I Always Needed

I’ve been an artist for as long as I can remember. Art was never a choice for me; it was simply who I was. For years, though, I struggled with the same dilemma so many artists face: how to get my work out into the world. I used to imagine that someone—a gallerist, a curator, or maybe a collector—would stumble upon my work and rescue me from obscurity. But life doesn’t work like that, especially in the art world.

The truth is, even the most impressive art rarely gets “discovered.” Art isn’t plucked from obscurity; it needs to be seen. It needs to be presented to people, galleries, art fairs, and communities. When I finally let go of the fantasy of being rescued and decided to take matters into my own hands, doors started opening. I reached out to galleries in New York City and Mexico, and to my surprise, it worked. My art found a home on their walls, and I was finally being seen.

The lesson was simple but profound: if you don’t ask, you don’t get.

But the more I navigated the gallery world, the more disillusioned I became. Many galleries operated like gatekeepers, treating both artists and their work as commodities. They were interested in my art, but only insofar as it could make them money. My voice—the story behind my work—was often sidelined, filtered through the lens of a gallerist or curator who decided what my art was “about.”

I began to resent the system. Art, to me, had always been something far greater than a product to sell. It was a lifeline, a form of healing, and a way to connect deeply with others. The gallery system I encountered wasn’t built for that. I realized I didn’t just want something different—I needed it.

So I created the gallery I always wished had represented me.

Sesshin Art Gallery wasn’t born out of business ambition; it was born out of a desire to reimagine what a gallery could be. I wanted a space where artists weren’t commodities but storytellers. Where their voices could be heard directly, unfiltered by gallerists or curators. I wanted to showcase not only their work but their humanity—their struggles, triumphs, and the deeply personal stories that shape their art.

One of the cornerstones of Sesshin Art Gallery is the Art Forum Talks. These are more than just openings; they are conversations. I sit with artists and interview them, bridging the gap between the creator and the viewer. It’s not about selling art; it’s about sharing human experiences and exploring how art serves as therapy, healing, and, for many of us, a lifeline.

This gallery is my response to everything I felt was missing in the art world. It’s a space where art is more than a commodity, where the connection between artist and audience takes center stage. Sesshin Art Gallery isn’t just a place to show work; it’s a place to give voice to the profound ways art shapes and heals us.

I didn’t wait for someone to create this gallery for me. I built it myself, because artists deserve more. We deserve to be seen, heard, and understood. This gallery is the space I always dreamed of—and now it exists for all of us.
Why Sesshin Art?

The name Sesshin Art wasn’t chosen lightly; it reflects the very soul of what I wanted this gallery to be. Sesshin is a Zen term that translates to “touching the heart-mind.” It describes an intense period of meditation and focus, a time for deep reflection, transformation, and connection to one’s true self.

This is exactly what I aim to create with Sesshin Art Gallery: a space where art goes beyond the visual and touches something deeper. Every event, every exhibit, and every conversation here is designed to guide people—not just to see art, but to feel it, to connect with it, and to explore how it resonates within their own lives.

In Zen, sesshin is about bridging the gap between the mind and the heart, uniting thought and emotion into a singular experience. Similarly, Sesshin Art Gallery exists to bridge the gap between artist and viewer. Through our forum talks, workshops, and exhibits, we create moments where art becomes a language of shared humanity, where it sparks healing, insight, and connection.

Choosing the name Sesshin Art was my way of honoring this philosophy, of grounding the gallery in a purpose that’s not just about showcasing work but about touching the heart-mind of everyone who walks through its doors.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?

When I was pursuing my master’s degree at the Academia de San Carlos in Mexico City—the oldest art school in the Americas—I found myself deeply disillusioned. I was only 21, far too young to have truly lived, and I felt that I hadn’t yet discovered my voice in art. I questioned my decision to undertake such a profound commitment so early in life, unsure of what I wanted to express or how to express it.

In search of clarity, I went back to basics and enrolled in a 101 figure drawing class. One day, I found myself sitting at a large, empty table in the vast hall where the class was held. Moments later, a group of differently-abled children from a nearby school came in and sat beside me. As the drawing session began, I fell back on what I had always been taught: constructing the figure through circles, rectangles, squares, light, and layers of pentimenti. My hand moved methodically, following years of formal instruction.

But as I glanced at the children next to me, I saw something entirely different. They didn’t rely on techniques or academic methods. They just drew. With bold, immediate strokes, they captured the essence of the body without hesitation or overthinking. When they finished, they simply put their pencils down, as if the process had served its purpose, and they were ready to move on. Their drawings were raw, powerful, and full of life.

In contrast, my own work felt stiff and overthought, as did most of the other drawings in the room. But their art? It had something intangible, something I didn’t yet understand. Looking back, I now call it Art with a capital A—the kind of work that breathes magic.

Years later, after finishing my master’s degree, I still hadn’t found my voice. Determined, I returned to figure drawing, this time at Watts Atelier in Encinitas, a European-style art school focused on classical skill-building. I approached it with the same academic mindset, trying to master the techniques and understand the teachers’ methods for “arriving at the body.”

But one day, during a warm-up session, something shifted. I was tired—tired of rules, tired of trying, tired of not feeling like myself. So I abandoned the techniques I’d been taught and simply drew the way I wanted to. Suddenly, the drawings came alive. They felt free, expressive, and full of the magic I had glimpsed years ago in that classroom in Mexico City.

I compared this to the work I created when adhering to the skill-based approach. That work felt controlled, stiff, and devoid of life. The difference was undeniable.

Around that time, I began studying Zen Buddhism, and it all clicked. When I let go of worrying about the outcome and immersed myself fully in the process, I was practicing Buddhism through art. It was about presence, about being in the moment, about creating with love and not fear. When I focused on technique alone—driven by the societal pressures to achieve a “perfect” result—I was trapped in fear, detached from the joy and spontaneity of creation.

I realized that art made from love—the kind that honors my process, my feelings, and my authentic self—always carried magic. Art made from fear—driven by outcomes, rules, and external expectations—did not.

This understanding transformed my practice. Every time I draw or paint, I approach it as a meditation, a process rooted in presence and love. It’s not always easy, and it takes practice to quiet the fear-driven voice that demands perfection. But I’ve learned that only by embracing the process can I unlock the magic of art.

Now, whether I’m in a class, in my studio, or guiding others, I carry this lesson with me. It’s not just about creating art—it’s about touching something deeper, something true, and finding the magic that comes when you let go and simply be.

How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?

What Society Can Do to Support Creatives and Artists

Art is far more than decoration or entertainment. At its core, art is healing. It is therapeutic. It reconnects us to our original selves—the parts of us that are authentic, expressive, and deeply human. Making art isn’t just about creating “pretty pictures”; it’s about self-discovery, connection, and transformation. It’s a lifeline for many, a way to process emotions, heal trauma, and find meaning in life.

If we truly understood the profound importance of art, we would do much more to support it. Supporting creatives and artists isn’t just about funding galleries or commissioning murals; it’s about valuing the process of creation as essential to the well-being of individuals and communities.

Here’s what society can do to uplift artists and ensure art continues to thrive:
1. Invest in Arts Education
Schools should prioritize art programs as much as they do math, science, and athletics. Art teaches critical thinking, emotional intelligence, and creative problem-solving—skills that benefit every aspect of life. Providing access to materials, classes, and mentorship ensures that the next generation has the tools to express themselves and find their voice.
2. Create Accessible Spaces for Art
Public spaces like parks, community centers, and libraries should host exhibitions, workshops, and performances. Artists need affordable spaces to work and showcase their creations, and communities benefit from the shared experience of interacting with art.
3. Support Mental Health Through Art Programs
Recognize the therapeutic value of art by funding programs that use art to address mental health challenges. From veterans processing trauma to children building confidence, art therapy has proven to be transformative.
4. Provide Funding and Grants
Financial barriers often prevent artists from pursuing their work full-time. By offering grants, stipends, and sponsorships, we empower creatives to focus on their art without the constant stress of financial instability.
5. Celebrate Local Artists
Communities thrive when they celebrate the unique voices of local creatives.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://Sesshinart.com
• Instagram: Sesshinart
• Facebook: Sesshinart
• Linkedin: Stephanie Bell
• Youtube: Sesshin Art
• Other: https://youtu.be/7IhA0_27nBk

Image Credits

Jesika Scott