
Sixteen years.
I have written those words several times now, and I still find myself staring at them. It’s sort of funny. I usually have to think about how old this business is, because frankly, it doesn’t seem that old. But I began it shortly after my mother passed in 2010. I needed to do something – something bold.
Sixteen years ago, I took a dream that had been living inside me since childhood and decided to see what would happen if I actually gave it a chance.
I wanted an art gallery. Not just a place to sell art, but a place where art could do something good.
A place where artists could be supported.
A place where people could discover their own creativity.
A place where making something could become a doorway into connection, joy, healing, curiosity, conversation and possibility.
And somehow, here we are.
Sixteen years later.
When I look back, the path makes me smile.
I started with a traveling gallery. I brought art into homes, offices, conference rooms and anywhere else someone would let me set up. I used to joke that I was the Tupperware lady of art.
Then, much sooner than I expected, I found a brick-and-mortar space at the Hungerford in downtown Rochester.
Eight years there.
Then a move to East Rochester and the Piano Works Mall.
And somewhere along the way, I opened another little dream too: Greetings 4 Good. (Who doesn’t want to own a greeting card company?!)
There have been greeting cards. Original art. Prints. Workshops. Affirmation decks. Exhibitions. Collaborations. Community events. Messy studios. Beautiful studios. More ideas than I could possibly finish. More paint than any reasonable person probably needs.
There have also been hard things.
There have been years when I wondered if I could keep going.
There have been moments when I overcommitted, overworked, doubted myself, tried to do everything and occasionally wondered why I had ever thought owning a creative business was a good idea.
There have been losses. Deep losses. Losses that rock you. Losses that change you.
There have been so many joys.
There have been seasons when creativity felt effortless and seasons when it felt like I had to dig for it.
There have been moments when I have felt absolutely certain about what I was doing and moments when I felt like I was wandering around in the dark with a paintbrush.
And yet…I kept making.
I kept showing up.
I kept believing that art matters.
I kept believing that people matter.
And I kept believing that a dream doesn’t have to remain a dream simply because it seems too big.
Sixteen years has taught me a great deal. About business. About art. About people. About generosity. About boundaries.
About saying yes. About saying no.
About asking for help. (well, I am working on that one)
About starting over. About letting things change. And, perhaps most importantly, about myself.
I am not the same woman who opened Create Art 4 Good sixteen years ago.
(Thank goodness.)
I have grown.I have become more directed. More curious. More willing to listen to myself. More interested in creating meaningful work than simply creating more work.
And I think I am entering a new era.
I don’t know exactly what it looks like yet. But I can feel it.
There is a little more clarity. A little more courage. A little less need to prove myself. And a much deeper understanding of why I am doing this.
I do this because I love art.
I love the moment when someone who insists they are “not artistic” discovers that their hands know something their brain didn’t know yet. I love the concentration that settles over a room when people are creating.I love the little gasp when someone looks at something they made and realizes, “I did that.”
I love the quiet. I love the mess. I love color and texture and paper and paint and marks and mistakes and happy accidents.
I love the people who make things. And I love the possibility that something we create with our own hands can make the world feel just a tiny bit more beautiful.
That is what Create Art 4 Good has always been about.
Art.
People.
Love.
And doing some good along the way.
So, on this sixteenth anniversary, I want to say thank you.
Thank you to everyone who has purchased a piece of art. Thank you to everyone who has taken a workshop. Thank you to the people who have put one of my cards in the mail. Thank you to the people who have bought an affirmation deck, shared a post, recommended me to a friend, invited me into a community, hung my art on their wall or simply said, “Keep going.”
You have been part of this dream.
You still are.
And because sixteen years feels like something worth celebrating, I want to celebrate it by doing the thing that has always been at the heart of Create Art 4 Good:
Let’s make something.
I am offering a very special anniversary creative experience:
Make Something Good: A 16th Anniversary Celebration
- A 90-minute online creative workshop. (via Zoom)
- $16.
- 16 spaces.
- Sixteen years of Create Art 4 Good.
You bring whatever art supplies you have. I will bring the prompts, encouragement, ideas and a little creative companionship.
We won’t be trying to make perfect art. We will be making something meaningful.
Something that belongs to you. And because Create Art 4 Good was built on the belief that art can do good beyond ourselves, a portion of every registration will continue to support a local nonprofit doing good things.
Sixteen years ago, I had a dream.
Today, I have a life built around that dream.
It hasn’t looked anything like I imagined. It has been harder. It has been better. It has been messier.
It has been infinitely more human. And I wouldn’t trade it.
Here we go. The next chapter is waiting. And I have a feeling there is still a whole lot of art to make.
With enormous gratitude,
Susan
Register Here for the workshop
Create Art 4 Good
Sixteen years of art, creativity, community and doing some good.
Here’s to what comes next. 💜


We do not need any more weight to carry. Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is tell the truth about where we are, to ourselves and to one another. To keep showing up, imperfectly, with open hearts. To lead with love, and when that feels hard, to borrow courage and keep going anyway.





