Painting, drawing and dreaming have always been what I do best. I was fortunate to have a family who believed in the importance of the arts and encouraged me at every turn. When I showed my grandmother a drawing at the age of 8, she said I was an artist. I believed her and set my course. My great-aunt gave me my first real art supplies at 10, which I still have. My mother was an accomplished musician and showed me how to practice and excel.
In high school, I had a very good art teacher, Mrs. Broderson, who further helped to build my confidence. Even though she could not give me good grades for assignments that were turned in late, she declared my work to be good. Time management is still not my strong suit but things have worked out in spite of it.
I have known, for as long as I can remember, that I would one day make a business of art. I waited until our daughters were grown before launching my business because I knew myself and my limitations — I knew that I would not have been the best mother or business owner if I had done both at the same time. So, I waited … even though the waiting was hard. There was the looming fear that I would miss my chance, that it would be too late. But I am here to tell you that it is never too late. I was 50 years old when Mary Gregory Studio began. The timing was perfect, and I have no regrets.
I began using my artwork on a variety of products, such as wall decor, pillows, aprons and notecards. Our youngest daughter, Anna, helped me and we showed at our first wholesale market in Dallas. We got more orders than we could fulfill on our own, and dear friends came to the rescue, folding tea towels, tying twine and packaging cards. If not for them, shops would be waiting for their merchandise to this day.
For the next three to four years, we attended many trade shows in Dallas, Atlanta, and New York. We then added Country Living Fairs, Round Top Antiques Week, and other retail shows to our schedule. That is when things began to shift and I was able to concentrate on fine art, which was always my heart’s desire. We still have wholesale accounts (some of which have been with us since the beginning) but are now only showing at Round Top twice a year and selling online. I am so grateful for all of the past opportunities, but am now appreciative for more time at home and in the studio.
By the second or third year, when we saw that this was a viable business, my husband, David, came on board full time — and it is a good thing he did. The skills that he brought to the business and his hard work have helped us grow and achieve success. He really and truly takes care of all of the hard things that would never get done if left up to me, and I am sure I would have given up if he had not been there to pull us through the difficult times. Working together has had its own challenges, but we have learned and grown into a harmonious team and, even on our worst days, we agree that we would not want to be doing anything else.
My studio was originally a barn where the previous owner stored and worked on his farm equipment. It sits on our 40 acres, just steps from the house, nestled in the live oaks, facing our little pond. When we moved here, it was just a shell of a metal building with a greasy floor. David cleared it out, cleaned it up and added windows, walls and doors, many of which were found and collected on show trips. He has always supported me and my dreams, and this act of love was a big one. I have filled the space with things I love and use and made it pretty and inviting — but it mostly functions as the utility building that it was originally made to be. It is a beautiful, light-filled, hard-working space.
Most mornings start on the front porch lingering over coffee with David. We pray and discuss the day’s doings, then go our separate ways: he to his barn and me to mine. But first, I take a good, long walk with our dog, Mercy, followed by the cats, Spratt and Fern. My walks are of utmost importance to me and to my day. They are as much for exercise as for praying, meditating and seeking beauty.
Our dry, rugged region of Texas is not known for its great beauty, but I find it everywhere, every day. I have learned to see it in the places and things that most people overlook and feel that it is my job to point it out. I end my walk at the studio, where Mercy spends her days with me and is a good helper. She first showed up at our house injured, hungry and scared. Our plan was to find her a good home (not ours) but she fit in so well that here she remains.
I slide the barn doors open and step through the large wooden doors. The morning light shining through the leaded glass window above the doors (a Round Top find), casts rainbows onto everything and I’m greeted by peace and projects that I’m excited to get back to work on.
I notice the morning sounds: birds, bugs, and the breeze as it rustles the trees and makes glitter on the pond’s surface. I marvel at the gift of such a large space in which to work, after so many years of having worked in small corners and tiny spaces. All is well and I can begin the day’s tasks.
I reserve the first part of the day for painting, either pieces that will be for sale or class-related work. I have begun teaching more, in person and online, and am enjoying it immensely. I love sharing what I have learned and am a good encourager. It makes me happy to see the joy that painting brings to others. Then, there are the dozens of other not-so-fun-but-important business and marketing tasks to attend to.
David frames, ships and takes care of a hundred other things as well. Anna does all of the technical and design work that makes our reproductions look as much like the originals as possible, and our daughter Elizabeth helps manage the website and emails. Our two sons-in-law are always willing to step in when needed. Even the grandchildren help — I turn them loose on large canvases and use whatever they create as under-paintings. They have a ball and it keeps me out of any ruts I might get into. This is truly a family endeavor and we are so glad that our girls and their families want to be a part of it.
Painting will always be my first love, but because I like variety and have many interests and much curiosity, I do a lot of experimenting. New ideas are cropping up in my mind continually and I am happiest when giving some of those ideas a try. Generally, after making a few pieces, it is out of my system, and I can go back to my usual work.
Oil, acrylic and watercolor are my favorites, and I find that going from one to the other keeps things interesting and fresh. I tend to use oils on landscapes, birds and animals; acrylics on larger pieces and abstracts; and watercolor for nature journaling and when working away from the studio. Whatever the medium or the subject, I hope the finished painting brings peace and beauty into the world.
This story would not be complete without the telling of the difficulties: David and I have started and run several successful businesses from the time we were 20 years old, so we knew full well what we were getting into — but this one was the hardest, by far. This new business was the first we owned that required so much of me, and I was in for a rude awakening.
The pressures, financial and physical, were relentless for the first five years and there were many times we questioned what we believed to be a calling. The hardships caused many seasons of doubt. But looking back, we have more of an understanding that just because a thing is hard does not mean that it is wrong. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Many of the hardest things, especially the ones that moved us out of our comfort zones, have proven to be the very best and most right things. Much growth, both spiritual and business-wise, results from plumbing the depths — and we tend to avoid doing that when everything is rosy.
If you want to know my formula for success, if there is such a thing, I would say that it is perseverance, plus trust, plus thanksgiving, for both the good and the bad. You do not need to feel it to do it or say it. It still counts! As to the future, we hope to carry on maintaining what we have worked so hard to build and to continue adapting and evolving as needed, because it is never once and done.
Now, the day is done, and I turn at the door to look back inside and breathe a prayer of thanks for the gift of this sacred space, where my prayer is my work and my work is my prayer.
