Dear Reader,

This weekend at Cowgirl Up! was a powerful reminder of just how meaningful it is to live with art that carries story, risk, and heart.

As artists, we were invited to preview the exhibition before it opened to the public. Walking into the museum, I was immediately struck by the strength of the work. These women are extraordinary—each piece layered with experience, history, and voice.

And standing among it, I’ll be honest… I felt small.

As I moved through the galleries, I found myself wondering if my work belonged here at all. There’s a vulnerability in placing your work alongside artists you admire—especially in a show of this caliber.

Room after room, I searched.

And then, toward the back, I found it.

Gathering Light.

With a plaque beside it.

First Place in 2D.

In that moment, everything shifted. What began as doubt turned into something much deeper—validation, yes—but also a reminder that the work we feel most uncertain about is often the work that resonates most strongly with others.

Then I noticed a red sticker next to Grace in the Reins.

A quiet but powerful signal.

That’s when I learned the museum had acquired it for their permanent collection.

There’s something profoundly humbling about that kind of recognition. A piece chosen early—before the public arrives, before the noise and attention and by a Smithsonian affiliated institution!. A quiet decision to preserve the work as part of something larger, something lasting.

I didn’t have a polished response to that moment.

I just cried.

Not out of shock alone, but out of the weight of it—the years, the work, the persistence, the uncertainty that always seems to accompany the creative process. It all felt present at once.

The following day brought a different kind of richness.

I reconnected with one of my closest friends from high school—someone who knew me before any of this felt possible. There was something grounding in that, a reminder of where this path began.

Later, I met with a cousin I hadn’t seen since childhood. It felt like looking into a reflection of the past and present at the same time.

Moments like those have a way of softening everything, placing recognition back into the context of relationship and time.

And then came the Quick Draw.

Ninety minutes. A blank surface. A live audience. A poured watercolor created in real time—energy, movement, and instinct guiding every decision.

When the final bell rang, the painting went to auction and found a new home that same day.

There’s something incredibly meaningful about collectors witnessing the creation of a piece and choosing to live with it from its very first breath.

Weekends like this don’t just celebrate art—they affirm the connection between artist and collector. The shared recognition of something that speaks, that holds presence, that endures.

I’ve returned home deeply inspired, already thinking about what comes next in the studio.

And if you’ve ever considered adding a piece of my work to your collection, now is a meaningful time to do so. Moments like this shape the trajectory of an artist’s career—and the work created in their wake often carries that same energy forward.

Thank you, as always, for being part of this journey.

With Grit and Grace,

Leslie

P.S. To view more of the work in the exhibition, please visit https://westernmuseum.org/