January always feels quieter in the best way.
The decorations come down, the calendar clears a bit, and there’s this collective exhale that happens after the holidays. I don’t feel the urge to overhaul everything, but I do crave small resets. Clearing surfaces. Letting more light in. Swapping a few things that suddenly feel heavy for pieces that feel calm and familiar.
That’s usually when I start thinking about art.
Not in a big, dramatic way. More like noticing what I see every day as I walk through our house. The hallway I pass a hundred times. The corner of the living room where the light hits in the late afternoon. The little spots that set the tone for the day without asking for attention.
That’s the role my Charleston photography prints play in our home.
Charleston doesn’t really belong to a season. The colors, the architecture, the light. It all feels steady and grounding, which is exactly what I want this time of year. A palm-lined street. A quiet stretch of marsh. A pastel house that makes you pause for a second longer than planned.
These are the scenes I’m drawn to photographing again and again. And they’re the same ones I love living with on our walls.
January is when I’m most likely to move a print from one room to another. A frame that lived in our bedroom might feel better in the hallway. A piece that felt busy during the holidays suddenly feels just right once everything else is pared back. It’s not about buying something new as much as being intentional about what stays.
When I’m editing photos or choosing which images to release as prints, I’m always thinking about how they’ll live in someone’s home. Will this feel calming at the end of a long day? Will it still feel good months from now? Will it quietly remind you of a place you love, or a trip you’re dreaming of taking?
That’s also why I’m drawn to softer palettes, simple compositions, and moments that feel lived-in rather than postcard-perfect. Charleston has plenty of grand views, but the magic is often in the in-between. A door you pass on a morning walk. A house you’ve admired for years but never photographed until the light was just right.
If January has you craving a reset without starting from scratch, art is such an easy place to begin. One print. One frame. One small shift that changes how a space feels.
And if you’re local, missing Charleston, or simply drawn to its charm, bringing a little piece of it into your home can be a way of carrying that feeling forward as the year unfolds.
Lowcountry Musings will be a place where I share more of these moments. The stories behind the photos. The places that inspire my work. The small ways I try to slow down and notice beauty here. I’m so glad you’re here at the beginning of it.