Chateau Orquevaux (part 1): Let’s Talk Residency
I’m alive! Back in the States, finally recovered from a stubborn case of strep (10/10 would not recommend). I’m pretty sure my body just gave up and forced me into rest mode after a month of nonstop magic in France. But here I am, back in the studio, and wow — I have so much to tell you. So much that this is just the first of multiple blogs about it;)
If you’ve been following along on socials, you probably saw that I applied, got accepted (!!), and recently attended my very first artist residency in France. It was hosted in a château on a hill in the tiniest village called Orquevaux, about four hours east of Paris. One plane, one train, and one slightly questionable car ride later, I arrived at what felt like a real-life adaptation of Pride and Prejudice (2005 remake, obviously — cue the piano). It was actual magic. I met soul friends, connected with artists from all over the world, learned so much, and made serious progress in my work.
But let’s rewind for a second —
Why did I even apply?
This past year has been all about finding my style — which, yes, is a very artsy thing to say, but it’s also kind of essential. And maybe you're thinking, “But Janea, you have a style! What exactly are you looking for?” Honestly, great question. I’ve been wanting to push myself — try new (sometimes scary) things, experiment, explore, play. I needed space to strip away the distractions of everyday life and pour all my energy into the work itself.
So I applied for two big reasons:
Because I figured why not — if I never try, I’ll never know what could happen.
Because deep down, I knew I was headed in a direction that didn’t feel 100% true to me… and I needed a hard reset.
Here’s the thing — my short term goal is to grow as an artist and get represented by a gallery I really admire. To prep for that, I’ve been trying to create as much work as I can — build a strong, cohesive body of pieces I can share. And for speed and efficiency? Acrylics made the most sense. They dry fast, they’re super workable, and they helped me move quickly.
But here's what I learned: fast doesn't always mean better.
Acrylics are great, but they don’t suit the way I like to work. I love blending, moving paint around over time, letting things breathe and evolve. I like to mix big batches of color and use them over hours — sometimes days. Acrylics just weren’t giving me that flexibility. I was making choices based on practicality, not creativity.
And that, I realized, was a huge creative block. One I hadn’t even fully seen until I stepped away from the pressure of "produce, produce, produce." I’d been avoiding oils because they take longer to dry — not because I didn’t want to use them. I went with the quicker tool without really asking myself what my art needed most. And as any artist who’s also trying to run a business will tell you... that line is blurry. Constantly.
So yeah — getting that uninterrupted time to return to oils, to chase ideas I’ve been storing in the back of my mind for way too long? Total game-changer.
“Tell me again why you needed to go all the way to France to do this?”
You know when your mom makes one of those stews that just sits on the stove all day? Like, low and slow. And the whole house smells amazing, and you keep lifting the lid even though she tells you not to, because you just know something magical is happening in there? All those ingredients—on their own, they’re fine—but together, given enough time and the right heat, they become something next-level. That’s what it was like.
The château was the big pot. Tucked away in this sleepy little village. Our amazing chef Marie kept us fed us like we were family (honestly, I should’ve gained 50 pounds). The miles of trails, the wildflowers in bloom, the stream that linked us to neighboring towns—all of it was the low, steady heat. It gave us time. Space. The perfect environment to soften, open up, and blend together.
And just like that stew, something beautiful happened—something none of us could’ve cooked up on our own.
So that’s the big-picture heart of it all —
It’s how I ended up in the French countryside, falling back in love with oil paint and reconnecting with the version of myself that creates big, emotional, colorful art. I’m still unpacking (literally and emotionally), but I already know this experience shifted something deep in me — and I can't wait to see where it leads next.
If you're curious about the nitty-gritty — the details of the château itself (spoiler: it’s even more beautiful than the pictures), how I found and applied to the residency, what art supplies I brought, the ridiculous amount of paint brushes I tried to fit in my suitcase, and all the incredible artists I met — don’t worry, I’ve got you. That’s all coming in a separate blog post very soon.
Until then, thanks for being here. It feels good to be home — and even better to be painting again.
