Why Creating Art With Like-Minded Artists Matters

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Nothing Beats In-person Workshops.

There’s something powerful that happens when artists come together—not to compete, compare, or perform, but simply to create.

Working in isolation has its place, but spending time with like-minded artists offers something different entirely. It’s where ideas are sparked over conversation, where laughter becomes part of the creative process, and where you’re reminded that you don’t have to figure everything out alone.

When you sit next to someone at the table and hear their story—how they came to photography, why they’re drawn to texture, what they’re wrestling with creatively—you begin to see your own work through a wider lens. Those shared moments often become just as meaningful as the artwork itself.

In creative gatherings, something subtle shifts. You give yourself permission to slow down. To experiment. To take risks you might not take on your own. Watching someone else work, asking questions, and exchanging ideas opens doors you didn’t even know were closed.

This is especially true in immersive workshop environments, where days are filled with photographing, making, and reflecting—and evenings are spent sharing meals, stories, and laughter. These experiences don’t just shape the work you make in the moment; they influence how you approach your art long after you return home.

Over the years, I’ve seen countless friendships form in these settings—connections that continue well beyond the workshop. Artists who return home with renewed confidence, fresh perspective, and a deeper sense of belonging in their creative practice.

Art is often made alone, but it’s strengthened in community. When you surround yourself with people who are curious, generous, and open, your work grows—not because someone tells you what to do, but because you’re supported in discovering your own way forward.

If you’ve been craving connection, inspiration, or simply time and space to focus on your art, consider seeking out experiences that bring you into community. You may be surprised by what—and who—you discover along the way.

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I’ve had so many conversations with artists curious about this workshop that I thought I’d paint a picture for you. So take a deep breath—and come along with me.

After digging that cowboy hat out from the back of your closet—the one you’ve kept because it makes you smile—you pack your bag with your most comfortable clothes and head to the airport, bound for Sheridan, Wyoming.

The moment you land, you notice it: the air feels different. As you walk through the terminal, a flutter of nerves sets in. You wonder about the other participants. Will I fit in? Do I belong here?

Then you recognize someone from the private Facebook group.
“Hi… are you—?”
“Yes.”
You relax a little.

Off to the side, Marie is holding a sign that reads Eatons’ Ranch. Perfect. Your ride has arrived. You relax even more.

The excitement builds as everyone piles into the car and begins sharing bits of their story. There’s time—two full hours—to get to know one another on the drive. Laughter comes easily. Everyone seems genuinely kind. By the time you turn onto Eaton’s Ranch Road, friendships are already forming.

The long, winding road opens onto vast, sweeping landscapes that quite literally take your breath away. Suddenly the car stops. The gate ahead is closed—horses are being released into the pasture beyond. You watch as they thunder past, and your excitement surges. Look at them.

At the ranch office, you stretch your legs. The barn is just ahead, wranglers moving easily through their chores. You’re handed your cabin assignment, then ushered to your home for the next six nights. Inside, a small sitting room welcomes you—warm, simple, and filled with the quiet charm of the old American West.

A note on the bed tells you where to meet the group later, so you head out to explore. Ten minutes into your walk, you stumble upon the mountain pasture. Horses graze peacefully. You didn’t bring your camera, so you simply stand there, present, introducing yourself to a curious roan who lifts his head to study you.

Time slips by. You hurry down the hill to meet the group at Howard Hall by 4:00 pm. You’re grateful you already recognize a few familiar faces.

Howard Hall will be your classroom for the next six days—one area set up for editing and computers, another for working with wax. Introductions begin. Stories are shared. We talk about why we’re here, our experience with encaustic, and the one image we hope to carry home with us.

Clare walks you through how the week will unfold. Then, together, you wander across the lawn to the cozy Apartment Bar for a drink before the dinner bell rings.

Dinner is served at two large round tables, each with a Lazy Susan at the center. Hand-painted napkin rings mark your place. The staff explains the rhythms of ranch life—where to find coffee, meal times, and yes, how many desserts you’re allowed (as many as you want).

Morning arrives crisp and early. At 6:30 am, you gather outside the main house and walk up to the mountain pasture. The light is just breaking as the wranglers begin rounding up the horses. There’s time to talk camera settings, choose positions, and quietly take it all in.

Then you hear it—hoofbeats in the distance. “Here they come!”

Two hundred horses thunder past, adrenaline surging through your veins as you photograph the moment. It’s over in minutes—but you know you’ll remember it forever.

Afterward, everyone compares images on the backs of their cameras, then walks down the same path the horses traveled, guided by the sound of the breakfast bell. The ranch already feels like home.

Later, it’s time to head to the barn for saddle fittings. Everything moves at an unhurried pace. You sit on a long bench, chatting with wranglers and guests, fully settled into ranch time.

Soon you’re mounted, cameras tucked safely into saddlebags, riding out with a young wrangler named Kristen. It’s been years since you last rode, but somehow it all feels right. At Indian Rock, you dismount and photograph Kristen and her horse against a sweeping 360-degree view of the valley. The sun is shining. Your heart is full. This is exactly where you’re meant to be.

Back at Howard Hall, you rush to download images. The room grows quiet as everyone edits. Someone leans over your shoulder and tells you how much they love what they see. You feel the tension leave your body—you got the shot.

Lunch arrives sooner than expected. Conversation buzzes with ideas, troubleshooting, and encouragement. It feels like you’ve known these people for years.

The afternoon brings lessons on creating powerful backgrounds and embedding tissue paper. You finally ask the question that’s been holding you back for so long—and realize you’re not alone. Clare answers generously. It’s only day one, and you’ve already learned so much.

The days unfold in rhythm—photographing, working with wax, laughing on the porch, falling in love with your horse, and laughing until your sides hurt.

When the workshop ends, you’re tired—but deeply energized. You’ve made lasting friendships. You know your paths will cross again. And you promise yourself this: you’ll make time for an in-person workshop every year.

 

 

 

And there you have it—a glimpse into what a week at Eatons’ Ranch can feel like. If something in you is saying yes, I’d love to have you join me. You can find all the details here→

 

 

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What have been your experiences with in-person workshops?  I love to hear what people love about workshops and what they dont.

Be well….be creative,

Clare

 

Learn how photographs, wax, and intuition come together.
View my photo encaustic classes, courses, and workshops.