Lifelong Learning with Melanie Karlins
What this artist and creative mentor is learning about shedding identities, untangling creativity from commerce, and organizing our lives to make space for creative pursuits
I woke up earlier this week with a desire to dive back into a book I reread every five years or so. For many writers, The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron is considered a seminal read, a bible for creative living. One of its main tenets is the idea of morning pages, a daily practice of brain dumping meant to declutter our creative channels and help us push through creative blocks. While I’ve never been a consistent practitioner of morning pages, I absolutely believe in their power. If I simply reached for my journal and pen each morning instead of the NY Times app on my phone, I have no doubt I’d be a less anxious, more centered, creatively generative human.
I pick up The Artist’s Way whenever I feel called to renew my commitment to the goal of creative living, and it seemed fitting that the book should find its way back to me (it was staring at me from atop the nightstand in my sister’s guest room in San Francisco) the very same week I was scheduled to reconnect with creativity guru, Melanie Karlins.
Melanie is many things: artist, small business owner, creative coach (though she prefers the language “mentor” and “permission giver”). Someone solidly devoted to lifelong learning, growth, and expansion.
She’s also wildly creative.
From the beautiful (often hysterical) cards and stationery she makes to the generous online circles she hosts for writers and other artists, Melanie affirms something universal: humans possess an illogical yet profound desire to create.
Her clients, mostly women, come to her for guidance in honoring and making space for this desire. Sometimes it’s as simple as reminding them, “You deserve this time.” As I’ve watched her business grow and morph over the years, I am continually amazed by Melanie’s fierce commitment to creative living. She does not sugarcoat nor minimize the very real challenges of finding time for creativity in today’s outcome-oriented culture, yet she remains a staunch cheerleader for it.
From her words, I hope you’ll find a nugget of inspiration to keep championing your own creative life.
It’s hard to believe we’ve known each other for over 12 years. I first knew you as a printmaker, but your path has evolved in many creative directions. Can you describe your journey?
It’s funny; I’ve been reflecting on how far I’ve come from where I started. My journey began in law school—a very D.C. thing to do. While working in a windowless policy office, I became fascinated with letterpress printing after reading about a graphic designer who found a press in her grandfather's attic. I had no art background, but I loved stationery and was an avid letter writer.
After finishing law school exams, I took a letterpress lesson at a local art center and spent that summer printing at night while lawyering by day. I knew then I didn’t want to be a lawyer. I graduated, passed the bar, and worked in law school admissions, but when I became pregnant, I struggled to imagine balancing work, childcare, and creativity.
At that point, I began teaching printmaking, though I was still a beginner myself. Then, after a conversation with my partner, Eric, I decided to sell the cards I’d been making. I quit my job and started selling at Eastern Market, figuring things out as I went.
So you left law behind, but those early days as an artist weren’t planned. Where did that take you next?
Honestly, I just rode the wave. Selling $100 worth of cards felt huge at first. But I learned quickly—like how summers in D.C. are terrible for outdoor markets or how seasonal demand for greeting cards impacts income. Early on, I relied on social media connections and word-of-mouth. Stores like Pulp on 14th Street reached out to carry my cards, and press coverage led to a big boost in sales.
Still, I was learning the business side of art—trade shows, outreach, and planning for dry spells. Over time, I became more strategic, but it was all trial and error at first.
At some point, your love for stationery evolved into something broader. How did that happen?
It was gradual, but a turning point came during the pandemic. I used to get a creative spark from designing greeting cards—it felt effortless and exciting. But around 2016, that spark dimmed. Burnout and the social climate made it harder to create lighthearted cards. I started brainstorming out of obligation, and it wasn’t fun anymore.
Conversations with a friend—who eventually pivoted to painting full-time—helped me realize I was missing something. That’s when I thought, “I want to write a book.” It was a revelation. Writing sparked the excitement I’d lost.
That shift sounds transformative. But did you feel pressure to stay in the identity of “the greeting card maker”?
Absolutely. Letting go of that identity was hard, especially knowing my story inspired others to start their own creative journeys. People would visit my booth or message me, saying, “Your story encouraged me to start making art.” I didn’t want to let them down, but I realized my identity couldn’t stay tied to one thing.
You’ve also become someone who helps others navigate their creative journeys. How do you describe your role now?
It’s ever-evolving. I think of myself as a permission-granter or mentor, helping people figure out how creativity fits into their lives. That might mean building systems to make life easier or simply validating their desire to create. I want people to know it’s okay to explore different mediums or create without needing to monetize it.
What have you learned about creative roadblocks, both for yourself and others?
They happen to everyone. Often, what we think is a creative block is actually burnout. We try to force creativity instead of stepping back—taking a walk, reading, or doing something restorative. Sometimes, it’s our brain trying to protect us from vulnerability or criticism. Recognizing that can be a powerful step toward moving forward.
A lot of what you’ve done over the last few years seems to center around harnessing people’s creativity. I tried to think of a better verb than "lassoing," but it really feels like you’re creating a space for creativity to thrive. And now, you’ve come up with a new way to keep ourselves creatively energized and, more importantly, organized. So, tell me about the Creative Wilds Index.
Honestly, it felt strange to adopt a tech tool. My tagline when I was making stationery was, “Write more on paper,” and I’ve always been someone who does nearly all my writing in a notebook. It always starts there. But when I had COVID—this was almost two years ago—I couldn’t do anything. I wasn’t sick enough to sleep all day, but I couldn’t read or work. I just didn’t have the attention span for any of my usual creative outlets.
Around that time, I’d just gotten a new iPad and thought, “What tools can I use on this thing?” That’s when I stumbled upon Notion through some YouTube videos. Notion is this flexible all-in-one tool you can use for planning, writing, or organizing databases. But it requires a lot of upfront work to make it function in a way that’s useful for you.
Once I started feeling better, I decided to dive into it, armed with hours of tutorials I’d watched. And it’s been so helpful. I think it’s vital for creatives to manage the non-creative aspects of life—those things that can drain our mental energy. If we can take care of those parts, we create space to be expansive, flexible, and open to creative exploration.
The reality, especially for women, is that much of the mental load and household management still falls to us. Even in equitable partnerships, societal expectations can make us feel that weight. If a system like Notion can serve as a stopgap to ease that load, allowing us to access our creative lives more fully, I’m all for it.
For me, Notion has become a way to offload everything that nags at me—packing lists, grocery needs, even systems for recurring tasks—so I’m not constantly reinventing the wheel. And on the creative side, it’s where I store all my ideas and past projects. It saves me time and mental energy, which is so freeing.
This is perfect for someone like me, who has 15 different systems that I can’t keep track of because I forget about half of them.
Exactly. Notion has been a huge time-saver for me. It frees up so much mental space, and I just want to share that with others.
And you’re offering this system for free. It feels like you’ve downloaded your brain onto a platform to help people like us stay accountable and goal-oriented. What made you decide to give it away?
The Creative Wilds Index is just a small piece of what could be a comprehensive life system. My personal Notion includes a writing dashboard, a reading dashboard, and business standard operating procedures (SOPs), but the index is a starting point for anyone feeling overwhelmed by ideas or struggling to keep them organized.
Our ideas often come at the most inconvenient times, and this system offers a safe space to store them. My hope is that it inspires people to build their own systems tailored to their creative lives. I’m even considering offering system design services for creatives in the future—helping others build something that supports their unique processes. For now, I’m focused on seeing how people use this free tool and what they might need next to support their creative practices.
I love that. What are you learning right now?
Right now, I’m learning about myself more than anything. I’ve realized that the creative spark I used to feel making greeting cards now comes out in my writing. When I write a paragraph I’m proud of or pour out a fully formed essay idea, I feel the most alive creatively.
I don’t have any grand plans to get paid for my writing. I’m not aiming to publish a book or take on freelance work. I just write because I want to. I even started a Substack—not much is on it yet—but it’s a way to share my writing without tying it to commerce. It’s purely about exploration and expression.
At the same time, I’ve been reflecting on my work as a printer and trying to untangle commerce from creativity. Printing feels more like a skill or craft I’ve honed than a source of creative inspiration. I’ve realized I can use printing as a way to support myself financially while letting my writing feed my creative soul. It feels like I’ve come full circle: printing as a skill to sustain me, and writing as the thing that fulfills me.
That’s such a profound distinction—your creativity as both a skill and a calling. It reminds me of something Elizabeth Gilbert said about not quitting your day job unless you absolutely have to. She encouraged people to let their creativity coexist with their other responsibilities, instead of pressuring it to support them financially.
Exactly. I don’t encourage anyone to quit their job unless it’s necessary. For me, leaving my job felt unavoidable. Childcare costs made it financially impractical to work outside the home, but I recognize that’s not everyone’s reality.
Creativity thrives when your basic needs are met. If you can find a way to balance your responsibilities while feeding your creative drive, everything fits together more easily. That’s something I’m still navigating, but I feel more settled in the idea that creativity can look different depending on the role it’s playing in your life.
Have you read anything recently that’s taught you something valuable?
Yes! I recently read The Mother Act by Heidi Grummer. It’s told from the perspectives of a mother and her adult daughter. The mother, an actress, leaves her husband and child when the daughter is young—a perspective we rarely see explored. The book is unapologetic about her choice, and it made me think deeply about the intersection of motherhood and creativity.
I also loved Lady Parts by Deborah Copaken. It’s an honest exploration of women’s healthcare and how it impacts us through the author’s personal experiences. And I just finished Margo's Got Money Problems, which was incredible—highly recommend.
It feels like we’re in a moment of shedding some of those deeply rooted, puritanical beliefs about women. It’s not that we didn’t know these things, but we weren’t ready to confront them. Books like these seem to be bringing those truths to the surface.
Absolutely. These ideas have been shouted from the rooftops for centuries, but now they’re breaking into the mainstream in a way we haven’t seen before. It’s exciting to see that truth-telling happening so boldly.
Learn more about Melanie and her creative mentoring, including the Creatrix Club and the Creative Wilds Index, at invitedbymelanie.com.
You can check out her cards and stationery at greymoggie.com.
Love this!!