June 2026 • What I’m Seeing
I’ve always been gifted with two very different ways of thinking. One is unmistakably artistic. It notices color before composition, atmosphere before function, possibility before practicality. The other is deeply strategic. It enjoys building systems, understanding business, creating structure and imaging how an idea might exist not only as a painting, but as a gallery, publication, a membership or a book. Most months these two sides work together quite harmoniously. This month, however, the artist has taken over.
For weeks after returning from Italy, I found myself far less interested in spreadsheets than sketchbooks. I wasn’t thinking about marketing calendars or production timelines. I wanted to paint. Rearrange the gallery. Read. Wander. Sit with ideas before asking them to become something productive. Which admittedly means this report is arriving later than usual, but I’m finding I’m alright with that and for the exact reasons I’m alright not rushing through a painting or an exhibition.
I’ve learned there is a difference between consistency and obligation. While I value discipline immensely, I never want this report - or any of the work I do - to become robotic transmissions sent simply because the calendar says it’s time. I’d much rather it arrive carrying genuine enthusiasm than perfect punctuality. Looking back, I realize I needed a few weeks to digest the residency. Travel changes me every time, but this experience asked something different. It wasn’t simply about making paintings. It shifted the way I think about building collections, curating exhibitions and even running the gallery itself. Some ideas reveal themselves immediately. Others ask to be lived with before they become clear.
Returning home, there was only one place I wanted to be. The gallery. I’ve often said it’s my favorite room in the world and that felt especially true this month. Rearranging paintings, styling shelves, welcoming familiar faves and simply being present in the space reminded me why I built it in the first place.
Perhaps that’s also why this month’s What I’m Seeing looks a little different. I’ve spent less time looking outward and more time paying attention to what is unfolding right in front of me. Being in the present is its own kind of magic. What I’m seeing is, quite literally, my own creation. The ideas continue to multiply.
One of my favorites has been Beautiful Things, a weekly presentation of objects I believe to possess the rare quality of becoming tomorrow’s heirlooms. Each week I choose pieces from the gallery and share not only what they are, but why Iw as drawn to them, how I might style them in a home or the story that made me bring them into the collection in the first place. Part Forgotten Island, part Kristen Coates, all Beautiful Things. It feels a bit like opening the doors of the gallery to the entire internet.
Alongside that, I’m preparing several new arrivals inspired by Italy, including custom olive oil produced in Sorrento with one of my paintings on the label, a selection of pieces I’ve sourced during my travels and new editions that have been quietly taking shape in the studio. There is also a growing collection of paintings from Ischia that will become Isola, a signed and numbered series I’ll share later this season.
This month I’ve been paying attention to what happens when homes become more collected than decorated. I have always been drawn to this aesthetic but between developing Beautiful Things on Wednesdays and being interviewed for a piece for Martha Stewart, I went into a spiral of a deep dive into this thinking.
Michael and I are making the brave leap to let go of our 300 year old colonial in Newport and embark on a multi-phased renovation of his childhood summer home, Ridgemere Carriage House. Also here in Newport, shrouded in history and of course a bit of historical red tape we are tapping our architect to be part mental gymnast, part marriage councilor (lol) and every bit of the architectural magician he is to make it exactly what we’ve always dreamed it could be. We have quite a bit of a long road ahead of us, but we’re wildly excited and having a lot of fun thinking about how to make it truly our forever home.
In a world increasingly put through filters and produced by AI, I’m noticing a return to design and objects that feel handmade, imperfect and deeply personal. Rooms that don’t announce themselves immediately, but continue revealing details over years. Clients asking less about matching and more about meaning. Galleries becoming gathering places again. People buying fewer things, but better things. Old things mixed with new things, layers expressing personality instead of status.
Perhaps that’s simply where I am. Or perhaps it’s something larger, Either way, I hope it continues.
Let's Talk Art
The best conversations about art happen over coffee, in living rooms, in those quiet moments when someone asks the question they've been holding back.
That's the community I'm building with KRSTN Editions, a place where these conversations happen naturally, without pretense or gatekeeping. Whether you want to understand why a particular work resonates, discuss how to integrate a piece into your home, or explore what you're drawn to and why, I'm here for it.
If anything I've shared intrigues you, studio work, upcoming shows, curatorial direction, reach out. This work is never just about the art. It's about what art makes possible: the conversations, the connections, the moments of recognition when something shifts how you think about your space, your life, your legacy.
Consider this an open invitation. Whether you're already collecting or just beginning, whether you need guidance or simply want to share what excites you, I want to hear from you.
Community gets built one genuine conversation at a time.