Walking into Ellen’s studio at the Torpedo Factory in Alexandria feels like stepping into a world of soft light, vibrant colors, and quiet reflection. Her landscapes breathe with calm energy, holding both the familiar rhythms of rural America and the refined balance of an architect’s trained eye. This month, as we celebrate gratitude, Ellen’s story is one of transformation, persistence, and the deep sense of thanks she carries into her art.
Ellen’s path to painting was anything but direct. “I was an art minor in college, and was trying to figure out what I was going to do for a career,” she recalls. “I really wanted to do something creative, but something that was also a profession where I could make a living.” Architecture provided that structure, but fine art remained the undercurrent pulling at her imagination.
Eventually, that pull became impossible to ignore. “It was about 2014 and I wasn’t terribly happy in my job at the time. I had had some good art sales and was getting more confidence,” she says. Then came a defining moment: “The State Department approached me to buy one of the paintings as a gift from the White House… it was actually purchased by Barack and Michelle Obama to give as a gift.” “It was just one of those things that gave me that extra boost of confidence that maybe I could really do this.”
Her architectural background remains inseparable from her artistic voice. “As an architect, I really had to focus on composition, color, structure, balance… I always say that I look at a painting not as painting exactly what I see in nature, but as more of a design exercise.”
Ellen sees landscapes as more than just vistas, they are also connections. “People make a connection to it and they see my landscapes… they’ll say to me, oh my god, this reminds me so much of where I grew up. And then I find out that they grew up in Oklahoma but I’ve never been to Oklahoma. I love the fact that they make their own connection with my landscapes.”
Shifting from architecture to art wasn’t without its challenges. “Obviously the big challenge is supporting yourself financially,” she reflects. What carried her through was the generosity of colleagues. “An architect friend of mine approached me and said, could you possibly work for me two days a week?.” Another firm soon reached out, offering similar part-time work. “I’m not sure what I would have done if that hadn’t come up because that was really what I needed to support myself financially… I’m thankful for that.”
Gratitude, in fact, is a recurring theme in Ellen’s journey. “I’m really grateful that I have been able to pursue this passion,” she says. “It just seems like the greatest thing that I can spend as much time as I want.” She credits her early painting teachers at the Torpedo Factory for encouraging her to submit to juried shows, and she remains deeply thankful for the supportive community of artists around her.
Her work often reflects that gratitude in subtle, quiet ways. Whether painting farmland in Iowa, red-roofed barns at Sky Meadows, or the shifting light over the Potomac, Ellen’s landscapes hold an understated serenity. “The other thing that people comment on almost every day is this sort of peaceful calming atmosphere of these landscapes. I think especially in difficult times or turbulent times people just appreciate that.”
As Northern Virginia moves into the season of Thanksgiving, Ellen’s work resonates, as an invitation to pause, to notice, and to give thanks. Her advice to others considering their own creative leap is as grounded as it is encouraging: “I think it can be a great idea following your passion. I found it was a life changer for me".
For Ellen, gratitude isn’t only a reflection on the past, but a practice woven into her daily art.
“There’s something really peaceful about landscapes, especially in turbulent times—it gives people a sense of calm.”