What’s Behind the Art: Preparing for my New Show – "Reflections in Color"

Over five months, thirty-two paintings emerge landscapes rooted in memory, and contemporary works driven by instinct. Some came easily. Others demanded patience, revision, and a willingness to push into unfamiliar territory.

Staging, prepping, new supplies, at times I feel like I’m in a dance marathon, weaving a palette of colors between traditional landscapes to bold contemporary creations.  The paint flows accordingly through the vibes of the Beach Boys, Doobie Brothers to Simply Red.  Then there are subtle moments when simply listening to an inspirational message is the fodder for the day. 

Titles began to appear along the way Defining Moment, What’s the Forecast, Just Beyond Sunset. Each one felt less like a label and more like a reflection of where I was in the process. 

But somewhere in the middle of all that work, another realization surfaced.  Creating the paintings is only part of the experience.  Helping someone find the right painting, that’s something entirely different and where the art truly begins!

The Work Behind the Work
Preparing for a show like this is a process most never see.

Every piece is cataloged, photographed, wired, and positioned. Invitations go out in layers, some broad, some deeply personal to collectors who have followed the journey and are eager to see what’s next.  And then comes the challenge of bringing it all together.

Hanging a show isn’t just about filling walls, it’s about creating flow. One painting has to lead naturally into the next. Color, scale, light, and spacing all have to work together so that the room feels intentional, not overwhelming.  Even pricing, placement, and lighting play a role in helping someone move from simply looking,  to truly connecting.

A New Way to Experience the Work
At the same time this collection was taking shape, so was something else.  The new williammangum.com website.

Not as a gallery, but as an experience.  A place where, even before stepping into the studio, someone can begin to sense what kind of work speaks to them. Where navigating the collection feels natural. Where finding the right piece doesn’t feel overwhelming but intuitive.

Because the truth is, most people aren’t just looking for art.  They’re looking for something that reflects a memory, a feeling, a moment they don’t want to lose.  And when that connection happens, it rarely needs explanation.  As I often say, the right piece speaks before it explains itself.

When It All Comes Together
There’s always a moment usually late, when the room is quiet—when everything is finally in place. The paintings are hung. The lighting is right. The space begins to breathe and you realize something important.

This isn’t about presenting what I’ve created. It’s about what someone else is about to discover.

An Invitation
If you’ve ever walked into a room and felt like something was missing  or found a piece of art that made you stop without knowing why, then you already understand what this show is about.

I would love for you to experience Reflections in Color—whether online or in person.

You can preview the collection here:

And if something catches your eye, or you’d like to receive an invitation to the show or schedule a private viewing, simply reach out. Joy and I would be glad to help.  Because sometimes the right piece isn’t something you go looking for.  It’s something that finds you.

joy@williammangum.com

 Where Wisdom Finds Its Way Home

The room had just begun to quiet when the energy shifted. You could feel it before you saw it the subtle pause between courses, the anticipation of what was coming next. My painting had just been placed under the lights at the Spiro Ball, and for a moment, it felt like time slowed.

I had chosen this particular piece for a reason. It wasn’t just a painting, it was a reflection. Years ago, during my time at University of North Carolina at Greensboro, I was always drawn to Minerva, the enduring symbol of wisdom and guidance that quietly watches over the campus. That connection stayed with me. So much so that in my own backyard, I’ve placed a sculpture inspired by Minerva statue at UNCG, originally created by my friend, the gifted sculptor Jim Barnhill. In my garden, she stands over a koi pond, pouring forward—an image that has come to represent wisdom shared, not kept.

That evening, I shared that story briefly before the auctioneer began. And then  it happened.

The bidding started gently, then quickly took on a life of its own, hands rose, voices followed. What began as interest turned into something far more spirited almost as if the room understood the deeper meaning behind the piece. Back and forth it went until, with a resounding crack of the gavel, it was done.

A woman in the back row had made the final bid. Moments later, I found her to say thank you, not just for the purchase, but for what it represented. That’s when I met Glenda Schillinger, a fellow alum whose life’s work has been devoted to serving others through her foundation, healthcare service, and advocacy for women and children. In that moment, the painting found exactly where it was meant to go.

Three Reflections Worth Holding Onto

The things that move us most often come full circle
What begins as a quiet impression, a statue on campus, a moment in passing can take root in ways we don’t fully understand at the time. Years later, those same impressions resurface, not just as memories, but as inspiration to give something meaningful back.

Art becomes powerful when it carries a story beyond itself
A painting on a wall can be beautiful. But a painting with meaning one tied to memory, purpose, and shared experience becomes something more. That night, it wasn’t just about the image of Minerva. It was about what she represents: wisdom, generosity, and the passing of knowledge from one life to another.

Generosity has a way of recognizing itself
There’s something remarkable about how the right piece finds the right person. Glenda’s life has been defined by service, compassion, and impact. In many ways, she embodies the very spirit of Minerva. It felt less like a transaction and more like a moment of alignment where intention met purpose.

A Thought to Carry With You

Sometimes the most meaningful things we create are not meant to stay with us. They’re meant to move through us finding their way into the hands and hearts of others who will carry the story forward in ways we never could.

And perhaps that’s the quiet beauty of it all… When something is created with purpose, it rarely ends where it begins.

More Than a Round of Golf: A Privilege That Became a Purpose

The first time I stood on a North Carolina fairway as a member of the North Carolina Golf Panel, I remember thinking… this is more than golf.

It was early morning, the kind where the light stretches slowly across the landscape, revealing details you’d miss any other time of day. A few of us stood on the tee, coffee in hand, exchanging stories before the round some laughter, a little good-natured debate about rankings, and an unspoken understanding that we were part of something special.

Years earlier, I had been invited by the late and great Tim Kent, and I don’t think he fully knew what that invitation would come to mean. What began as a privilege quickly became a passion, one that blended naturally with my work as an artist. It wasn’t long before I realized this experience wasn’t just something to enjoy, but something to share. That led me to collaborate with Kevin Brafford, and together we created Classic North Carolina Golf Courses, capturing on canvas what so many only experience in passing.

Over time, the camaraderie deepened, friendships formed, and I found myself inviting others into the journey, knowing what it could offer them. Recently, seeing our collective efforts recognized in Business North Carolina magazine was a reminder that when passion and purpose align, the impact reaches further than you ever imagined. Read about the TOP 100 NC GOLF COURSES

Three Reflections from the Fairway

Privilege Becomes Purpose When You Share It
Being part of the panel is an honor. But the real reward came when I stopped keeping it to myself. Inviting others, whether through collaboration, friendship, or storytelling, multiplied the experience. What begins as a personal opportunity becomes something far more meaningful when it’s extended to others.

Great Environments Shape Great Perspective
North Carolina is often called the home of American golf, and for good reason. From the rolling landscapes to the storied fairways, each course tells a story. Walking those grounds doesn’t just refine your eye for the game, it deepens your appreciation for history, design, and the quiet beauty that surrounds us every day.

Your Gift Has a Place in Every Room You Enter
For me, that gift is art. Early on, I recognized that what I was seeing on these courses could be translated onto canvas. The game gave me access but art gave me a way to preserve and share it. Whatever your gift may be, don’t leave it at the door. Bring it with you. It may be the very thing that elevates the experience for everyone involved.

A Closing Thought

There’s something powerful about standing on a course that has hosted generations before you, feeling the weight of its history while adding your own small chapter to it. The North Carolina Golf Panel has given me that opportunity time and time again.

But more than that, it has reminded me of a simple truth: the greatest experiences in life aren’t just meant to be enjoyed they’re meant to be shared, shaped, and expressed through whatever gifts we’ve been given.

And for me, that expression will always find its way back to the canvas.

“What Are You Training Your Eye to See?”

I was standing in my studio early one morning, coffee in hand, looking at a canvas that at first glance felt unfinished. Nothing remarkable. Just a suggestion of color, a hint of form. But the longer I stood there, the more began to reveal itself. A line I hadn’t noticed. A relationship between colors that suddenly felt alive. What was once ordinary became full of possibility not because the painting changed, but because I did.

That’s when it struck me, after all these years, the real gift hasn’t just been learning how to paint. It’s been learning how to see.

James Clear, author of Atomic Habits put it beautifully: “Observation is a skill, and like any skill, it can be trained and honed.” And perhaps that’s the quiet truth hiding in plain sight, we are all observing something every day. 

The question is; what are we training ourselves to see?  Over time, I’ve come to realize that awareness isn’t just a concept—it’s a discipline. One that shapes not only our work, but our  outlook, our relationships, and even our sense of purpose.

Here are three reflections worth carrying with you:

You See What You Practice Seeing
If you train your eye to notice what’s missing, what’s broken, or what might go wrong, you’ll always find it. There is no shortage of evidence.

But the same is true in reverse. When you begin to look for moments of possibility a kind gesture, an unexpected opening, a quiet success you start to uncover a different narrative. One that was there all along, simply waiting to be acknowledged.

Awareness Fuels Imagination
As an artist, everything begins with observation. The way light falls across a building. The rhythm of trees against the sky. The subtle emotion in a place that others might pass by without a second glance.

But here’s what I’ve learned: observation isn’t passive, it’s the spark.  The more aware you become of whats around you, the more your imagination has to work with.

Awareness feeds creativity. It gives you the raw material to build something meaningful whether that’s a painting, a business idea, or a better way of serving others.

What You Notice,  You Multiply
There’s a quiet compounding effect to awareness.  When you begin to notice what’s good, what’s working, what’s possible you don’t just feel better you act differently. You move toward opportunity, you respond with gratitude you create momentum.  And over time, those small observations begin to shape a much larger outcome.

A Thought to Carry Forward

Perhaps one of the greatest gifts we’ve been given isn’t just the ability to think or create but the ability to notice. To train our eye not just on what demands attention but on what deserves appreciation.  
Because in the end, the life we experience is often a reflection of what we’ve become skilled at observing.

“Are You Managing Time or Missing Its Greatest Gift?”

It caught me off guard how deeply it landed. I was reading a short piece “Daily Motivator” by Ralph Marston on "Give Time", just a few simple lines and yet it lingered long after I finished. He wrote about giving time the opportunity to heal, to teach, to transform. Not rushing it. Not forcing it. Just allowing it. And it made me stop and think.  

How often do we treat time as something to manage, rather than something to honor? We chase it, measure it, try to control it but rarely do we pause long enough to recognize it as one of the greatest gifts we’ve been given. And perhaps even more meaningful and the one that make me pause is that it’s one of the greatest gifts we can give.

Three Thoughts to Carry With You

Time reveals what effort alone cannot
We live in a world that celebrates speed, but the most meaningful things in life trust, growth, understanding take time to unfold. You can’t rush significance. It’s built slowly, quietly, often when no one is watching.

Time given is more powerful than anything spoken
There’s something deeply personal about giving someone your time. Your full attention. Your presence. It says, “You matter.” In many cases, that simple act carries more weight than anything we could ever say. This reminds of words from Pops that continue to echo with me today, “Be a good listener.”

Time shapes the legacy we leave behind
At the end of the day, people won’t remember how busy we were. They’ll remember how we showed up. Where we chose to spend our time and more importantly, who we chose to spend it with.

 Samuel, Number One Grandson

A Final Reflection

What if we began to see time not as something slipping away, but as something being entrusted to us? A daily opportunity to invest, to encourage, to make a difference in ways that may seem small in the moment but become significant over time. Because in the end, the true measure of our lives won’t be how much time we had but how intentionally we chose to give it.