We’re looking forward to introducing you to Tina Wiggins. Check out our conversation below.
Hi Tina, thank you so much for taking time out of your busy day to share your story, experiences and insights with our readers. Let’s jump right in with an interesting one: What do the first 90 minutes of your day look like?
My internal clock wakes me at 5:00 a.m. I start the morning with a cup of hot tea and then lay out the paintings I’m currently working on. I spend time studying each one, noticing where adjustments or refinements might be needed. Sometimes I discover something new that wants to emerge on the canvas. I like to let each piece speak to me—it tells me where to go next.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m a 55-year-old artist based in Texas, and art has always been at the center of who I am. I work with several painting techniques, but my true passion lies in charcoal sketches—the simplicity of black and white allows me to explore depth, emotion, and texture in powerful ways. I’m constantly challenging myself to push my artistic abilities to their fullest potential, whether that means experimenting with new mediums or reimagining familiar subjects from a different perspective. Each day begins early, often before sunrise, when I spend quiet time with my work, studying each piece and letting the canvas guide me. My art is deeply personal—it reflects both the discipline and the freedom that creativity brings. Right now, I’m focused on expanding my collection and exploring how contrast and light can tell a story all their own.
Amazing, so let’s take a moment to go back in time. What breaks the bonds between people—and what restores them?
What breaks the bonds between people, in my view, is a loss of truth, trust, and integrity. When honesty fades, when people stop showing up with sincerity, those connections begin to fracture. We lose that sense of genuine understanding that holds relationships together. What restores those bonds is the very same foundation—truth spoken with kindness, trust rebuilt through consistency, and integrity shown through actions, not words. Whether in art or in life, I believe authenticity has the power to heal and reconnect us.
What have been the defining wounds of your life—and how have you healed them?
Losing my daughter was a profound loss that forever changed the core of my being. It’s the kind of pain that shifts your entire perspective on life, love, and purpose. For a long time, I felt broken—like a part of me had gone missing. But over time, that loss quietly led me back to something that had always been there for me: my art. Creating became both a refuge and a form of healing. It gave me a voice when words failed and a way to process emotions that ran too deep for conversation.
When I sit in my studio in the early morning hours, a cup of hot tea in hand, surrounded by my canvases, I feel a sense of connection that goes beyond the physical. My art has become a bridge between worlds—between grief and grace, between loss and renewal. In many ways, it feels like my daughter’s spirit guides my hand, helping me see beauty even in brokenness. Each charcoal sketch, each painting, is a conversation with her and with life itself.
As an artist, I’ve learned that truth, trust, and integrity are not just values—they’re the lifeblood of everything meaningful. In relationships, they bind us together; in art, they ground every stroke and intention. When those things are lost, bonds are broken. But when we return to honesty, compassion, and authenticity, healing begins—not just between people, but within ourselves.
Today, I create not only to express beauty, but to honor resilience, love, and the journey of becoming whole again. My art is about listening—to the silence, to the memories, to the canvas as it speaks back. It’s about finding light in the shadows and trusting that even in loss, there can be renewal. Art didn’t just save me—it reminded me of who I am, and it continues to help me live with purpose, one piece at a time.
I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. What’s a belief you used to hold tightly but now think was naive or wrong?
For much of my life, I believed that strength meant holding everything together—that to be strong was to keep moving, to stay composed, and to push through pain without letting it show. I thought that vulnerability was a weakness and that showing emotion somehow diminished my resilience. Looking back, I realize how naive that belief was. Losing my daughter shattered that illusion. Grief doesn’t allow you to stay hidden behind walls—it strips you bare and forces you to face the deepest parts of yourself.
Through that loss, and through returning to my art, I’ve learned that true strength is found in honesty—in being open about your pain, your love, your flaws, and your healing. Vulnerability isn’t weakness; it’s courage in its purest form. When I create, I let my emotions live freely on the canvas. It’s in that raw, unfiltered space that truth and beauty coexist.
Now, I see strength not as endurance, but as authenticity. It’s in trusting yourself enough to be real, in life and in art. That shift in perspective changed everything for me—not only how I approach my work, but how I move through the world.
Okay, so before we go, let’s tackle one more area. What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
When I’m gone, I hope people remember me as someone who lived with a golden heart—someone who loved deeply, gave freely, and walked in truth, trust, and integrity. I hope they say that my faith guided everything I did, that even in the hardest seasons of my life, I never lost sight of God’s grace. Losing my daughter was a pain I never expected to carry, yet through that heartbreak, I found my way back to art—and to Him. My creativity became both a prayer and a healing process, a way to honor her memory and reflect the light that still shines in the darkest moments.
I want people to remember that my art came from a place of sincerity—that each charcoal sketch, each brushstroke, carried pieces of my heart and my story. I hope my work inspires others to look for beauty in imperfection and strength in vulnerability, to see that even brokenness can be transformed into something meaningful.
Most of all, I want to be remembered as someone who loved others the way Christ teaches us to love—with compassion, forgiveness, and kindness. If my life and art remind even one person that hope and faith can carry you through anything, then I’ll have done what I was meant to do.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: Tinam._wiggins
Image Credits
Tina M. Wiggins
