What if the most serious thing about art is learning not to take it seriously at all? In her mixed media exhibition Nothing Serious at the Harrison Center's Lift Gallery, Harriet Watson invites us into a world where creation springs from pure curiosity and a radical redefinition of "fun." This isn't the instant-gratification kind of fun we scroll past on our phones, but something far more complex and rewarding; the kind that scientists have discovered actually rewires our brains for creativity and resilience. Her approach echoes what play researchers understand: it's not frivolous, but essential for how we solve problems, stay optimistic, and remain open to surprise.

Her canvases become laboratories for emotional evolution, where each piece emerges from what she calls her "chaotic process" - a beautiful contradiction that yields art that is simultaneously unpredictable and deeply intentional. The colors in her work don't just decorate; they reach out with an almost physical urgency, demanding that viewers pause and get lost in wonder. There's something here that echoes what psychologists call "awe" - those moments of genuine surprise that open us up in unexpected ways. Meanwhile, her imagery operates on a more subtle level, inviting what she playfully terms "pseudo-psychoanalysis", that gentle self-examination that happens when we see something that reflects back at us.

What emerges from all this is that she has transformed her studio practice into a daily exercise in self-acceptance. "My art changes me every day," Watson reflects, describing the emotionally taxing yet transformative journey of bringing vision to life. Her creative ritual is refreshingly unstructured: music, thoughts of loved ones, and allowing her mind to wander freely. In a culture obsessed with optimization and outcomes, Watson has carved out space for something more precious - the permission to simply be, and to let that being inform her making.

Nothing Serious ultimately becomes a celebration of the beautiful messiness of growth. Watson's work asks us to join her in embracing the full spectrum of creative experience, from the terror of things going wrong to the euphoria of unexpected brilliance. In her world of self-written standards, we find an invitation to loosen our own death grip on perfection and discover what emerges when we choose to keep playing, even, or especially, when we fail wildly.