Today we’d like to introduce you to Sarah Mills-Bailey.
Hi Sarah, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
My story has definitely not followed a straight line, and I think I’ve finally reached a place where I’m grateful for that.
I grew up in New Orleans and originally chose a very traditional, science-based path. I earned a degree in microbiology from LSU and later a master’s degree in Microbiology and Immunology from Tulane University. I genuinely loved science and spent time working in clinical research and molecular genetics, but motherhood changed the trajectory of my life in ways I never could have anticipated.
When my oldest daughter was diagnosed with epilepsy at two years old, my priorities shifted dramatically. I wanted more flexibility, more time with my family, and eventually a life that allowed me to be present for the people I loved while still creating something that felt meaningful to me. That began a long season of reinvention.
Over the years, I became an entrepreneur almost out of necessity and curiosity. I started a small clothing company making children’s clothes, learned how to build and market a business, and eventually found my way back to something I had always loved—art. In 2018, I began pursuing fine art professionally. Painting gave me a way to combine two sides of myself that once seemed completely unrelated: the analytical, observant part of me that came from science and the deeply creative part of me that had been waiting for more room in my life.
Today, my life is a collection of things I probably never would have predicted when I was sitting in a microbiology lab. I am an artist, a small-business owner, a homeschool mom, and I make a natural skincare line called Moon Lake Tallow. I also work alongside my husband, Lee, with the Lookout Performing Arts Company, helping with everything from administration and social media to supporting his larger vision of expanding access to music and performing arts for children in our community.
A few years ago, our family moved to Lookout Mountain, and that move has influenced me tremendously. There is something about living surrounded by mountains, woods, small towns, old houses, and a strong sense of community that has caused me to reevaluate what success actually means to me.
When I was younger, I think I believed success was mostly about accomplishment—degrees, careers, titles, businesses, and continually reaching for the next thing. At this point in my life, my definition is very different. I still have dreams and I still work incredibly hard, but I value time, family, creativity, community, faith, meaningful work, and the ability to live intentionally far more than I once did.
I’ve learned that starting over isn’t necessarily starting from scratch. Every chapter comes with you. Science taught me curiosity and discipline. Entrepreneurship taught me resilience. Motherhood taught me perspective. Art taught me to pay attention. And the difficult seasons of my life taught me that sometimes the path you never planned becomes the one that fits you best.
I’m still figuring things out, still creating, still changing, and still dreaming about what comes next. But I think that is part of my story too. I don’t necessarily feel like I’ve “arrived.” I feel like I’ve finally learned to build a life that looks and feels like my own.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
It has definitely not been a smooth road, but I’m not sure I would change that. Some of the hardest seasons of my life have also been the ones that changed me the most.
One of the earliest turning points was my oldest daughter being diagnosed with epilepsy when she was only two years old. When something affects your child, it has a way of instantly rearranging what matters. That season brought fear, uncertainty, and a lot of changes to the life I thought I was going to have. It also became part of what pushed me to create a career and a life with more flexibility, which eventually led me away from the traditional path I had imagined for myself.
Entrepreneurship has had its own share of valleys. I’ve started businesses, closed businesses, changed directions, taken risks, made mistakes, and had seasons when things simply did not work the way I hoped they would. Being an artist comes with uncertainty as well. There is no guaranteed paycheck, no clearly defined path, and a great deal of vulnerability in creating something personal and then putting it into the world.
There have also been seasons of moving, starting over, raising children, homeschooling, supporting my husband’s dreams while continuing to pursue my own, and trying to balance all the different roles that make up my life. There have been financial pressures, disappointments, closed doors, and plenty of moments when I have wondered what the next step was supposed to be.
But my faith has always been the constant underneath all of it.
I truly believe God is just as present with me in the valley as He is in the moments of success. In fact, I think some of the times I have felt His presence most clearly have been when I did not know how things were going to work out. My faith doesn’t mean I expect life to be easy or that I always understand why something is happening. It means I trust that even the difficult chapters are not wasted.
Looking back, I can see how many of the things I once viewed as setbacks actually redirected my life. A closed door often forced me to look somewhere I never would have looked otherwise. Failure taught me resilience. Disappointment taught me perspective. Difficult seasons made me more compassionate, more resourceful, and much more appreciative of the simple things.
I think I have also learned to hold success a little more loosely. I’m grateful for the good seasons, but I don’t believe they are proof that God is with me any more than a difficult season means He has left me. He has been present through all of it.
So no, the road hasn’t been smooth. There have been plenty of twists, valleys, detours, and a few complete reinventions along the way. But when I look back at the whole journey, I can see grace woven throughout it. And that gives me a lot of confidence moving forward—not because I know exactly what comes next, but because I know I won’t be walking through it alone.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
My work is a little difficult to fit neatly into one box, and I’ve finally decided that’s a good thing.
At my core, I’m a creator. I’m a fine artist, entrepreneur, maker, homeschool mom, and someone who genuinely enjoys taking an idea and figuring out how to bring it to life.
My primary creative work is as a fine artist. I’m especially drawn to subjects that feel timeless, beautiful, and connected to a sense of place. Living on Lookout Mountain has only deepened that. I find myself continually inspired by nature, old homes, landscapes, light, history, and the quiet beauty of everyday life. My science background probably influences my artwork more than people might expect. I spent years studying microbiology and immunology, which trained me to observe closely, notice small details, and stay curious. Those habits never left me; I simply use them differently now.
I also own Moon Lake Tallow, a small line of handcrafted skincare products. That began very organically from my interest in simple ingredients, traditional methods, and creating products I felt good about using on my own family. I love the process of developing something from the ground up—from researching ingredients to making the product, designing the packaging, telling the story, and eventually placing it into someone else’s hands.
Another very important part of my life is the Lookout Performing Arts Company, which my husband, Lee, founded. I work behind the scenes in just about every capacity imaginable—administration, marketing, social media, organization, fundraising, events, and whatever else happens to need doing that day. His expertise is music and performance; mine tends to be helping turn the vision into something people can see, understand, and become part of.
And I think that work has become one of the things I am most proud of.
Watching children discover that they are capable of something they didn’t think they could do is incredibly meaningful. Some walk through the door already confident performers. Others are shy, unsure of themselves, or simply looking for somewhere they belong. Seeing those children find their voices, develop confidence, make friends, and discover their “tribe” reminds me that the arts are about so much more than producing a beautiful performance. They can give a child connection, purpose, and a place to belong.
I’m also incredibly proud of the life our family is creating. I homeschool our youngest daughter, work alongside my husband, paint, build small businesses, and try to remain present for our family while still pursuing my own dreams. It isn’t always balanced or glamorous, and there are plenty of days when every surface in my house seems to have art supplies, schoolbooks, tallow jars, or choir paperwork on it. But it feels authentic to who I am.
If there is something that sets me apart, I think it may be that I don’t see creativity, science, business, family, and community as separate parts of my life. To me, they all inform one another.
I’m equally comfortable talking about microbiology, mixing paint colors, developing a skincare formulation, writing a marketing campaign, or helping organize an arts program for seventy children. I love learning, and I’m rarely afraid to try something simply because I haven’t done it before.
More than anything, though, I want whatever I create to have meaning. Whether it is a painting someone hangs in their home, a product they use every day, an arts program that gives a child confidence, or simply a home where my family feels loved and grounded, I want my work to add something good to the world around me.
At this stage of my life, that matters much more to me than being known for one particular title. I hope I’m known as someone who creates beautiful things, works hard, stays curious, cares deeply about people, and isn’t afraid to keep reinventing herself.
Can you talk to us a bit about the role of luck?
Truthfully, I don’t really believe in luck—good or bad.
I believe in God’s grace. I believe in prayer. I believe in hard work, perseverance, and getting back up when something doesn’t work the way you hoped it would. I believe in the long nights when everyone else is asleep and you’re still wrestling with an idea, finishing a project, solving a problem, or trying to figure out how you’re going to make something work. And I believe there is tremendous power in simply refusing to give up.
That doesn’t mean I believe I’ve accomplished anything entirely on my own. Quite the opposite. There have been people who have encouraged me, doors that have opened at exactly the right time, opportunities I could never have orchestrated myself, and circumstances that, looking back, were far better than anything I had planned. I just don’t call those things luck. I call them grace.
I also don’t view the difficult seasons of my life as “bad luck.” There have certainly been disappointments, failures, financial worries, wrong turns, and times when I worked incredibly hard for something that still didn’t succeed. But I’ve learned that failure isn’t necessarily the opposite of success. Very often, it’s part of how you get there.
I think one of the most valuable qualities I have developed over the years is the willingness to start again. I’m not particularly afraid of failing anymore. I’ve done it plenty of times. I’ve had ideas that worked beautifully and others that absolutely did not. I’ve changed careers, reinvented businesses, moved, started over, and found myself on paths I never imagined taking.
Each time, I learned something.
I think we sometimes look at another person’s life or business from the outside and call them “lucky” because we see the finished painting but not all the layers underneath it. We don’t see the years of work, the sacrifices, the mistakes, the self-doubt, the sleepless nights, or the hundred small decisions that eventually led to that moment.
Very little in my life has happened overnight.
The things I am most proud of have generally required patience, determination, a willingness to learn, and quite a bit of stubbornness. I’ve learned that you don’t always have to be the most talented person in the room or have everything figured out. Sometimes you just have to be willing to keep showing up.
And through all of it, my faith has been the foundation.
I believe God has been present in the doors that opened and the ones that closed. He has been with me in the successes, but He has also been with me during the seasons when nothing seemed to be working. I don’t believe His grace guarantees an easy life or guarantees that every dream will turn out exactly the way I envision it. For me, faith is trusting Him even when it doesn’t.
So when I look back over my life, I don’t see a string of good luck or bad luck. I see grace. I see hard work. I see failures that taught me something, people God placed in my path, unexpected opportunities, a lot of long nights, and a woman who learned somewhere along the way that falling down isn’t nearly as important as deciding to get back up.
And I’m still getting up.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.sarahmillsbailey.com
- Instagram: @smbaileyart
- Facebook: Art of Sarah Mills Bailey
- Other: https://www.moonlaketallow.com
