A Brush With Purpose

By Michelle Jacoby
When artist Betsy Vincent picked up a paintbrush at age 7, her mother, also a painter, gave her a piece of advice that would shape a lifetime of creativity: “Paint what you love, and you’ll always get a good painting.”
More than seven decades later, that simple line still echoes, this time across the walls of Ozanam Manor and De Paul Manor, transitional shelters for people experiencing homelessness at St. Vincent de Paul. What used to be bare hallways are now bursting with more than 400 of Vincent’s paintings — portraits, still lifes, vibrant slices of everyday life — and they’re doing more than just decorating. They’re bringing joy, dignity and healing to a community seeking just that.
“This has just been such a gift to me,” Vincent said. “After I’m gone, these paintings will still be there, still filled with color, still bringing light to someone passing by. That’s the greatest gift I could ask for.”
Vincent’s journey to this second act began not with a bold plan, but with a phone call. Her friends Susan Levine, retired executive director of Hospice of the Valley, and Judy Mohraz, former president and CEO of Virginia G. Piper Charitable Trust, had an idea: What if Betsy’s vivid, expressive paintings could help brighten the lives of people transitioning out of homelessness?
It just happened to be perfect timing. Vincent and her husband, Norm, were preparing to downsize, and her home studio was filled with hundreds of pieces accumulated over years of prolific output.
“I used to say, ‘I’ll know what to do with all these paintings when the time comes,’” Vincent said. “And when Susan called, I just knew. This was it.”
With help from Levine and Mohraz, a team at SVdP was formed. They began collecting the paintings, sometimes by the vanload, and installing them throughout both campuses. Each delivery became its own community event.
“They said people would come watch the artwork being hung, and residents started talking to each other about the colors, the memories a painting stirred,” Vincent said. “People who didn’t know each other yet were connecting.”
It was a deeply personal project for Vincent, who has long had a heart for people experiencing homelessness. “I’d see someone on the street with a dog and think, ‘That could be me. That could be one of my children.’ We’re all just one circumstance away.”
So she painted for them, with intention. Every face on those walls is based on a real person: a friend, a model, someone she saw in a café. “I made sure there were people of every background — Black, Hispanic, Asian, white — so that someone walking by might see a face that reminds them of home.”
And she didn’t stop there. Vincent asked if residents could pick a small painting to keep near their bed. When a staffer hesitated, worried they might go missing, Vincent didn’t blink. “Good. Let them take it. I’ll paint more,” she said.
After a long career — studying at Carnegie Mellon University, exhibiting her work across the country, collecting other artists’ pieces — Vincent says this unexpected chapter might be the most meaningful yet.
“This is the hardest move I’ve ever made,” she said about downsizing. “But also the most beautiful. I’m painting every day again, and I’m painting with purpose.”
It turns out, her mother was right. Paint what you love — and it just might bring others home.
To learn more, visit stvincentdepaul.net.






