I realise that I don’t often share the more personal side of my life but that it might be nice to understand the reasoning behind why I’ve chosen art.
It’s always been there, always been a passion. The photos from when I was little are almost always of me drawing or making something. I struggled a lot growing up with socialising so poured myself into making instead.
Fast forward to varsity, I decided to study art with the lofty goal of wanting to be a full-time artist, not really understanding at the time how incredibly difficult that actually is. I also went in being absolutely adamant that I was going to continue making hyperrealistic portraits, but that changed really quickly when I realised that there really are no rules and the best part (for me) is the playing.
After that, and in another life at this point, I started doing my Masters in Art Therapy in Singapore. I truly believe in the healing power of creating but also had the world’s most ironic breakdown as I was honestly not in a very healthy space mentally at all and it was just a bit too much doing a Masters at 24 in a country on the other side of the world where I knew no one and the timezones meant I never got to speak to anyone I knew. I dropped out, shifted to a teaching degree and thought that was the plan now (I love teaching but not all the politics behind it- teachers will know what I’m talking about here).
In 2017 a 3am phone call changed my life forever. I won’t go into too many details as I would imagine at this point, especially considering the last few years, it would be impossible to find someone whose life hasn’t been touched by a tragic loss.
Out of nowhere, my Mum passed away. It broke me into a million pieces. You’ll understand if you’ve lost your soulmate.; the level of devastation you feel and how you never truly feel like your whole self again. I’m still me, but a little bit is gone.
But like I said we won’t dwell because loss is triggering and I don’t want to bring that up for anyone reading this. Instead, I’ll share how I’ve got through it.
The day I got home I started painting. And painting. And painting. I had no idea how to process what was happening and have never really been that good at expressing my internal voice so I turned to art. Words felt too empty to try to encompass what was happening. And when I say it saved me please know that’s not an exaggeration. I went in with no intention with each painting and just mixed things and swirled and cried until paintings formed and I slowly, painting after painting, year after year, started to see light again where I thought there’d be none again.
This is when it really clicked for me, just how (and I hesitate to use the phrase as it really urks me when people throw around but here we go) powerful it is to make. I felt like I was cleansing some of my sadness every time I made something. It was like the marks were pulling all the things I was feeling out of my body to allow brief moments of peace.
It was also during this time, and this totally unplanned period of play that I worked out the style that I’m currently working in. Working in the way I do is focused on recreating textures from nature but it’s also, more personally, still linked to healing. I sort of know what will happen when I mix up all my paints and inks and alcohols and lay them all down, but time and external forces beyond my control will shape things in ways I can’t anticipate, and isn’t that just life really? It really is an act of letting go. Things will happen no matter how much you poke and prod so you do the best you can with the tools you have and shift around the outcomes that reveal themselves as time passes.
So yes, I do make nature-themed artworks that are meant to look soft and organic and bring a sense of gentle movement to your home but I also make paintings that teach me something every time I lay paint to canvas, that help me on my healing journey and serve as a reminder for just how strong I really am and what I can overcome. Maybe you can think that too when you look at them if you need to feel the same.
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