I Don’t Just Make Art – I Process the World Through It
recently attended an artist talk at circular art space that asked a thought-provoking question: What is your theme, what is the work really about? Develop an idea, that may not be the final idea
The speaker encouraged artists to develop a single theme and spend time consciously exploring it before creating finished pieces.
I found myself disagreeing with most of the approach, but that’s the beauty of good conversations—they make you think more deeply about your own practice.
The more I reflected, the more I realised that I do revisit ideas. I paint a lot. Some works come together quickly, others I return to over months or even years. Sometimes I’ll revisit old sketches, repaint an earlier idea, or explore the same subject from a completely different emotional place, or zoom out of an idea like the recent mural at the bus.
feeling like a Fish out of water, an alien from another planet, exploring to find their tribe
Maybe I’m developing themes after all. My book explores why I resisted these themes. There is a 15 page preview here
Just not in a way that looks particularly logical or conscious.
For me, painting is either observational , inspired by a photo or on a walk, or an idea from various input
Looking closely at the world helps me feel connected to it. Observing birds, landscapes, people, fleeting expressions or unexpected moments gives the world meaning when it can otherwise feel overwhelming or fracture, broken.
Photography helps me slow down and notice beauty. Painting then becomes something deeper than simply copying what I saw—it’s my response to it.
The eyes and expressions that appear so often in my work are conversations with my own inner world.
The more surreal pieces? Those feel different again. They arrive almost fully formed, like flashes of imagery waiting to be translated into paint. I often say that I channel and I’m simply the vessel.
from pexels https://www.pexels.com/@mikhail-nilov/
Years of observing, sketching, photographing and absorbing the world build up inside me. Eventually they need somewhere to go.
I’m a sponge.
The paintings are the wringing out. The ideas made real.
Sometimes ideas arrive complete. Other times there are too many to paint all at once, so they find their way into a sketchbook simply so I don’t forget them. I don’t really use sketches to solve paintings—they’re more like reminders. The real thinking happens once the brush touches the surface, many layers and reworking. Figuring it out on the canvas.
This is not a rehearsal!
Music often helps too. Finding the correct tempo for the painting, I love sitting down with a sketchbook to generate more ideas and seeing what happens, especially when unexpected ideas collide.
One thing the artist talk did make me realise is that, although I don’t consciously invent a grand narrative before I paint, I absolutely do have something to say.
I don’t paint what something looks like.
I paint how it feels.
Sometimes that’s joy.
Sometimes it’s grief, frustration, wonder, nostalgia, or trying to make sense of the world.
Sometimes it’s simply the delight of a bird perched on a branch.
Sometimes it’s celebrating a favourite film, an animal, or the quiet companionship of my rescue dog, Ralph.
Every painting carries part of me, whether I’m fully aware of it at the time or not.
“The fact I myself do not understand what my paintings mean while I am painting them does not imply that they are meaningless “ Salvador Dali
People often ask about finding a style. I’ve never tried to create one. My way of painting has simply emerged from how my mind works, how I observe, and how I respond emotionally to the world around me. And through painting often. I’ve learned many techniques over the years, but technique alone isn’t what makes a painting feel alive. which is what the talk mentioned but made it feel like we all learn technique the same, maybe true when copying to learn but it becomes filtered very differently through our unique selves. So lots I agreed with but would voice it another way.
It’s the way we see.
It’s the way we feel.
It’s the choices we make without even realising we’re making them.
Looking back, I think that artist talk gave me something valuable—not because it changed my practice, but because it helped me understand it more clearly. And to question things.
I’m already making the work that feels true to me. It will of course evolve as I evolve.
The next step isn’t changing what I paint. Although this naturally happens with life .
It’s becoming better at sharing it and telling those stories, of course some is simply seeing the beauty in an otherwise broken world, it gives me meaning when it can all seem a bit hopeless and I hope those bringing my art home feel the same, that is reminds them of a very human endeavour , and that the human spirit is alive despite the chaos
Thank you for following along on this wonderfully strange journey. Whether you’ve bought a painting, shared my work, left a kind comment, or simply spent time looking, you’re part of this story too.
Here’s to making art honestly, trusting the process, and continuing to find connection through creativity.
