Big brushes, small brushes…

It’s all the same to me!

Greetings fellow humans! I hope you’re doing well, wherever you are in the world…acknowledging that the world is a massive shitshow right now, but lets take a breather and climb into my quiet, humid corner and lets talk paint.

Paint.

What is it about paint that I love so much? Honestly I could chat pigment, colour, texture, plasticity, drippy smooshy loveliness all day long…but the fact is the act of painting is something I need and yearn to do. It’s part of me. The feeling of wielding a brush loaded with colour, to move it and create something out of nothing…it’s truly magical. I spend countless hours in the mindful (and yes also tedious, frustrating and exhausting…but also satisfying, even exhilarating) act of painting which not a soul will see (or at least very few in the physical realm). In my free time I go and gaze at other people’s paintings and imagine how, what, when, why they moved the paint around as they did. It feeds my soul and reinforces my need.

Knowing.

I haven’t been carving out enough time for my painting - my pure passion, aside from the ‘work’ work (although occasionally this work does involve lovely big brushes and walls and immersive paint - next post is mural time!) because instead this past year and a bit I threw myself headlong into a project which involved making tetrapak prints of 100 different species of butterflies and moths - I was totally immersed in the process- I made dozens of framed prints, 150 3D flying wire-layered prints, a humongous moth…I had Lepidoptera coming out of the woodwork (thankfully metaphorically)…I thought I was on to the next big thing - I set up an online shop, I thought I could market these, maybe zines, books, apparel…moths on fabric, notebooks, tea towels…but after 8 days of craft fairs and two exhibitions over the past year, I’ve run out of steam. It’s hard to get a sustained side income set up…turns out it’s a full time endeavour, for very little return. Maybe they’ll have another outing one day (still available in my shop though, wink) .

This is me and Mothew. My great big White Witch moth. She’s quite cuddly really.

A little look at the installation at Pound Arts in Corsham, May 2025. They’re back in hibernation now.

I’m done. I need to paint. That’s what feeds me (again metaphorically, if only it was figuratively!)

Refuel.

I made a trip to see Jenny Saville’s gargantuan paintings at the NPG. This is what I needed. Big, beautiful, unabashedly raw, violent, seductive, energetic, real and engaging. I love her work so very much. Her paintings have been part of my world since I was 17 and saw ‘Sensation’ the seminal YBA exhibition by Saatchi at the RA (although I was too young to be allowed into the infamous Jake & Dinos Chapman mannequin room, we all popped our heads in to see) hers are the artworks which have stayed with me.

The frenetic mark making, the raw energy, every decision of the hand smearing, splattering, cutting, gashing marks across the surface…this is painting! Phew.

The multitude of layers, the aggressive lines tearing up the surface, the thick patches of alien colour which make total sense - was absolutely invigorating. The unsettling subject of some of the paintings coupled with sensuousness and softness added to the visceral feeling of the work. Isn’t it amazing what paint can do! This is why I love it!

What would I do if I had the opportunity to paint on this scale? My largest piece to date is probably a quarter the size of her smallest…I’m exhausted thinking about it! Ands let’s face it, I couldn’t give up my tiny brushes! But that’s not to say her influence isn’t apparent in what I do:

Smooshy drippy painty goodness.

And the mouths…oh, the mouths! (And let’s not mention how I wanted to touch all the gentle soft eyes…)

About 10 years ago, Jenny Saville had a wonderful exhibition in the Ashmolean in Oxford of drawings responding to centuries old works - these were displayed in the galleries surrounded by the Venetian Old Masters (note, masters) and her take was a beautiful and contemporary reimagining of figure drawing and the relationship of humans, bodies, motherhood and the passage of time. Many of her drawings seen at the NPG were moving and authentic - now, as a mother, they have a huge resonance with me. The frenzied movement, the layers of feeling, the poignancy. Wonderful.

Tiny brushes

I have made a number of Madonna & child portraits. Connecting to art history is a meaningful and intentional act in my work. I want to see and explore relationships to the world around me and the roads paved before. Symbolism and small nods. I got to see a few of my faves whilst at the National Gallery next door to the NPG - Carlo Crivelli and Dirk Bouts, and the painting that inspired my work ‘Oblation’ by the workshop of Durer.

Inspirational Madonna in red, some glorious depictions of fabrics, some delicious chubby ankles and a tiny nun. Cute.

I’ve finally resumed a painting which I first started over 5 years ago, but then had to stop. Life happened. (Read ‘Oblation’ above.) The beauty and sentiment felt wrong. I didn’t feel that this painting would be the celebration that I wanted it to be.

Fast forward 5 years and I can see the potential in it again. Although I’ve changed, the meaning has changed, the world has changed, I’m ready to reexamine and revisit her. She’s not how I remember. I’m looking back to go forward. I’ve made peace with her and I’m excited to see where it goes from here. Whichever size brush I’m using, as long as I have one in my hand, I’m happy.

The change of scale from my behemoth paintings is taking some getting used to - I feel a lot more restrained, but it sure as hell is quicker!

Thanks as always for getting this far..if you’d like to support my work, please do visit my shop or consider becoming a paid subscriber. Speak soon folks.