I painted this painting while sobbing. I wasn’t feeling the best, hadn’t slept, was aching for my son and I knew I needed to paint. I went to the backyard with a box full of paints that I had grabbed and started to throw them on the canvas. As I cried, I cried out to God. It has been a painful time as I have continued to paint this, and to continue to cry out to God for wisdom. I was reminded of the bible verse 1 King 19:11-13, where God asked Elijah to stand on a mountain where He would pass by and there was a great wind, which tore everything apart and God was not in that, and a great earthquake and God was not in that, and a great fire, but he was in none of these. Then came a gentle whisper… God has come to me in a gentle whisper: I just need to wait on Him, trusting Him in all circumstances and He will provide what I need and what my kids need.
I was terrified to share this painting because it is me, in paint. It was pure joy to paint this piece. This is one of a series of splatter art works, abstractish pieces that I have done, where I start by literally throwing paint on a canvas, and then I make something from it. It also has a lot more to it than some may see. It is kind of like a parable, it will only really make sense to the one who attends to it closely and the more they pay attention the more they will discover. It has hidden things amongst it.
Acrylic Paint on canvas, stretched and ready to hang 101.6 x 101.6cm
Signed on the front
I have fallen in love with Nelson Bay thanks to some truly special friends. It has provided me with endless inspiration. One of my favourite new discoveries was a hidden tucked away piece of paradise…Zenith Beach. The beauty there was staggering. In order to replicate some of the texture I saw, I threw paint all over the canvas as a base layer, squishing and pulling the paint with paper and glad wrap, giving the whole canvas undulations, blobs and creases.
While I enjoyed a previous painting I had done, I decided to take drastic action and paint over it. I needed to let loose so threw paint on this canvas time and time again (good therapy actually) until I saw this field of flowers begin to emerge. I have included in the pictures below a quick cartoon that explains the painting much better than my words possibly could.
My wondrous weeds of joy! We don’t get to choose what life throws at us, most of the time, but we can choose how we see it. This is another one that definitely looks better in real life, check it out up close.
91.5 x 91.5 cm Acrylic on stretched canvas, ready to hang
This was influenced by a previous painting and lessons I learn from Mitzi Vardi at a class. Super fun experimenting with splattering paint, water and then seeing what comes of it. I love this process as it starts out as completely abstract and forces me to be uncomfortable and not paint perfectly, but go with the flow of what the painting reveals over time.
102 x 76cm Acrylic on stretched canvas, ready to hang
This is a reworking of an old painting. I always loved the colours of this painting and so never wanted to change that, but after a recent foray into art using stickers, I was inspired to create an impressionistic version of it and I just love it. Requires stretching or framing.
121.7 x 121.7cm Acrylic on stretched canvas (may have slight warp)
When I painted this I was desperate for stress relief and to throw some paint on a canvas. As I was doing this, I was thinking about my boys and the obstacles they faced in life. They both have things that make them different than others and at times this has made life difficult for them. This painting evolved into a statement to them: that what makes them different also makes them interesting. This painting is all the better for that one flower that sticks out. Hopefully, when people see this artwork and they also realise that what makes us different makes us and life all the more interesting.
122 x 122cm Acrylic painting on stretched canvas, ready to hang
I spend so much time waiting. Waiting for doctors, waiting for holidays, waiting for the weekend, waiting to hear back, waiting for the washing to be done, waiting for the kids to get dressed, brush their teeth, eat their dinner, get into the car etc etc. Sadly I was born impatient! I hate waiting: I would rather wait where I have to be than at home, I over analyse, in order to anticipate an outcome rather than relax into the waiting. Fortunately every now and then I am reminded of the joy in waiting. This was one of those days. It was heading on to sunset and I was walking with Jesse, he is a kid who stops and smells the roses, I looked back and realised how valuable the wait can be. In that moment, thinking of my boys, the joy they bring me and how much they both remind me to live in the moment and savour that still, peaceful, glorious moment: waiting. 76.5 x 61cm