I’m an abstract artist currently dripping paint in the former gold- mining town of gympie, Queensland.
I have a Bachelor of Education (Secondary), Bachelor of Visual Art, a Diploma of Graphic Design and a bachelor-turned-husband that makes sure I’m caffeinated and well-fed when I’m losing time in my artist’s shed.
German-born and UK-raised, I spent the first part of my life legitimately believing
that I was a character in an Enid Blyton novel.
I roamed the cliffs, beaches and forests of Isle of Wight, making dens, collecting nature and creating stories in my head.
These early days imprinted themselves on my identity, forming an unbreakable bond between my creativity and the natural world.
As I grew up, I found myself venturing into nature whenever I felt overwhelmed (so, every second day). The peaceful solitude of a hike through the woods anchored me in the present moment and allowed me to reconnect with myself, a pastime that proved invaluable later in life.
I’d always been a highly self-critical and sensitive soul, prone to people-pleasing and perfectionism.
Depression latched onto these facets of my personality, and really began to envelop me in high-school.
To everyone else, on the outside I was a bubbly, friendly and cheeky girl whose biggest problem was choosing which beach to hang out at on the weekends. But on the inside, I felt completely alone and lost. There was a constant heaviness in my heart, weighing me down.
It was something that I struggled with for a very, very long time.
And even though painting, drawing and creating were my favourite pastimes, I was terrified of putting myself and my art out there. My greatest fear was showing people my true self. My depth. I was scared I’d be rejected, criticised, laughed at and embarrassed.
So, instead, I focused on helping others nurture their inner artistic natures.
Graduating from the Queensland University of Technology in 2003, I hung out with the future legends of the universe (aka primary to high school kids) for several years as an art teacher, before womaning up, taking the biggest breath of my life and beginning my own full-time painting career.
The Chinese believe that before you can conquer a beast, you must first make it beautiful.
Conquering the Beast
It wasn’t until after my third child that I learned I possibly had depression. Depression. Finally. I’d named my ‘beast’. Now … I could start to love and tame it.
Slowly but surely, I started doing it. Facing it. Noticing it. Noticing my thoughts. Challenging it. Doing it some more. And showing up, again and again, with love and acceptance, to embrace my beast.
Painting became my pathway to healing; My way to see past chaos, to make my world simple and kind and beautiful. It’s been the hardest thing and the best thing I’ve ever done.
Today, I transform creative chaos into calm with an artistic style focused on
I stumbled on my current style by painting white into a ruined canvas. As I stroked the brush across the collision of colours, it truly felt like I was digging out treasure. With every splash of white, a kind of elemental alchemy formed, conjuring circular, precious stones of colour and beauty.
Eliminating areas that feel distracting or
It’s a balance of complexity and simplicity, a paradox of effortless beauty, and a kind of visual poetry dedicated to nature herself.
The Creation Process
Inspired by nature, I use unpredictable materials such as water-based acrylics and ink and pair them with spontaneous, intuitive marks and controlled randomness to infuse a divine, sacred energy into my art.
Once the first splash of paint hits the canvas, it’s intuitive. I release control. Surrender. The paint takes on a life of its own, flowing and winding across the canvas with the unpredictable beauty of colour, form and texture. Seconds shift into minutes. Minutes transform into hours. And, eventually, we both emerge: Complete and ready for the next transformation.
This process becomes the underpainting and the foundation for my final composition.
Harnessing the Japanese concept of “Ma”, meaning ‘interval’ or ‘the space between’, I use white space to bridge chaos and calm while I lovingly pare my art down to its absolute simplest form, without losing its beauty and meaning.
The final composition is refined and minimal, the negative space just as important as what was left behind, creating a balance of beauty and peace.
It’s sacred. It’s raw. It’s handmade – from my soul to yours.