Painting on canvas wasn’t what I expected —
sometimes messy, often surprising,
and always a little like a dance with myself.
Here, I share what emerges:
moments with animals, discoveries in the process,
and the small surprises that keep me moving, watching, noticing.
Thanks for joining me on this unfolding journey.
‘I’ve been Smudged club.’ Check out my beautiful book – Smudge-personally speaking [link]
Returning to the Beginning
Holding my little Smudge book in my hands, I’m drawn back to the start of my creative journey. When I first painted on canvas, I didn’t know why I was drawn to it, or why the process felt so compelling.
Finding My Way on Canvas
I began on walls, creating textures, following patterns as they evolved in the paint. I tried to mimic the old masters—playing with colour, building layers, experimenting with texture. But something was missing.
It wasn’t until I spent time with Susan Seddon Boulet, a visionary artist in San Francisco, that a door opened. I realised painting was about more than intellect or technique—it was about presence, attention, and listening.
Painting as a Journey
When I moved to canvas, I brought what I knew: transparent oils, breaking surfaces with brushes, cloths, and tools. I let the patterns guide me.
It was emotionally challenging. Life played out on the canvas, instinctual reactions offering me ways to work through what I felt. Gradually, I realised painting wasn’t just a creative practice—it was a mirror for life: a process of self-discovery, noticing, and surrender. Could this be the voice of my own soul speaking through me?
Moments of Flow
There were times of exhaustion, confronting feelings that seemed endless. And then—a small miracle.
While painting, I’d answer the phone, and as I focused on the conversation, my brush seemed to take over. The painting came alive effortlessly, a quiet balm to my soul. That brief flow expanded into a sense of beauty and peace that felt like pure presence. I call that painting Becoming Kindred Spirits.
Remembering Reverence
Painting has become a teacher, a sanctuary, a force in my life. And yet, I still forget this sometimes—picking up the brush as if it’s a chore. That lack of attention leads to struggle. Returning to stillness, remembering to enter with presence, is the true practice.
Writing my little Smudge book felt like revisiting this journey. My art is not planned—it unfolds despite me. All I need to do is stay open and trust the process. It’s a metaphor for life, a metaphor for communion—with art, and with animals.
Art, Animals, and Kindness
I believe artists influence the River of Life. What I put into my art, the viewer takes away. Kindness is my motivation. Animals open human hearts. Open hearts are kind.
So I paint animals. Through them, I see all that is good in the world. Through them, I learn to be kind to myself and others. Surely, only good can come from that.
Lovely to see you here. Keep creative in your world … blaze
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