Maybe it's time ...

I’ve been thinking lately about what it means to scale up — not just in size, but in presence. In commitment. In clarity.
 

It started with my series of small paintings. These little pieces came together in a really satisfying way — they are layered and textured, simple but not empty. Raw but not unfinished.


Something about them just felt right. And I wondered "what if I worked like this on a larger scale?"

What would it require of me?

The obvious answer is: more paint. More time. More surface. But that’s not really the heart of it.

More layers yes — because I love depth and visual texture, and larger work seems to demand a certain richness.But the truth is, working larger would ask something deeper from me.  

It would require more honesty for one thing.

When making this kind of work on a large scale, every mark has more weight. You can’t hide behind tricks or habits. You have to make decisions. Clear, purposeful ones. You have to ask of every line, every colour, every shape:

Does this need to be here? Why?

And then you have to listen. And answer honestly.
 

Scaling up with this work doesn’t just mean making bigger paintings. It means stepping up. Taking up space. Being fully present on the panel.

It’s no longer about just applying techniques. It becomes about what I'm willing to say — and how willing I am to say it clearly. And that can be confronting. It’s much easier to keep doing what we know. To stay in our comfort zone. To keep using the same marks, the same colours, the same gestures that have always “worked” for us.
 

But I think this new work will require me to get closer to myself.  

it asks:

• What are you really trying to say?

• Can you say it without distraction?

• Can you hold space for it — and for yourself — without overworking, overcomplicating, or retreating into what’s safe?

These are big questions. And they don’t always have immediate answers. But they’re worth asking.

So I’m sitting with them right now. Sitting with the idea that maybe it's time. Time to make things bigger. Time to show up more fully. Time to trust that my voice can carry, even without the usual layers of armour.

If you’re feeling that same pull — that quiet invitation to stretch into new territory — I want to offer a few thoughts. These are my notes to myself as I contemplate this new work.
 

1. Start with the small work that feels true.

Notice what’s happening in your sketchbooks, your small paintings, your quiet experiments. These often contain the seeds of your most authentic work.

2. Ask questions of your process.

Before you scale up, ask:

• What do I love about this way of working?

• What would need to change if I made this bigger?

• What scares me about that?

Sometimes just naming the resistance can help dissolve it.

3. Make one bigger thing — just to see.

Not a masterpiece; not a statement piece; just a test. A way to feel what it’s like to take up more space, both physically and artistically.

4. Be ready to listen more than you speak.

When you work larger and simpler, the painting starts to speak more clearly. The process becomes more about editing, refining, and responding. It becomes a conversation.

I don’t have all the answers, but I do know that something is shifting and I think when we feel that shift, the best thing we can do is say yes.

Yes to showing up more fully. Yes to working with more purpose and presence. Yes to the scary, exhilarating, expansive space of bigness — whatever that means for you right now.

Maybe it’s time :)