What's your art really saying?

This week, I've had some studio time and I’ve been thinking about what we’re actually communicating through our art.

What’s behind the colours, the brushstrokes, and the compositions? What’s underneath all the aesthetic choices and technical skills we've developed?

And more importantly — Do we need to know?

There are people who think intention is unnecessary - that it's enough to just express yourself. But I think our art becomes more powerful — and more fulfilling for ourselves — when we know what we're really trying to say.

I don't mean in a neat, intellectual way (like a perfectly worded artist statement). I mean in a felt, personal, soul-deep way.

For me, that clarity has come slowly - and honestly it's been a little uncomfortable. 

A few years ago, I realised that at the heart of all my work — whether I’m painting or teaching — is the same thread: an unwavering interest in women’s authentic voices.

It’s what my courses are built around because it's what I believe the world desperately needs. And it turns out, it’s what my art has been reaching for too — even before I consciously understood it.

What I’m really doing when I paint is expressing my own voice as honestly as I can. That’s the work. That’s the message. That’s the drive behind the colours, the movement, the layers.

And I know exactly where it comes from.

Early in my life, I learned to smooth my rough edges and present myself in an "acceptable" way. I went from being a rambunctious child to being a painfully shy one, and I now see that my shyness was a kind of shame. I didn't know how to act. I didn't know how to be acceptable. So I stayed quiet.

For many years I tried to be the “good girl.” I worked extra hard, and I bent herself around the needs and expectations of others to make sure everyone felt okay.

Until one day I realised I wasn’t okay.

And ever since then, I’ve been doing the slow work of unlearning that habit — in my life, in my relationships, and absolutely in my art.

So when I paint, I’m not just exploring colour or composition. I’m exploring what it feels like to take up space. To speak in my own voice. To not explain, justify, or soften. It's so much harder than I thought it would be, but it's also so worthwhile. 

So now I want to ask you: What are you really saying in your work?

What’s beneath the style, the subject, the medium? What’s your thread — the one that’s always been there, even if you haven’t fully named it yet?

Some of you have the answer - you already know who you are and what you're doing. But if you are still unsure, just know that you don’t have to have the answer right away. It takes time to work your way to the truth.

But I believe your art will be more powerful, personal and truthful when you begin to ask the question :)