I had arrived in West Wales in March, and this was the first time I shared my painting locally, which felt like that ultimate way to arrive. Since moving here, I’ve met wonderful humans through dancing, gardening, care work and other life moments - and I was longing for the opportunity to share my paintings to my new friends and encounters, as for someone to fully meet me, sharing my paintings feels key.

Landing was this opportunity, a show to present myself, and mark my full arrival. Also, since moving to this valley and my current community, I’ve felt a sense of safety I had never before, and with that the chance to come into myself - in March I remember thinking “I’m finally entering my life”; landing into my thirties with a hopeful heart.

The 15 paintings presented here are all fairly recent, even the ones that I had presented before in London last Winter are barely a year old. 10 paintings were shown for the very first time, to the extent that 4 of them were “work in progress” until the very morning of the opening!

This was also the first time I had a show on for this long (usually in London, gallery hire is way too expensive to justify running an exhibition for longer than a week), and it’s been fantastic! Gave me the chance of meeting beautiful people, local or visiting; and for me to soften into the joy of the exhibition once a few roller coasters of stress and fatigue had passed.
For putting one’s heart on display like that is not an easy thing!

Sea Daughter

With a similar process as the two sibling paintings above, this third one joined in. Its starting point also a sea scape, it had initially appeared years ago in my sketchbooks (last picture in the carousel bellow) and I had tried a few times to bring it to a painting, but it was never its moment yet, until this Summer. You can see that her gesture actually went into the painting Daughter & Sea here above, but her reaching out under the sea only came this time. I’m really glad I pushed through for this one, as it took me an un-easy long time to find her face, her expression, herself.

Here she is now, the younger sister, conscientious and playfully interacting with the Universe, letting her imagination transcend scale and the illusion of separation -you go girl!

The ultimate learning of the Summer has been to let myself paint the way it comes, without getting in my way or judging every decision, which is more of an aim than something I’ve managed to put in place yet, a daily practice of keeping my thoughts clean when I paint, trusting the process. This one has been great practice for that, with many choices that “just happened”, some stayed, some changed and got covered - all taught me that with painting every decision remains, even if most of them are no longer directly visible - ultimately each mark is preserved on the surface, and one can muse on the fact that every of those “wrong decisions” or detours were necessary for the end result to emerge. That, has been the practice. Because it’s all good and easy to trust the process when the process is tangibly going well, but there’s so much learning in trusting the process unconditionally, even when the painting is at a chaotic stage. Concretely, I was only one week away from the show, still very unclear about this painting’s direction, and in a lot of stress and doubts because of that - and the antidote was to calm my mind as I painted by focusing my thoughts on a little mantra of trust, so my brain wouldn’t get in the way of my hand while it painted: magically, it made that painting session soooo relaxing and playful, and led this painting to find itself and appear. Pretty amusing and humbling for such breakthrough to be this simple and to actually work: my paintings are happier when my mind doesn’t get too much in the way, the process is much more enjoyable when I don’t doubt it every second - who would have thought? Now to put those learnings into practice with the rest of life, and before I know it I should reach enlightenment ;)

Monster (friend)

One of the newest painting, one of my favourite - and it leads me to feel a bit protective over her as I feel pictures and screens don't do her justice, neither the words I’m finding to go alongside.

Once again exploring the motif of a lonely child who first appeared as a doodle (last picture below), then in a small acrylic sketch (second to last picture below, Monster (friend) study, acrylic on linen £80) before finding itself with oil on board.

One person mentioned this painting made them think of the blurred line between despair and deep relaxation -something to do with surrendering I guess? A lot of those kid paintings dig back into feelings of loneliness, difficulty to cope and boredom, but it is true that they’re always transforming those moments into creative dreams and projections, seeing friends in the shadows, stains on the wall, shapes in their environment.

I realised a couple of years ago, during some medical exams that felt scary and for which I had to find ways to self-soothe amongst the stress, that I had learned to anchor myself by seeking within the room, any shape that could feel like a friendly presence - through all the medical equipment and bleakness of the room I would find my little friends. My mind knowing well those were just projections, but my heart feeling less lonely as a result. This painting goes there, with the duality that shadows and monsters (as for the medical equipment) can be inherently scary, but in moments of need, they can also be the only company, and scary company feels better than no company. Loneliness being the real scary monster! Bouh

Carningli Solstice

This one is a painting I created for the Summer Solstice, to accompany my friend Amanda and her beautiful ceremony and storytelling that evening. This happens at the community where I now live, as the seasons unfold we come together to celebrate, around music and stories, the passing of time and our connection to the land. To create this piece, Amanda shared a few words and motifs with me coming from the story she would tell and I made this painting in response. A painting from imagination, anchored in the place I’m now calling home, which then became part of a beautiful altar that evening.

Amulets

I've titled a few paintings like that, indulging in still life of my lucky objects - a restful pause between the work from imagination that ask quite a lot from me, those ones remind me of the joy of direct observation (for 50% of it, then of course I can't help but going beyond!).

Those amulets hang in my car, over my bed and my rear view mirror - the vegetation behind correspond to the backdrop when I park at night, tree and bushes, my home.

This one is a perfect exemple of the kind of paintings I end up creating when I manage to get my judgment out of the equation. Not long ago I would not have allowed myself to paint it this way - I would have felt as if I should stick to a more straight forward representation, that those marks can’t be justified and therefore are not “serious enough” to be kept. Thankfully I would manage to still paint this way despite the thoughts, probably couldn’t help it even though I thought I “should have” , and that let lead me to venture out of those “rules” many time before. But now something is finally shifting in me: it might be true that I had managed to paint such pictures before, but it’s only very recently that I’ve been able to do it with a soothed mind. Now I allow myself to paint it as it comes. It’s very much me observing myself painting, marks coming by themselves in a state of flow, and my role is to take the back seat and let it happen.

Baby Suzy

Indulging in my picture from childhood is another go-to in between the work from imagination. With a reference, here a printed picture, a still life or any work from observation, I can relax into actual observation.

With those photo reference, I sort of re-invente my own nostalgia, revisiting memories and curating what part of myself I want to connect to on that moment through paint.

That forehead of mine is a feature I love painting, and you might have spotted how it has fed into my work from imagination; often can be found, a face in the shadow with low contrast features, and a crescent of light on the side of the face or forehead. I draw a lot of joy in those simplifications; for portraits can feel daunting and complex, whereas simplicity might end up being the most effective illusion.

And to accompany that magnificent forehead: my dear teddy Mia and a bag of popcorn.

Peasant Girl (Imbolc)

Earlier this year, I spent a couple of months in North Wales - the stunning landscapes were unfortunately weighted down by a pretty challenging living situation as what I was enthusiastically volunteering for “on paper” turned out to be a very different promise. But thankfully life is never all dark: I did make some beautiful encounters and attended some pretty moving gathering, during which through different modalities (meditation, dance, lament) we would come together and for an evening pause and remember how to deeply/simply be human.

On of that magical moment happened during Imbolc, the halfway point between the Winter solstice and Spring equinox - when the seeds are starting to wake up from the deep of Winter but haven’t sprouted yet; an anticipation of all the energy that is about to come with the Spring without having to be in that energy just yet, a remembering that the days are growing longer, the sun will feel warmer, that things are about to get all a bit easier.

As we were dancing that evening, a candle holder pulsated light from the middle of the room. I was moved by this motif whose negative shapes and shadows felt just as present as the solid little figures, arm in arm - some kind of kaleidoscopic connectedness.

I held down to this visual memory by painting it on a small card a few days later (last image of the carousel below) and waited for the moment to “paint it big”. Fast forward a couple of month, I found an elongated frame in a charity shop and it soon felt clear it would be for this one. The frame contained a print reproduction of the Peasant Girl by William Bougreau (also appearing under the title the Young Sheperdess), indicated through a small engraved plaque. This titled grew on me, as the figure slowly emerged in my painting, appearing to me as if she/they contained a multitude instead of being a singular person.

Once, as the painting was resting at my community, drying in between layers- one of the person living there mentioned she could see in the figure a little bit of all of us. I liked that - as I deeply love those modern days Peasant Girls I’m getting to meet: beautiful human with distinctive selves but also a great remembering (or at least eagerness to remember) of some ancestral knowledge, individual & universal.

Day Dream

A small sketch in acrylic on paper as I responded to a “Mini” open call (under 10x10cm) curated by Rose Sanderson who I share a studio with. Acrylic is still relatively new to me and a real joy to get familiar with.

As I developed my painting practice, I remember there was a couple of years during which I would feel the frustration of feeling more at ease doodling with a pencil then with paint, whereas my joy lays in colours. I just needed to be patient, put aside my drawing materials for some time as to focus on getting more at ease with paint, and now I can say I’ve reached a pretty happy place. Far from being an end point, as I do hope I’ll never cease being curious, observing anew and learning more - but at least for now I can play with colours as to make shapes appear on a page, and that to me is a lot of fun!

Panther

This one, painted last winter, is a sum of multiple day dreaming coming from various directions : an acrylic sketch based on old memories of a life drawing session ; my brother pointing at the abstract shapes in the sketch's sky, both of us remembering a big blue panther in one of the books that infused our childhood (turned out it was actually a dog) ; experiences of feline energy, something fiercely loving and protective ... through iterations, this painting got painted, and for now this is how she looks like, but I would not be surprised to see her change or exist in new versions.

Resting

Its started point was five years ago, sketched from life one evening. Something in the pause stayed with me and many times I reproduced it (Panther here above is infused with some of that).

This time I painted it in gouache, on a piece of card while I stayed in Turkey in early 2023. Peacefully melting into her surrounding, this figure was relaxing in a way I could only long for at the time - but I guess being able to paint it was a way to start tasting it somehow. Later on, I mounted the card on a piece of wood that belong to my Grandmother (alongside the drawer-frames), keen to see how the stains and wood grain complemented the painting. Magpie-like, I then fond this little painted circle which ended up naturally joining the painting.

Gabe & Han

I first drove down from North Wales to spend a few days at an eco community, which once a month open their doors for week long volunteering opportunities. After a rough winter, I was finally feeling hopefully again - meeting with really sweet people who were ambitiously taking care of the land and one another.
Very rich days balanced with quiet evenings during which I painted, getting to know the room and its people one quick sketch at a time.
Those simple / no-stake paintings from life are some of my favourite things to do, my way to be present and slow down to life’s pace - it also allows me to connect with others without having to make conversations (I can sometimes be too shy or tired for those).

Healing study

I already spoke about this motif for its big version above, here’s its middle point, the oil on linen iterations in which I started exploring the lean of the figure, the distance between them and the arm, and a shift from the original colour palette. The painting now lives in a drawer-frame, accompanied by my little objects.

Nathalie Warm light

A sketch from life painted a year prior in Provence with the Dulwich Art Group & School, thanks to Nathalie posing under a gorgeous end of Summer sun. A quick oil on paper sketch that reminded me how much I love painting human from life and how lucky I was to spend so much time with models during my training.

Movingly, this painting has been purchased by the gentleman I now care for once a week; he sweetly made a point of coming to see the exhibition, and even though his eyesight is declining, I think this painting was probably of the perfect scale and degree of detail, and reminded him of another of his carer.

For each painting their home

As I shared above (with Daughter & Sun), parting with a painting comes with complex feelings, but it’s fundamentally why I do what I do, to share a connection that goes beyond language, offering a support for day-dreaming, for connecting to or emotions, memories and imaginations. If you resonate with any of those paintings, I’d be very touch to hear from you. And if you’d like to give some a home, here’s the list of the ones that are currently still with me.

- Daughter & Sea
- Sea Daughter
- Monster (friend)
- Healing
- Carningli Solstice
- Amulets
- Peasant Girl (Imbolc)
- Day Dream
- Panther
- Healing study