What is your background and how does this impact how you see the world and create art?

As a human I can think of myself also as a ground dwelling mammal – and so the forest floor is my ancestral home. I love to sit on the grass and dirt and look at the trees – really look until I see. And when I really see, I feel compelled to paint. I think maybe the painting is an attempt to prolong the sense of connection - and also to touch the untouchable part of the forest: the feeling part, or the spirit. So there’s an element of the abstract in my work.

Also, my art is very much impacted by a sense of place: I have lived most of my life in Canberra which is known as “the bush capital” because it is surrounded by nature reserves. These spill into the suburbs in hundreds of little pockets of woodland which the kangaroos use as a corridoor down to our yards and the yummy grass on our sports ovals along with the birds and lizards and snakes and frogs…  

Also, family holidays as a child were spent camping deep in the bush, with no amenities but a small tent. I adored that time immersed nature. I can still recall the visceral sensations from bathing in cold cold river water, with pebbles under your feet, then onto the soft sand and up the bank to the divine warmth of the fire. The bark on a log felt so comfortable right then.

There’s a strong sense of grounding that comes from these experiences, so I tend to not put much sky in my paintings.

I like to paint what I call landscape interiors or “cosy wild places” which invite viewers to pause and peer in through the underbrush.

What are your biggest influences?

My biggest influences are the impressionists for their mastery of colour and light, and the later Australian impressionists particularly Fred McCubbin who provided such sensitive, quiet responses to the bush. Also the later work of Fred Williams for his minimalist summaries of this landscape.

Australia’s First Nations artists are another influence, from whom I’m learning a much greater observation of the layers of life right down to tiny groundcovers and underground plants, and how they change in the seasons. More recently I’m also inspired by John Wolselely who makes very gestural, responsive works, making direct contact with the surface with his hands, body or objects of nature used as mark-making tools.

What are you focussing on right now?

Right now I’m focussing on developing my Sentinels series, and trying to work out how to communicate the spiritual and energetic aspects of the forest. I try to paint the oneness and interconnectivity of the forest and I want to take that to the next level.

How, as an artist, can I represent that visually or evoke a spiritual moment?

A unique aspect of the Australian landscape is that it is so ancient. I want to express also that sense of timelessness and continuity. I think that sense of continuity is really meaningful in this age of climate change: When too much change is the problem, it’s so reassuring and insightful to connect with something that is perpetual and timeless like a forest.

What is the biggest challenge of being an artist?

The above - but in the best way – and also how to continually explore and stay curious and develop the work. The other challenge for me at the moment is how to produce the volume of work that’s bursting to get out, and that I need to develop the career by stocking various galleries and taking up opportunities. I gave up a career in corporate communications four years ago to be an artist full-time, so there’s a pressure to keep momentum and therefore income without compromising the art.

What advice would you give your younger self?

That it is absolutely possible to make a living from your art, but you must be smart about planning, marketing and finances – and you’ll be surprised how much the future you enjoys that side of it!

Also to be courageous about indulging the art and what it wants of me – especially play, which I need to tell my current self too! My work has improved and my career skyrocketed since I have allowed myself to think bigger, work bigger, experiment more, and invest in the resources to do so more comfortably.

Have you ever used unconvential mediums or techniques?

I’m currently enjoying working with rags and lots of water, because it lessens my control over the work and leaves space for Nature to speak through me.

I lay down very gestural underpaintings this way, then respond to the marks and scrumptious, surprise colour blends as I build the scene.

My desire now is to explore sustainable materials more. I’ve moved my packing and shipping to sustainable choices and now I want to learn how to forage the wildnerness for natural pigments and turn those into handmade paints.

My work is very much about the unique palette of Australia’s greyish, understated colours – contrasted with flashes of brilliance like masses of yellow wattle or our amazing parrots. So sourcing colour direct from the land feels like a natural progression.

I’m excited by the idea of more directly connecting in that way, and what developments will follow in the art itself.

Do you listen to music or have other background noise while you work?

At the moment when I paint in my studio I often play sounds of the forest.

Other favourite playlists are spiritual drum music, didgeridoo or inspiring podcasts. Every now and then you’ll find me dancing while I work to the upbeat, celebratory music of Daphne Willis, Lady Bri or Sophie Tukker – pinching myself that this is my life now.

That said, there’s often so much in my mind, or I’m so zoned out that I don’t notice silence. I also write fiction novels for a hobby, so it’s never quiet in my head!

What’s the best reaction someone has had to your artwork?

The best reaction I’ve had to my work is a viewer shedding tears at the sight of it. It’s happened a few times in various circumstances and it’s so special. Once or twice I get a lump in the throat myself, when something just works so well and I’m in a really happy place in the zone. I love that.

What do you hope people take away from your artwork?

What I hope people get is some sense of their own moment’s connection with Nature. I just feel that it’s such an important aspect of being human, and such a gift. I love the idea of just holding space for viewers to do that, and simply Be for a short while, same as you do when you’re a mammal sitting in the forest.

But really as much as you can feel like your art should have some great message or purpose, I paint because I simply feel compelled to. I see something beautiful or moving or unique and my first thought, for whatever reason, is “I want to paint that”. I can only presume, then, that being a painter is the path chosen for me by beings who are wiser than myself who I ought to listen to!