What happens when the painting you love is the one no one else chooses?
In 2021, I made a painting that I loved. I was working towards a large solo exhibition in North Yorkshire (I think there were over 40 paintings in total) and I made huge leaps in my work that year. I began to incorporate vintage papers as a base layer; I became much more free and loose with my mark-making and I created paintings that were alive with energy. But this one in particular felt special.
It was an abstract landscape infused with my favourite natural colours, texture, and energy. The layers of vintage paper told quiet stories beneath the paint, adding depth and dimension. It felt, to me, like a celebration of everything I’d learned and everything I hoped to express. It also felt like a signpost to the future, whispering "this way, try more of this next time, venture out further next time."
The exhibition was wonderful. Lots of people came from far and wide and most of the paintings found new homes. Nearly every piece resonated with someone - but not this one. This painting stayed behind, untouched and unchosen.
At first, I wondered why. Was it too bold? Too layered? Too… me?
But of course, it was none of those things. In the quiet days after the exhibition, I had time to reflect and I came to an important realisation: the joy I feel in a painting isn’t changed by its eventual fate. And the importance of a painting has nothing to do with its financial value.
That painting led directly into my next series of work, which departed almost entirely from landscape. It encouraged me to play with new mediums, tools, and techniques, and it led me to some wonderful discoveries.
I've been thinking of this painting a lot lately, because I'm teaching a course where I am pushing my students to try new things, to venture into the unknown, and to take lots of risks. I am also encouraging them to be their own cheerleaders and to avoid seeking validation from others.
This last part is often the hardest for newer artists. At the beginning, we care very much what other people think. We want to make sales, or win awards, or simply get lots of compliments. But as we gain experience, we realise that none of these things bring happiness or fulfillment. We simply can’t be guided by the opinions or choices of others. The only real reward is making something that matters to us.
This painting, with all its complexity and energy, is still teaching me to trust myself and my instincts. It feels more like a declaration now—a reminder to forge ahead with authenticity, knowing that what brings me joy is enough.
