The 2000s were the years I truly tested what it meant to be a full-time artist – all the ups, downs and in-betweens. There’s no tidy formula for how I’ve ended up where I am now, but I do believe in a mix of hard work and a little luck: the right time, the right place, and the right painting in front of the right person.
What I don’t believe in are shortcuts. A painting career is built by showing up in the studio day after day – working, playing, experimenting, and being willing to start again when something isn’t right. I’m not precious about failed pieces: if a painting isn’t working, it goes in the bin and I move on.
People often buy art to live with – to hang above the sofa, to sit happily with the curtains or the rug – and I don’t see that as a “come down” at all. I feel enormous joy and satisfaction every time someone chooses to put one of my paintings in their home. It’s a privilege to share their space.
After my first solo show at the Mundaring Arts Centre in 1999, I began exhibiting pastel drawings at various private school fundraising shows. They were wonderful opportunities to get my work seen, meet new people, and make those crucial early sales that kept me going.
One of those shows changed everything. A curator from the Blue Duck Café in Cottesloe saw my work and invited me to hold a solo exhibition there – on one condition. She wanted paintings on canvas, not pastels, and she wanted them to reflect the colour and life of Cottesloe Beach.
So I took a deep dive back into oil paint, drawing on everything I’d learned at art school. The 2002 exhibition at the Blue Duck was a sell-out, and I was thrilled (and slightly stunned) to be offered a second show with the same success.
Blue Duck Cafe painting
From that exhibition I was picked up by Gullotti Gallery. Paul had just opened a beautiful space in Murray Street, Perth, and what a ride he took me on. It felt like everything I painted, he sold.
In 2003 I held my first solo exhibition at Gullotti Gallery. Red Beach was a great success and a real turning point in my career.
Three works from the Red Beach Exhibition at Gullotti Gallery
During those years I painted every day from my Red Shed Studio in our Mundaring garden. We’d installed an old Metters wood stove to keep me warm through those freezing hills winters. Next to the stove sat a very comfortable old armchair where I’d curl up, stare at the works in progress and think about the next move. Curled up beside me, more often than not, was my faithful red cloud kelpie, Cherry Blossom.
Me painting at my Red Shed Studio.
My faithful red cloud kelpie, Cherry Blossom.
That studio taught me how important a good working space is – a place that feels like yours, where you can make a mess, make mistakes, and make discoveries. It truly was my sanctuary.
Paul and I eventually parted ways and I moved on to other gallery representation. I’ve learned that sometimes you have to keep moving: the work evolves, galleries change ownership or direction, and you need to be brave enough to leave if the relationship no longer fits.
Over the years I’ve been fortunate to be represented by some wonderful galleries, including Monart Gallery, Margaret River Gallery, Jahroc Gallery, Red Hill Gallery in Brisbane, The Port Douglas Gallery, Yallingup Gallery, Gallows Gallery, Black Stump Gallery and Applecross Gallery.
In my next newsletter, I’ll share some of the highlights from those years – gallery stories, artist-in-residence experiences, solo exhibitions and a few memorable art prizes along the way.
See you soon.