Artwild Studio

25/09/2026

A toothpick, and some ink 🫟 … suddenly I have a wonderfully unpredictable little mark-making tool.

It creates lines that are finer, scratchier and less controlled than a traditional brush. And that’s exactly the point.

What else could become a drawing tool?
A stick. A piece of cardboard. A sponge. A feather.

23/09/2026

So… could I actually paint a portrait with tea?

After all those little experiments, I thought I should probably put my discoveries to the test.

I started with what the tea had taught me — building up washes, following the little pools and edges that formed as the water dried, and gradually discovering where the darker tones wanted to settle.

It was wonderfully unpredictable.

And then I ran into a problem.

I could only build the tea up so far before the layers started lifting again. I needed a little more contrast than the tea was willing to give me.

So, reluctantly, I introduced a few watercolour pencils.

Not quite tea only, then… but I think that’s part of the fun of experimenting. You start with one idea and the materials have other plans.

I’m still fascinated by how much can come from something so ordinary. A little tea, some paper, water, and a willingness to see what happens.

I think I’ll be drinking my tea a little differently from now on.

22/09/2026

I’ve been playing with tea.

Not drinking it. Painting with it.

I wanted to see just how much I could get out of something as simple as a cup of tea ☕️…how many tonal values I could create, how dark I could go, and what happened when I layered it onto paper.

One of the things I’ve been particularly fascinated by is what happens around the edges. As the water dries, the tannins seem to gather and settle along the boundaries, leaving these wonderfully unpredictable darker lines and shapes.

So I’ve been testing.
Layering. Diluting. Letting things dry. Adding more. Watching what happens.

Some experiments worked beautifully. Others… well, they were useful too.

And somewhere in all those little squares and scribbles, I started wondering:
Could I actually use this to make a portrait?

There was only one way to find out.

Part 2 coming next…

16/09/2026

Welcoming spring back to Aotearoa with bright colours, slow painting and a few sunflower friends to remind us that warmer, lighter days are on their way.

Paint. Pause. Enjoy the sunshine.

31/08/2026

I started with a plan: colour, warmth, sunshine, spring optimism. 🌱

The painting had other ideas.

Somewhere along the way, all those bright intentions descended into a rather moody little landscape. Apparently, the artwork had feelings I hadn’t consulted.

I’m learning to let that happen. Sometimes a painting tells you where it wants to go, and the best thing you can do is listen.

I do rather like the little flashes of colour still trying to make themselves heard through the gloom, though. Perhaps there’s hope in there after all.

28/08/2026

Sometimes, when I’m between projects and inspiration isn’t quite there, I come back to this.

I get lost in the colours.
I follow the patterns.
I make one small decision, then another.

There’s no pressure to make something brilliant. No big idea to chase. Just the quiet satisfaction of looking, noticing and making.

And somewhere along the way, it starts to feel less like working and more like a little moment of mindfulness.

Maybe that’s useful to remember: you don’t have to feel inspired to be creative. Sometimes the act of making is what brings the inspiration back.

So if you’re feeling creatively stuck, perhaps find something small to play with. A pattern. A colour. A scrap of paper. Ten quiet minutes.

You never know where it might take you.

28/08/2026

A fresh perspective

Sometimes you just need to look again.

A little window can reveal something worth keeping.

27/08/2026

👀A fresh perspective🎨

Sometimes you just need to look again.

A little window can reveal something worth keeping.

I found a stack of old experiments tucked away in the studio — little explorations in colour, pattern, mark-making and different media that never quite became anything.

So I started cutting.

By isolating small sections with a simple circular punch, I found myself noticing things I had overlooked the first time around. A colour combination. An interesting pattern. A tiny composition that suddenly felt complete when seen through a different window.

I love this about making art: something doesn’t have to work in the way you originally intended for it to have value.

Sometimes it just needs a fresh perspective.

These little pieces will find new lives — some might become artworks in their own right, others may become part of something entirely different.

There is always the possibility of finding something new in something old.

25/08/2026

I love this, but ... it comes with kind of pressure that everything needs to be profound and meaningful to some future audience, and that takes the joy out of creating something for me... for the NOW.

Powerful, emotional and timeless. It reminds artists that the impact of their work can extend far beyond their own lifetime — even when they can’t see that impact themselves.

Women in Art /
The Women in Art Prize.
WIA