A year of returning to paint

Last summer, I found myself looking at watercolours and illustrations in details in the books I read to my kids, the walls of the restaurants and places we were visiting, tempting me to dive into the world of painting!

For quite some time, my creative journey revolved around linocut, cyanotype and digital illustration — processes I deeply admire and I will am sure get back to at some point. They were structured and purposeful, but required a lot of preparation time, set-up, tools cleaning... when not only waiting for the sun to show up for a perfect cyanotype. It was perfect at the time, but over time, I realised I needed to slow down, and drawing and painting could be an amazing opportunity.

I began using watercolour as a practice tool rather than a finished outcome — an exciting way to explore ideas, seasonal themes, and little studies without any pressure. Working with A5 and A4 sizes made it feel wonderfully manageable, something I could eagerly return to in those precious brief moments.

As the months flew by, painting blossomed from a simple exercise into a delightful conversation. I started blending ink and watercolour, beginning with sepia lines drawn with a fountain pen, then layering colours on top. Gouache naturally followed, allowing me to infuse depth, light, and subtle contrast. I love the more opaque touches it can bring and how it can be used to add on to a more subtle watercolour painting.

What truly amazed me was how this shift transformed my creative relationship. Painting invited me to slow down, embrace the unknown, and let go of the need for perfection, but has also allowed me to produce a lot more... I can sketch one evening, paint a lunchtime, continue in the evening... With limited studio time, this felt absolutely essential. I wasn’t aiming to produce more — I was discovering how to be more present with each piece.

This joyful return to painting also reshaped what visually captivated me. I found myself drawn to quiet scenes — small harbours, seaside views, ports and harbours - places I've loved since teenage hood. These works aren’t always tied to a specific location; they’re more about atmosphere, memory, and pause.

Le Phare de Men Ruiz - So many slow family afternoon walks have taken place by this lighthouse in Perros-Guirec

Reflecting on the year, I see this not as a change in direction but as a beautiful reconnection. Painting reminded me why I fell in love with creating art in the first place — not just to produce objects, but to craft spaces: for observation, calm, and reflection.

As my practice continues to evolve, watercolour and gouache have joyfully claimed a central role. They now complement my earlier work and as daylight increases everyday I'm already starting to think about some Cyanotype I will do this summer and how this could be combined with Watercolour and Gouache. I love mixing techniques. This studio note is simply a joyful reminder - to celebrate art in all its forms and to eagerly anticipate where it leads next.