Creative Process & Development: May 2025
May arrived with colours in full bloom and a quiet question echoing beneath it all: How do I return to making, again and again, even when I have been absorbed into other roles, spaces and iussues? This month, the rhythm of my creative practice continued to shift—sometimes gently, sometimes with frustrations. Here are some notes from the path:
Gelli Plate Explorations & Some Trees
The Gelli Plate continued to be a companion. I’m still exploring how this process can support me, both technically and emotionally. On the road with my sketchbook I found myself layering trees onto prepped Gelli Plate backgrounds using Neocolor II—and something worked. It wasn’t just about the outcome, but the way colour, texture, and layering began to speak to each other. Still many directions to explore here.
"Look for Joy": Reminders & Permission Slips
For a conference hosting team I was part of, I created a small set of reminders or permission slips carrying the phrase "Look for joy." Simple cards, small in size, but powerful in intention. They felt like quiet companions to carry in one’s pocket—and a good reminder to myself, too.
Find the joy - Reminders
A Call from the Garden & Some Invisible Barriers
The garden this May was stunning. Flowers in full expression, calling out with scent and colour and aliveness. And yet, I noticed a resistance in myself: a sense of not being able to draw them. As if there was an invisible barrier. A fear of not getting them "right."
It reminded me of that idea—that what sometimes gets in the way of creating is our taste. That our sense of what is good or beautiful doesn’t always align with our current skill or practice. I’ve been sitting with this tension: the longing to express deeper, finer textures and the sense that I’m still far from where I want to be. And yet, I know it’s practice.
I ended up spending a few evenings with the Iris flowers, gently sketching something of them in 5 minutes - not to get the shape, yet more of a way to spend time with them; hang out with them.
Iris in our garden
Joy-Filled Flowers: Learning in Layers
To soften this resistance, I signed up for an online course called Joy-Filled Flowers by Helen Wells. It offered space to experiment, but also structure and guidance—which felt good. I appreciated the simple frameworks: working with composition (something I feel quite unpracticed in), exploring colour through thumbnails, and using constraints (time, palette, shape, …) to foster creativity.
Surprisingly, a few abstracts emerged that I liked. They held something of the feeling I long to create. A bit of style, a bit of emotion. And I found value in the questions we were asked when looking at others' artwork:
What feeling does this artwork give you?
What stands out about the composition?
How would you describe the colour palette? What colours are you drawn to?
What calls to you or grabs your attention?
What do you notice about how the artist has applied the materials?
How would you describe this artwork in a few words?
How has the artist used light and dark?
Is there a clue or signpost you might carry into your own work?
These questions slowed me down. Invited me to linger. To move from imitation to a deeper kind of noticing. That feels like something I want to carry forward.
Joy-filled Flowers inspiration
Studio Shelves & Seeing What I Have
A small shift with a big effect: I finally got new studio shelves. Now I can see my paints, and that alone is making it easier to use them. It feels more like a studio. Like something is taking form.
Looking Ahead: June and Beyond
There are a few threads I want to keep following into the coming weeks:
Using the reflective questions above—both for other people’s work and my own
Continuing with the Joy-Filled Flowers course
Exploring more abstract backgrounds
Finding ways to return to my creative practice after days spent in other kinds of work
Revisiting tone & value through Emma Carlisle’s teachings from January
Developing a Leporello Flyer project over the summer
For now, I’m learning to stay with the process. To return to it like a familiar path in the forest—even if sometimes overgrown, or temporarily lost from view.
Re-Finding Beauty, May 2025