Winter 2024
November...
You are probably wondering why I am in London yet again. The answer to your silly, but more so appropriate, question is actually a name—Tim Burton. If there is an exhibition about the art of Tim Burton showing in London and I am living near-by, you better believe I will be there in awe. To no-ones knowledge but my own (well up until now) I owe this man quite a lot when it comes to my artistic practice.
Growing up I was always a very happy, very brightly smiling kid. Maybe it was the bright blonde hair, or my ability to watch animated movies no matter my age, but I never cared to grow up as fast as everyone else. It wasn’t until I was around 15 that I first dealt with any type of depression. Prior to this I was rarely quiet, I wore bright clothes and never really liked it when rain would take over the sun’s setting. When this overwhelming ache of sadness hit and I could no longer connect to art, I quit. I stopped painting completely and no longer felt a passion for anything creative. I started enjoying grey days and my perceptive aesthetic about my life altered completely.
Still to this day, I don’t know what caused me to pick up that brush again. But through the doubt, I decided to try and paint something. For whatever abrupt reason, I chose to paint Johnny Depp as the Mad Hatter in Tim Burton’s take on Alice in Wonderland. I’m noticing as I write this now that it would seem this story has been a consistently relevant theme in my work, but through the messy acrylic, it was the best thing I had painted up until that point. In some ways, you could say the theme of madness in creativity is what saved my artistic practice. None the less, somehow I had found the dedication and focus to paint again and I haven't taken a break since. So even though I am to give myself some credit for the artful heartache of losing myself, I like to think I have Tim to thank for making it happen the way it did.
With October fading in the distance, (a whole day) my cousin and I were ready to be all consumed in the forthcoming holiday festivities November brings along. I envy those who were able to grow up with Christmas in London, but not having done so myself, I have a new found appreciation for the magic it holds. Though, just like every month I am writing through, our visit came to an end and I was on my way back to my Au Pair family for one final week of ballet classes, cutting crusts of sandwiches, and school drop offs where I carry their twelve bags and they scooter down the sidewalk. In all sincere truth, I’m not sure what I miss more.
Six months can either feel like an entire year or a fever dream. I still haven't determined which one fits in with my time in England, but now that I have flown back to the states and am adjusting to the new things to come, I don’t necessarily care to have it feel one way or the other, at least not with my overwhelming optimism.
I arrived in Atlanta, Georgia after an 8 hour flight ready to greet my mom, just to hop in the car for another three hour journey. Sweet Home Alabama (if that’s what we are still to call it) was back in my life again and might I say, she hasn’t changed. In some ways that makes me smile, and although I never really felt like myself there, and this was the first time I had been in my childhood home without my dog, I am grateful to have somewhere to go back to, even for short periods of my life.
December…
Of every place I have traveled or had the opportunity to live in thus far, I still haven’t found a sky as blue or expressive as Alabamas’.
Upon arriving back home, I decided my next move was ready to be set into action…
With my laptop open, and a dog and cat invading all of my personal space, one might notice the application for an Irish Working Holiday Visa open on my screen. One might also witness me scroll through the site for five minutes before closing the tab, opening Australia’s immigration site, and applying for a visa through them instead. I wish I could tell you what took over me there, I really do. There has never been a point in my life, in which I couldn’t coherently explain my thought process eloquently until now. Because the only singular explanation I have as to why I got this Australian visa after 6 months of telling everyone I was moving to Ireland, does not sound justifiable enough to explain. But for those desperate enough for my answer, I feel like something or someone is waiting for me there. And in those five minutes, I felt drawn to it enough to let whatever rational thought I had left go.
And with that, I’m moving to Australia. That much we have figured out. When is the next question at hand. The annoying tasks that come with moving simply never end and I fear this is how my life is going to be for the next unforeseeable future. However, with that fear comes so many new experiences and opportunities so I'm not one to complain (I'll just cry about it in the process).
The plan thus far is to move to Melbourne come April. Why April you may ask? Well an exciting email appeared in my inbox this past June and my presence has been requested elsewhere during the months of February and March of 2025. More to come on that later, but this leaves me with a good month two months now to plan more a bit more accordingly maybe then in the manner I handled the decision making process to move in general.
These two months now of waiting left me with one question—what should I paint?
Welllll, I’ve had this enormous rush of motivation to paint a portrait. A grand ole portrait of my sibling who has been the most supportive and admirable figure in my life. Wow, isnt she so lucky to have a little sister who speaks of her with such benevolence? Anyways, I decided I would photograph her for said portrait in a way that show the fragility of a woman in an independently yet equally balancing standpoint. She didn’t much enjoy posing for me for 20 minutes whilst holding 15 or so teacups in her arms but that’s not to say that the references were a success. Not to mention I had an excellent painting buddy to keep me company and sleep on my lap in the process.
January…
My favorite month has now come upon us! January has always meant so much to me for reasons I can’t explain. Maybe its that newness feeling, like the air has a new car smell and the sky feels freshly painted. At least for Alabama, January isn’t really a grey month. I always find it to have the clearest skies and cleanest breeze. Naturally, because of this, the seasonal depression everyone else has in January never had an effect on me. This month is always the most inspirationally motivating part of my year. Most of my life, I’ve tended to feel as if I have the seasons backwards. In July, the south experiences hurricane season, which is when my seasonal depression would hit hardest. I crave moody weather and feel immense guilt for not being in a summer mindset. That sunny perspective usually hits me in January instead. Sounds like I've been in line with Australia’s seasons my whole life.
January is also the month of application deadlines in the art world. Residencies, competition's, awards etc. And this January I've made it to the final round of judging for the Herbert Smith Portrait award held at the National Portrait Gallery in London. I was quite shocked at recieving that email notification but even more so when I realized I suddenly had a short time frame to ship this painting to London and that also requires building a stretcher bar and frame for this portrait. I say this like I haven’t built these things in a few hours before, but thank heavens I have access to the tools I needed to build said structures.
(Framed and packed up for her trip to London!)
All that is left on January’s to-do list is pack my bags for a very extraordinary adventure! February can’t come sooner…
