Nov 174 min read

PAINT YOUR CEILING YELLOW

Sitting at my kitchen table this Sunday morning, I find myself wondering what to share with you. The end of the year is rushing towards us—no surprise really, as this whole year has felt like a whirlwind. Looking back, I think it’s been a year full of reflection for me. Maybe it’s the stage of life I’m in, one where I have a little more space to pause and consider things. Or maybe it’s simply that the passing of time feels more precious these days.

The question that keeps nudging me is, “What are you waiting for?” and its persistent companion, “If not now, when?”

I’m lucky enough to still have both of my parents in their 70s, and I’ve always loved the perspective of having them 20-something years ahead of me. But now, I can’t help but notice that I’m not so far behind. I’m well, thankfully, but I’m increasingly aware of how fragile life can be, as friends and loved ones face their own health challenges.

So often, we live as if there’s all the time in the world, planning for a future we assume will come. We get caught up in the small stuff—what’s for dinner, when is that bill due, what are we doing for Christmas? But this year, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t just swept along by the current. I wanted to look back and feel I’d done things that mattered, even in the smallest ways.

As the year wraps up, I’m taking time to reflect—not just on what’s happened but on what I want the next year to feel like. What do I want to change? What’s worked, and what hasn’t? What beliefs have held me back? And, most importantly, am I still creating in a way that feels true to my values, both as an artist and a human being?

Even during the hard times, reflection often reveals so many good things. Here are some of the moments I’m holding onto from this year:

Good Things That Happened This Year

I survived another year as a full-time artist

There were definitely moments when I thought I might have to find another job—when my bank account was dangerously low, and I felt that familiar panic. But I held my nerve (and my breath!) and made it through. I’ve realised from talking to other creatives that this feeling never entirely goes away. It’s about staying in the flow and trusting the process.

I had my first gallery solo show

This has been a dream for so long. If you’d told me in art school over 20 years ago that it would take this long, I might have thought twice! But looking back, I have no regrets. I needed those years to grow into the person I am now and to make the work I’m making. Seeing so many of those paintings find new homes has filled my heart.

I made time for friends

Covid gave us introverts the perfect excuse to hide away, and I definitely fell into that habit. But this year, I knew I needed to break out of it. I’ve been guilty of using work deadlines as an excuse not to socialise, but thankfully, many of my friends felt the same need for connection. Regular creative meetups with like-minded friends have been one of my greatest joys this year. They inspire me, keep me grounded, and remind me how much we need each other.

I started looking after myself better

Good health isn’t guaranteed, and I’ve realised it takes effort to maintain it. For too long, I put self-care on the back burner, promising myself I’d eat better, go for that walk, or exercise after the next deadline. This year, I’ve tried to make it a bigger priority, though it’s still a work in progress.

I got my first tattoo!

I’ve been thinking about getting a tattoo for years, even saving ideas on Pinterest. What held me back was the fear of choosing something and then finding something I liked more. But my solo show, Where Wild Flowers Bloom, felt like the perfect reason to finally take the leap. That little voice asking, “If not now, when?” pushed me to make the appointment, and I’m so glad I did. I love it and can’t believe I waited so long.

We painted our ceiling yellow

After six years of living without proper wardrobes, we decided on a whim during Cup Weekend to forgo Coldplay tickets and spend the money on our bedroom instead. Two weeks later, it was transformed—and we couldn’t be happier. It feels like a whole new space, and it’s amazing how much calmer and more spacious our home feels now.

Oh, and the yellow ceiling? It’s a warm Mediterranean ochre that’s somehow both summery and cosy. I love it.

Of course, I know how privileged I am to have these moments to celebrate, and I don’t take them for granted. This year has been challenging for so many. The world feels heavy at times, and like many of you, I’ve had to rewrite some of the stories I tell myself about how life should be.

But one thing I’ve learned is that we all have the power to find little joys, even in hard times. So, if you’re feeling low, paint your ceiling yellow—or do whatever brings you a spark of joy.

Here’s to making the most of the time we have and holding onto the good things, no matter how small.