The scarves are made from a blend of 30% silk and 70% cotton.

Tone is one of the most essential, yet often overlooked, elements in landscape painting

As I prepare for the  Found exhibition at Maitland Regional Art Gallery, I’ve been thinking deeply about why I paint landscapes—what keeps drawing me back to the land, brush in hand, and why this practice still feels urgent and alive.

I’m thrilled to share something special with you. From May 16th, a curated selection of my large-scale oil paintings will be on show at The Trove at Leaves & Fishes, Lovedale

In landscape painting, composition is everything.

First blog of the year and thought I would start off with a behind the scenes look at what goes into a new body of work or suite of work.

What an incredibly rewarding and fulfilling year this has been!

Every December, I take time to reflect on the past year and plan for the upcoming year. I look at forthcoming projects, workshops, teaching, volunteering and building connections. When I was planning 2024 last year, I never anticipated how  rewarding it would turn out to be.

I could sit and paint my back yard of the Hunter Valley forever, but my complacency and familiarity would not be beneficial to growth.

Italy seems like a distant yet vivid and magical memory.

About a year ago, I spotted an announcement.

During this trip, my primary objective was to capture the essence of the landscape and the rich vegetation found within this environmentally preserved area, with a particular focus on Coba Point and the surrounding Berowra Creek area.

I’m sure you’ve already heard about the mammoth group exhibition coming up at the beloved Maitland Regional Art Gallery

For me, I feel at peace when I’m sitting outside painting. Nestled amongst the scrub with my tools in hand - it is my happy place. 

Being a painter can often feel like a solitary pursuit. Hours slip by in the studio—sometimes whole days—just me, the brushes, and some music in the background. I love that deep focus, and most of the time I thrive in it. But I’ll admit, it can get a bit lonely too.

The sun setting in the west casts shadows long and blue in the tall grass. Golden hour has begun. She highlights the cobwebs which lace the Eucalypts. Cicadas sing in my ears and I can spy a Wedgetail eagle circling nearby.

I thought it was about time I ventured up into the mountains and painted from the top. The Broken Back Range is part of my everyday view—its presence anchors me.

"Art is not the bread but the wine of life" - Jean Paul

I close my eyes and feel the warm sun on my back, the circling sound of the wind in the grass and the sweep of my brush. There is nothing more tranquil, peaceful and wildly free than being in the Australian bush and painting her splendor.

Having been successful in an application to attend La Macina di San Cresci residency, my family and I travelled to the beautiful and historic town of Greve in Chianti, 50km south of Florence, last year to spend a month at the artistic oasis. 

In Australia, there’s a saying: to blow one’s own trumpet. It means making self-congratulatory statements to raise your own ego or status. It’s generally frowned upon—seen as egotistical