Well, hello there! It’s still one of those stretches where the world feels a bit… muffled. I have another funeral on Friday. There not been much art as a result.

However, nature, in her infinite wisdom, always provides a path back, and for me, that path often involves a paintbrush and a good dose of curiosity. It’s a wonderful thing, how art and nature together can be such powerful healers, gently nudging me back towards to feeling more grounded.

This past week, I found myself drawn back in through a particularly mindful exercise. Instead of my usual aim of sitting and painting to produce a finished piece (too much ATM), I simply focused on colour, and how fleeting moments of light transform it.

With all the summer storm intensity I’ve been experiencing – from dramatic bruised clouds to the sudden bursts of sunshine – I’ve been gazing out watching how the light shifts, playing tricks with what I see. One moment, the nature is bathed in a soft, diffused glow, making the greens sing; the next, a sharp ray of sun hits a patch of Foxgloves (Digitalis purpurea), Candytuft flowers (Iberis sempervirens), or Sweet Peas (Lathyrus odoratus), making their magenta and purples spots pop with incredible brilliance.

This ever-changing light, so characteristic of a Lancashire summer on the coast, seems to have amplify the colour drama everywhere, due to the array of flowers, plants, and weather patterns that are in flux. So, my week has been about playful exploration. I’ve spent some time indulging in colour. Just grabbing a round brush and creating loose swatches, blending analogous colours – those lovely neighbours on the colour wheel that just seem to get along famously.

Some swatches have been the fiery dance from reds to yellow using Daniel Smith’s luscious Quinacridone Burnt Orange, the sunny glow of Aussie Gold, and the cheerful zing of Lemon Yellow. I’ve dipped into the verdant world of greens to blues, watching how Schmincke’s Shire Green melted into Green Gold, before flowing into the deep aquatic tones of Phthalo Blue Green and the dreamy luminescence of Sleeping Beauty Turquoise.I journeyed from blues through to purples too, with the intense Mayan Dark Blue giving way to the moody granulation of Moonglow, the mystical shimmer of Amethyst, and the vibrant pop of Quinacridone Magenta.

This isn’t just mark making with paint. The benefits of exploring in this way are immense. It genuinely deepens my knowledge of my materials. I begin to understand more about my pigments – how they interact, how some play together, how others stubbornly repel each other (yes, I’m looking at you, certain phthalo blues, trying to take over!).

In a world that often measures the ‘value’ of art by whether it’s destined for a gallery wall, a commercial product, or a price tag, I find it incredibly important to remember that art’s truest worth often lies elsewhere entirely. I’m sharing these pages to say the value can be found in the process of doing, in the simple act of exploration, mindfulness and in the learning that happens along the way. It isn’t about making or creating for anyone else.

So, if you’re reading this and feeling a bit grey around the edges, consider my post a provocation to simply play.