26/05/2026
Starting to paint again feels like answering a quiet pull I’ve felt for a long time, one shaped by my Nana May and the work she created with such care.
Her paintings showed me that creativity is a living thing—something that grows through patience, feeling, and persistence.
Now, as I return to painting, I know my work isn’t perfect, but it doesn’t need to be.
Each brushstroke is movement in the right direction, a small continuation of her influence, and a way of honouring the inspiration she gave me simply by doing what she loved.
It feels like a bridge between me and her. Something unspoken but deeply felt—where what she began lives on through what I am still discovering.
