My Favourite Jug began with a simple second-hand find. I was drawn to the jug for its warm copper tones and the way its surface seemed to carry a story, almost like a narrative.

This painting was one of the first works I made after completing our lap of Australia in 2023. After months of painting landscapes from the journey in gouache, returning to a still life in oils felt unfamiliar and slightly daunting. Working with the jug became a way of slowing down and shifting focus from expansive places to an intimate, everyday object.

Although it is largely unrecognisable in the painting, the jug carries an image from the 1800s of a young girl on a swing, with trees and a house in the background. I chose to leave most of this imagery out, allowing only subtle traces to remain and leaving a sense of mystery for the viewer.

This artwork was born from a day of shared making and mutual inspiration. My colleague and friend Paula – an exceptionally talented artist, spent the day painting alongside me in my studio. She arrived with a striking protea from her own garden and a bold black-and-white striped tablecloth, both of which became the main focal points in my painting.

More than a still life, this painting is a reflection of creative companionship. We worked side by side, exchanging thoughtful feedback, celebrating small discoveries, and deepening our shared love of art. The piece speaks to the idea that artists are not meant to work in isolation; growth often happens in conversation, in collaboration, and in the gentle act of seeing through another’s eyes. Sometimes that growth is found in something simple, mixing two colours to find the right tone, or having someone notice what you’ve overlooked.

Paula’s Protea is a tribute to that generosity of shared creative spaces.

Arrangement in Red and White came about through practical necessity as much as creative choice. While traditionalists might question the use of fake flowers, at times they are the only viable option when painting a floral still life. Historically, artists often worked through the night, painting fresh flowers or fruit before they faded, driven by time, obsession, and singular focus. Life today looks very different.

For many contemporary artists, creativity exists alongside work, family, and financial responsibility. The freedom to devote endless hours to art has never been equally available, particularly for women, who were, and still are often expected to prioritise home and family over their own artistic ambitions. While some artists were fortunate enough to have family support systems that enabled them to focus solely on their practice, many others have always had to adapt.

As a teacher, farmer, and practising artist, compromise is sometimes part of the process. Arrangement in Red and White reflects this reality – finding ways to continue making work within the constraints of everyday life. Whether painted from fresh blooms or plastic flowers, the intention remains the same: to observe, respond, and create with care in the moments that are available.

My husband and I were lucky enough to meet my Mum and Son in Bali as part of our year away on our big lap of Australia in 2023. It was a magical three weeks spending time on the mainland and checking out some of the smaller Islands and very special to be there when an important festival was being held.

On every corner small baskets were presented as offerings for the Hindu Gods. Balinese women are responsible for the creation and preparation of offerings, and it is considered an essential skill. Each basket is exquisitely constructed and contains woven palm leaves, bags of rice, a single duck egg and brightly coloured flowers. The colour of the flower is chosen dependent on the Hindu God.

The act of making an offering is seen as an act of self-sacrifice, they are investing a part of themselves in the process and displaying their gratitude for their good fortune to the gods and the universe itself, sadly something we seem to have lost in Western society.