Beyond the Scenery: What I'm Really Searching For in the Studio

For a long time, artists and writers have talked about nature as a place of wellbeing. And it’s true, simply stepping outside, breathing in the air, or looking at a tree releases endorphins and improves our mood. Nature heals us just by existing.

But lately, I’ve realised my focus as an artist has shifted.

What I’m looking for now goes a layer deeper than capturing a landscape because it’s relaxing. I’m no longer painting nature as an escape from overwhelm; I’m painting belonging.

When you look closely at the natural world, it is built entirely on connection. Watch how birds gather, how familiar plants anchor themselves to a specific location, or how items passed down through generations carry the weight of human hands and history.

These aren't just decorative elements. To me they are symbols of how we find our footing in the world.

I’ve noticed that what I paint hasn't fundamentally changed, I am still drawn to the birds, the coast, the plants, and the quiet spaces. But how and why I paint them has shifted.

There is a profound sense of freedom that comes with this realisation. It’s a letting go of my focus on a time of overwhelm in my life.

Now, stepping into the studio I feel a renewed energy. When I photograph a familiar plant or paint the curve of a vase I remember from childhood, I am exploring how these things connect to our sense of place. They remind us of who we are, who we loved, and where we fit in the world.

The landscapes and birds are still there, but they are now represent a deeper human truth: that belonging impacts our wellbeing in ways far deeper than a breath of fresh air ever could. It is the bedrock of our lives.

Have you noticed how certain objects, plants, or places in your home instantly ground you and bring a sense of belonging? I’d love to hear what they are.