Colour and Light on the Downs
Painting from study
In a previous blog, I wrote about attending courses at Seawhite Studios in Partridge Green—an important part of my wellbeing. I feel lucky to live so close to such an unusual and inspiring art space, run by a community of talented artists.
Recently, however, I found myself feeling a little restless with the work I was producing—or even tempted to produce. I was recycling the same drawings and sketches, trying to breathe new life into them, but they no longer felt fresh.
When I saw that Emily Ball and Katie Sollohub were running Colour and Light on the Downs through Seawhite Studios, it seemed the perfect antidote to my creative block—and an ideal way to gather fresh inspiration before joining a five-day untaught residency.
The two-day workshop took place on the Sussex Downs, based at the beautiful Truleigh Centre overlooking Shoreham and the surrounding countryside. It was both inspiring and challenging. On the first day, we braved relentless wind and rain to walk the downs, searching for inspiration and making quick sketches. The conditions forced me to work loosely and instinctively, resulting in wonderfully waterlogged drawings. Over the two days, I walked the undulating landscape, pausing to sketch while listening to the wind, rain, cows and skylarks. Surrounded by the magnificence of the scenery, the energy of fellow participants and the encouragement of the tutors, I produced a wealth of simple sketches that set me up perfectly for the residency.
The residency itself was intimate: just five participants plus the tutor, who worked alongside us rather than teaching. With only six people in the studio, there was ample space to spread out, pin up our sketches and canvases, and make full use of the tables, refreshments and well-stocked art library.
Each of us worked independently, bringing our own subjects and ideas. We were respectful of one another’s process, offering feedback only when asked. I found the environment deeply motivating—observing the different ways others approached their work encouraged me to push myself, stay focused, and avoid procrastination. When I felt uncertain about my next step, I resisted the urge to give up.
By the end of the five days, I was delighted with what I had created. In fact, I used up all six of the stretched canvases I’d brought and had to continue on unstretched canvas. I was also surprised by how much knowledge from past learning resurfaced—skills I hadn’t consciously thought about in years emerged naturally from my subconscious.
Since then, I’ve revisited older canvases I once considered finished, seeing new possibilities in them. I’m learning to trust myself more—to remember that everything I need is already within me. I’ve also slowed my process, taking time to sit with a painting before making changes, and even producing colour sketches on paper first (something I used to be too impatient to do).
Beyond painting, I’ve attended a natural dyeing course to expand my textile knowledge, and I’m exploring further workshops in underpainting, colour theory and abstract expressionism.
Looking ahead, I feel both excited and a little uncertain. There are so many directions I could take—returning to the Downs with a fresh perspective, deepening my understanding of colour, or even weaving together painting and textiles in new ways. What matters most is not rushing, but allowing curiosity to guide me. The residency reminded me that inspiration often arrives when I’m prepared to let go of control and simply show up to the work.
My next step may not yet be clear, but I know I need to keep making, keep experimenting, and keep trusting the process. Each course, each sketch, each canvas is a stepping stone—part of an unfolding journey I’m still learning to embrace.