Tag: Mixed media

Material Abstraction and Belonging: A Visit to the RA

Personal Reflections, Exhibitions & Events

Last week I spent a quiet morning at the Royal Academy. It was one of those visits where you do not go to see art so much as to feel something shift inside you. I filmed a short piece for YouTube called Finding Space at the RA, capturing a moment of stillness in one of the galleries. It was not planned, scripted or staged. It was simply a pause, a breath, inside a room full of colour, texture and human intention.

As someone who works with paint skins, dimensional surfaces and the emotional life of modern work, I am always drawn to spaces where art creates a kind of psychological room. I have been exploring where my work sits in relation to artists like Angel Otero or Kennedy Yanko, and the RA visit helped me feel that connection more clearly. The RA does this beautifully. Even in the busiest exhibitions, there are pockets of quiet where the atmosphere changes and you can sense your own thoughts rearranging themselves.

This visit carried another layer. I have been exploring where my own practice sits within the wider field of material abstraction, especially as I search for other artists who work with skins, poured surfaces and dimensional paint. Walking through the RA, I found myself noticing affinities. The way certain works held space. The way colour behaved under light. The way material choices shaped emotional tone. It reminded me that belonging is not always about finding exact matches. Sometimes it is about recognising echoes.

That is what I wanted to share in the short video. The feeling of stepping out of the noise and into a space that holds you differently. A space that softens edges. A space that lets you think, and lets you locate yourself.

In my own practice, I am exploring how colour, materiality and dimensional surfaces can create that same effect in everyday environments. Meeting rooms, workspaces, places where people gather to make decisions. The RA visit reminded me how essential these moments of spaciousness are. They are not decorative. They are not optional. They are part of how we stay steady, present and connected in the rhythm of working life.

If you haven’t seen the YouTube Short yet, you can watch it here: Finding Space at the RA

I will be sharing more reflections like this. Small moments, quiet observations, and the ways art helps us navigate complexity with a little more clarity and warmth. Sometimes the most meaningful shifts happen in the pauses.

Why this matters

In leadership development and executive learning, we talk a lot about clarity, presence and psychological flexibility. These qualities do not appear out of nowhere. They are shaped by the environments we inhabit. Art can create the conditions for better thinking. Calmer nervous systems. Softer interpersonal edges. A sense of groundedness that supports wise decision making.

If moments like this resonate with you, you might enjoy the chromatic material pieces I am developing for workspaces. Functional sculptures, paint skin lighting and dimensional surfaces designed to bring clarity and emotional presence into everyday environments.

And perhaps most importantly, I left the RA feeling encouraged to submit next year. A small but meaningful step in claiming my place within material abstraction, and continuing the search for where my work belongs.

How Tracey Emin’s Boldness Deepens My Craft‑Led Approach to Art for Workspaces

Exhibitions & Events

A visit that opened a deeper connection

I visited the Tate Modern on a very busy second day of Tracey Emin’s Second Life exhibition. This exhibition runs until August. I went expecting to be interested. However, I did not expect to feel such a strong sense of affinity with her work. Her installation My Bed was there, and I was surprised by how long I stood in front of it. I kept taking it in, noticing the layers, the objects, the emotional charge. There was so much to absorb and I found myself captivated by the honesty of it.

A shelf with blue background featuring many small miniture artworks of Tracy Emin
Miniature paintings and drawings near the entrance at Tate Modern’s show of Tracey Emin 2026

Craft as a language of emotional honesty

As I moved through the exhibition, I realised how many points of connection I felt with her practice. It was not the autobiographical exposure or the presentation of her physical body. That is not where my own work lives.

Handwritten text and appliqué as emotional markers

Picture of Tracy Emins artwork which is blanket with names and dates appliqued. Colours are pink, plue and gold fabric

What resonated was her use of craft. The stitching, the embroidery, the appliqué letters, the handwritten text. These are materials and methods I have used quietly for years. I have worked with fabrics, hand sewing, and embroidered photographs. Yet, I have often felt embarrassed about hand stitching. It seemed to belong to a private world that should not be visible in contemporary art. And I was encouraged to see some of the quilters exhibited in USA art galleries like the Smithsonian.

Stitching and embroidery as serious artistic tools

Seeing Emin’s craft presented with such authority changed something for me. Her materials were not softened or made polite. They were not decorative. They were direct, emotional, and unapologetic. Her applique lettering in particular stayed with me. The uneven edges, the rawness of the cut fabric, the sense that the words were lived rather than designed. It gave me permission to explore signage and text in my own work. Her work told me I could do this without smoothing the edges or making everything tidy in my abstract paintings. It reminded me that clarity does not require prettiness.

Embroidered piece in Tracy Emin’s Tate Exhibition
An appliqued artwork on an upholstered chair at Tate Modern by Tracy Emin

The expressive power of the drip

I was also struck by the messy drips running down many of her large scale works. They were not accidental. They were not cleaned up. They were part of the emotional structure of the piece. I use drips too. I learned this technique at the Central St Martins course I attended.

Drips as a truthful response to organisational life

A framed abstract art print featuring flowing black lines and light colours, displayed on a white surface with a black base. A small sign indicates the price.
An expressive art print showcasing abstract lines and drips, reflecting emotional depth and honesty.

I often worried that poured pains and drip work make my work look messy or unfinished. But standing in front of her canvases, I understood something important. The drip is not a flaw. It is a form of honesty. In my own practice, the drip acknowledges the realism of organisational life. The parts that are gory, unpredictable, complex, and resistant to cosmetic treatment. To restrain my mark for the sake of prettiness would mean participating in a surface level gloss. This gloss often hides how work actually feels. Emin’s drips reminded me that boldness is not about being loud. It is about being real with the marks.

Where our practices diverge

There are places where our practices diverge. Emin uses her body as a site of truth telling. I use materiality. She reveals the self directly. I reveal it through construction, colour, texture, and layered surfaces. But the emotional triggers behind the work feel familiar. The lived experiences. The internal negotiations. The moments of rupture and repair.

Unmade bed with crumpled sheets and pillows, surrounded by scattered items on a blue rug, including toys and miscellaneous objects.
Tracey Emin’s impactful installation ‘My Bed’, featuring rumpled bedding and scattered personal items, encapsulating emotional honesty.

My work expresses these themes through abstraction and craft. This approach differs from confession. This difference helps collectors understand the kind of presence my work brings into a room. It is not autobiographical exposure. It is emotional resonance.

What this means for art in a home office

As I left the exhibition, I wrote in the visitors book. I wrote about boldness. I wrote about hope. I wrote about the relief of seeing craft treated as a serious artistic language. And I realised that this is exactly what I want my work to bring into someone’s home office. Pride in who they are and how they work. Courage to express their own boldness. Recognition of the complexities of business, economics, and organisational life. Colour and texture that shift the emotional temperature of a room. A sense of companionship from a piece that understands the messiness of ambition.

For some people, this will be a small, bright artwork. It sits on a shelf or desk and lifts the atmosphere of the space. For others, it will be a larger commissioned piece. It transforms a moody or neutral room into something alive. The room becomes grounded and emotionally intelligent. Both are part of the same intention. To bring honesty, colour, and courage into the spaces where we think, work, and make decisions.

Closing reflections on boldness and presence

Emin’s exhibition helps me see my own practice differently. It shows that it sits within a lineage of artists. These artists refuse to tidy the truth. The stitches, the drips, the uneven edges, the layered surfaces. These are not imperfections. They are evidence of a life being lived and understood. They are reminders that work, like art, is rarely neat. There is beauty in acknowledging that messiness. It might sit quietly as a piece of original art on your shelf.

Art that shifts the emotional temperature of a workspace

If you want a piece that brings this kind of presence into your home office, explore the smaller works. They are ready to place on your bookshelf.

If you are imagining something larger and more personal for your space, I would be glad to discuss a commission.

I hope this reflection on Emin’s boldness inspires you to bring a little more of your own boldness into the room where you work.

Autumn reflections on the summer of Transforming Paint Skins into Unique Jewellery, Alcohol Ink art Experiments and asserting my statement

Personal Reflections

Even with a busy 9-5 schedule, I’ve managed to find some time to experiment. I focus on recovery and taking care of my well-being during downtime. I’ve experimented with creating new items, like transforming my paint skins into brooches, necklace pendants, and cuff links.

I’ve also been painting with alcohol inks and love the wispy ethereal abstract results I get.

I’ve started to understand the ethos of my mark-making. This allows me to start asserting the components of an artist statement for my creations. It’s all about providing an opportunity to focus on the mess.

https://videopress.com/v/zSGCchgQ?resizeToParent=1&cover=1&autoPlay=0&controls=1&loop=0&muted=0&persistVolume=1&playsinline=0&preloadContent=metadata&sbc&sbpc&sblc&useAverageColor=1

What do you think about choosing art that portrays the reality of messy situations vs clear, crisp representations of things? It speaks to my critical realism.

Incorporating my urban landscape

Symbolism & Storytelling in Art

I live in West London. These are photos of the wintery views this week. I was mesmerised by the ghostly set of buildings arising from the Olympia vicinity. I was transfixed on the building cluster in the distance that seemed to appear and sometime not appear, as if a mirage.

Foggy atmospheric day the Olympia complex is looking ghostly as the future of the area becomes apparent.
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Ethereal Experiments

Personal Reflections

I was thinking 🧐 of contrasts and reducing my colour palette recently. Below are a couple of images where I played with new forms and hues. This week I was struck by the work of Mexican artist Sandra del Pilar and British artist Sahara Longe. Both seem to assert figures of humanity in subtle ways. I like how their figures seem to give way to the paint and colour form.

My ink drops play for a ghostly theatre round abstract
Continue reading “Ethereal Experiments” →