The Hilltops Off The Beaten Track Arts & Cultural Trail opened on 14 March, and I welcomed visitors into the Chesterton studio for my first open studio and abstract art workshop series for 2026.

There’s something quietly exhilarating about allowing people to move through a working studio—it’s a little like inviting them into the mind behind the work, where canvases rest mid-thought and process is still visible on every surface.

Sometimes you need to step away from the studio to remember why you picked up the brush in the first place. In February, I returned to Western Australia for time with family and dear friends.

Before leaving, I closed the studio with care — works brought to a deliberate pause, brushes cleaned, and the space left in quiet readiness for my return. There is a discipline in how an artist leaves a studio, just as there is in how they re-enter it. I came back with my cup overflowing.

One of the great privileges of being an artist in a small, proud community like Boorowa is the chance to collaborate with local makers whose hands carry as much history, skill, and heart as the materials they shape.

For my upcoming collection “Unburdened Bodies” , I have had the immense joy of working alongside Boorowa’s own woodworking genius, Darrell Armour, whose craftsmanship is nothing short of extraordinary.

As we move toward the end of another year filled with change, challenge, and unexpected turns, I’ve been thinking deeply about what art can offer us — not just as decoration, but as something we live with. My work has always carried a quiet thread of hope, and this month I’ve leaned intentionally into that message.

In uncertain times, sometimes what we need most is a visual reminder that resilience is possible … that beauty can still emerge from the unknown … that even when we don’t yet see the path, we can choose to keep walking.

Hosting Radiance in Bloom at my psychology practice rooms on Nasmyth Street felt like watching two parts of my world gently fold into one another.

In the days leading up to opening night, my team and I transformed the entire space — relocating every piece of counselling and psychology related equipment, from office chairs and printers to EMDR light bars, Bi-Tapp tappers, sand trays, art as therapy tools, and the many children’s therapy aides that usually live here. Once cleared, the rooms breathed differently.

Radiance in Bloom was a fabulous exhibition — but behind the scenes, it was an all-out race to the finish line. The official opening was locked in for 4pm on Friday 5 December, perfectly timed just before the 75th National Cherry Festival grand opening at 5pm.

That one-hour buffer became the tightest deadline of my artistic life. What followed was a behind-the-scenes saga of ladders, logistics, teamwork, and sheer Boorowa grit.

Over the past six months, I have had the privilege of welcoming a wonderful group of ex-servicewomen and ex-servicemen to Chesterton Gallery for workshops in the Creative Resilience Art for Wellbeing series.

This program, proudly funded by the Veterans Support Fund on behalf of RSL NSW (Boorowa Sub-Branch), is designed to foster connection, emotional strength, and creative expression for veterans and their family members.

I joined a line-up of stellar women at Harden Murrumburrah Gather & Glow event, which brought together everything I love most.

My “Permission to Shine” workshop - hosted at Harden Country Club - empowered rural women with colour‑therapy acrylic painting, leaving participants with a vibrant, confidence‑boosting canvas. For me, I loved connecting with the group through the vehicle of both art and inner exploration.

The Boorowa Art Show has always felt like a family celebration for me. A chance to hang my work alongside the town’s vibrant Woolfest festivities where locals and visitors alike can enjoy true country style hospitality.

This year the festivities ran from Friday 3 to Sunday 5 October, and the main street transformed into a buzzing hub of colour, music and, of course, the famous “Running of the Sheep”. Watching the sheep dogs try their best to coax the marching ewes up the street, never fails to make me grin; it’s the kind of chaotic charm that reminds me why I love rural events.

Australia’s greatest unsolved art heist: Picasso’s Weeping Woman

The year was 1986, I was five and a half years old, living in the small mining town of Norseman in Western Australia. One August morning, I came across The West Australian newspaper on our dining room table. It featured a striking image on the front page that immediately caught my eye. It was Picasso’s Weeping Woman—sharp angles, anguishing sadness, and a suffering so raw it seemed to spill off the page.

But what truly fascinated me wasn’t just the painting itself—it was the story. Picasso’s 1937 work had been purchased just the year before for A$1.6 million, and it had now been stolen from the National Gallery of Victoria in what would become Australia’s most infamous unsolved art heist.

And then there was the ransom note. The thief—or thieves—hadn’t asked for money.