Some Paintings Need Time

There are paintings that arrive quickly.

And then there are paintings that quietly wait for us.

Holding Light was one of those.

She began life as a demonstration painting during one of my workshops at Greenhills Art Centre in Western Australia. The following week, life took an unexpected turn as I headed back into surgery. The painting stayed exactly where I’d left her, resting on the easel in the corner of my studio.

For months, every time I walked through the room, I’d glance across at her and think, I’ll come back to you soon.

But “soon” has a way of stretching when life asks something different of us.

There were appointments to attend, family to care for, workshops to prepare and the quiet work of healing that can’t be hurried. The days filled themselves, as they always do, and the painting continued to wait.

This winter, I finally picked up my brushes again.

As I mixed colours and began laying down those final layers of paint, something unexpected occurred to me.

Perhaps the painting hadn’t been waiting for me at all.

Perhaps we’d both simply been waiting for the right time.

It felt a little like catching up with an old friend.

As each brushstroke found its place, I realised Holding Light couldn’t have been finished any earlier. She needed time, just as I did.

I think we often imagine an artist’s life as one painting flowing neatly into the next.

In reality, creativity moves with the rhythm of ordinary life.

Paintings wait while we heal.

They wait while we care for the people we love.

They wait while washing piles mysteriously multiply, diaries become crowded and mornings begin before we’re quite ready for them.

The work doesn’t disappear.

It simply waits with remarkable patience.

Lately, as I’ve been driving across Perth on crisp winter mornings, the sunrise has become my quiet companion. I’m not naturally a morning person, but winter has one wonderful advantage—it brings dawn to a much more civilised hour.

Soft pinks spill across the sky. Gentle gold light catches the eucalyptus trees before the day properly begins.

Those fleeting moments remind me why I paint.

Not simply to paint flowers or fruit.

But to notice.

To hold onto a little of that quiet beauty before it disappears.

Perhaps that’s what creativity asks of us more than anything else.

Not constant productivity.

Not perfection.

Simply attention.

Because creativity isn’t something that vanishes when life becomes busy. It doesn’t stop belonging to us because we’ve stepped away for a while.

It waits.

Patiently.

Ready for the moment we return.

Perhaps there is something quietly waiting for you too.

A sketchbook.

A garden.

A half-finished project.

A conversation.

Or simply the time to notice the winter light falling across your kitchen table.

If so, I hope you know there’s no rush.

Some beautiful things simply need time.

The Day I Learned to See Kings Park

For almost ten years after moving to Western Australia, I didn’t really understand Kings Park.

I’d visit for the beautiful views across the Swan River and the city skyline, but the gardens themselves left me a little underwhelmed. Compared to the grand botanical gardens I’d visited elsewhere, there were no sweeping displays of colourful flowers.

Instead, there was bushland.

It wasn’t until much later that I realised that was exactly what made it so extraordinary.

Western Australia is home to one of the richest collections of plant life in the world. The south-west of our state is recognised internationally as a biodiversity hotspot, with thousands of plant species found nowhere else on Earth. Kings Park celebrates this remarkable flora, bringing together the largest collection of Western Australian native plants in one place while protecting large areas of natural bushland.

Back then, though, I didn’t know any of that.

To me, a eucalyptus was simply… a eucalyptus.

Everything changed during a walk through Kings Park with an artist friend in 2018.

As we wandered through the Western Australian Botanic Garden, she stopped beneath a flowering Eucalyptus pyriformis.

“Have you ever seen one of these?” she asked.

I hadn’t.

Standing beneath those deep crimson blossoms, I suddenly realised I’d been walking past these incredible trees for years without ever noticing them.

A little further along the path, another tree grabbed my attention..

It was a Eucalyptus macrocarpa.

Its enormous silver-blue leaves framed velvety crimson flowers dusted with golden pollen. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before. A flower as big as my head!

Not long afterwards, I painted my first Australian native flower.

I called it Emergence.

Looking back, the name seems strangely fitting. That painting marked the beginning of a completely new direction in my work. It was later licensed as part of John Sands’ Our Australia greeting card collection, but its greatest gift was introducing me to the extraordinary beauty of Australia’s native flora.

Since then, I’ve painted many species, but the graceful Silver Princess (Eucalyptus caesia) has become one of my favourites. Every flower has its own personality, and every season offers something new to discover.

These days, I still walk through Kings Park with my camera.

Sometimes I come home with hundreds of photographs.

Sometimes just one.

But I’ve learned that one photograph can become a painting, and one moment of noticing can change the way you see the world.

I often think about the person I was when I first arrived in Western Australia, wondering what everyone else loved about Kings Park.

Now I understand.

Kings Park didn’t change.

I did.

The Quiet Gift of Paying Attention

This morning, as I sat with my first cup of coffee, the soft pink light of a winter sunrise filtered through the eucalyptus trees across the park. The branches moved gently in the breeze while the scent of woodsmoke drifted from nearby fireplaces. It lasted only a few minutes before the light changed, but it was enough to stop me where I was.

Moments like these remind me why I paint.

People often ask what inspires my work, expecting me to name a particular flower or a favourite place. The truth is, inspiration rarely arrives in grand moments. More often, it quietly appears while I’m making a cup of tea, walking through Kings Park, arranging a few pears on the studio table, or noticing how the afternoon light falls across my studio table.

Painting has changed the way I look at the world.

Before I became an artist, I probably would have admired a eucalyptus tree and kept walking. Now I find myself noticing the soft blue-grey on one leaf, the warm blush hidden inside a gum blossom, or the tiny shadows that make a banksia cone feel almost sculptural.

The more I paint, the more I realise that beauty rarely demands our attention. It simply waits for us to notice it.

I think that’s one of the unexpected gifts of having a creative practice. It trains your eyes long before it trains your hands.

People often tell me they wish they had more creativity in their lives. What they usually mean is that they wish they had more time.

Time to slow down.

Time to notice.

Time to make something simply because it brings them joy.

I don’t believe creativity belongs only to artists. I think it’s something we’re all born with. Sometimes it just gets buried beneath busy schedules, responsibilities and the feeling that creating needs to be productive to be worthwhile.

Perhaps creativity begins much earlier than we think.

Perhaps it begins with noticing the winter light on a eucalyptus tree, the colours hiding in the skin of a pear, or the quiet satisfaction of sitting with a cup of tea before the day begins.

The painting comes later.

Seeing comes first.

As I continue painting the quiet beauty of Australia, I hope my work encourages others to pause every now and then and look a little more closely. There is so much beauty woven into ordinary days, waiting patiently for someone to notice it.

Thank you for spending a little time with me here.

Warmly,

Hayley

View out my studio window

What Painting Pears Can Teach Us About Really Seeing

Yesterday I swapped my quiet Swan Valley studio for the lively energy of a Year 9 specialist art classroom.

Instead of painting gum blossoms and banksias, we spent the day studying something far more ordinary: pears.

Or perhaps they aren’t ordinary at all.

One of my favourite moments as a teacher is watching people realise that what they think they see and what is actually there are often two completely different things.

A pear isn’t simply green.

Or brown.

Or yellow.

Look a little longer and you’ll discover cool blues hiding in the shadows, warm reds bouncing up from the tabletop, soft violets where the light gently disappears, and tiny shifts in colour that suddenly make a painting come alive.

To help the students experience this for themselves, we worked with a deliberately limited palette.

Rather than reaching for ready-made greens and browns, we mixed almost every colour from just six paints:

• Cadmium Yellow Light

• Brilliant Alizarin

• Ultramarine Blue

• Burnt Umber

• Payne’s Grey

• Titanium White

It can feel a little challenging at first, but that’s exactly the point.

When the colours aren’t already waiting in a tube, you begin looking more carefully. You slow down. You compare one colour with another. You notice subtle temperature shifts and reflected light that would otherwise be missed.

Painting becomes less about copying and more about observing.

By the end of the day, every student’s pears looked different.

Some were vibrant and fresh, others soft and atmospheric, but each painting reflected the student’s own way of seeing.

That’s one of the things I love most about teaching.

Everyone begins with the same subject, yet no two paintings are ever alike.

As artists, we spend a lifetime learning to notice.

To notice the colours hidden in shadows.

To notice light.

To notice shape.

To notice beauty in things we might otherwise overlook.

Perhaps that’s why I still love painting botanicals after all these years. A gum blossom, a banksia or a simple pear always has something new to reveal if we’re willing to slow down and really look.

And maybe that’s the lesson that extends far beyond painting.

The more carefully we observe the world around us, the richer it becomes.

If you’d like to experience this way of painting for yourself, I’d love to welcome you to one of my workshops.

Whether we’re painting Australian native flowers over a country weekend at Greenhills Art Centre or exploring still life together in Radiant Harvest, my goal is always the same: to help you slow down, trust your eyes, and discover the joy of truly seeing.

Because creativity isn’t about painting the perfect pear.

It’s about learning to notice the extraordinary beauty that’s been there all along.

Being Seen: What Sitting for a Figure Painting Group Taught Me

A few months after my breast cancer diagnosis, I had the opportunity to pose for a figure painting group.

If you’d asked me a year ago whether I would ever sit topless in a room full of artists while they painted me, I would have laughed.

Yet there I was.

Not because I felt particularly confident.

Not because I loved every change my body had been through.

But because life has a way of asking us to step into places we never expected.

As the artists worked, conversations unfolded around the room. We spoke about breast cancer, surgery, healing and the complicated relationship many women have with their bodies.

We talked about scars.

We talked about ageing.

We talked about how our bodies carry the stories of our lives.

For months, my body had been viewed through a medical lens. Mammograms, ultrasounds, biopsies, consultations, surgery and treatment plans. My breasts had become something to measure, examine and discuss.

This felt different.

For the first time in a long while, I was being seen not as a patient, but as a person.

Not as a diagnosis, but as a woman.

An artist’s model.

A storyteller.

A body worthy of observation, exactly as it was.

Sitting there, I realised something unexpected.

The things I was most self-conscious about were not what the artists saw.

They weren’t looking for perfection.

They were looking for light, shape, colour, form and humanity.

They were searching for what makes us beautifully human.

The experience reminded me of something I try to bring into my own paintings.

When I paint a flower, I am not searching for perfection. Often it’s the bent petal, the weathered leaf or the unexpected shadow that captures my attention.

The imperfections tell the story.

Perhaps the same is true for us.

Breast cancer has changed my body.

There are scars now.

There are reminders of what happened.

There are days when I still feel frustrated by the changes.

But there is also gratitude.

Gratitude for healing.

Gratitude for strength.

Gratitude for a body that continues to carry me through this season.

As I sat for the artists that day, I wasn’t thinking about being brave.

I was simply showing up as I am.

And perhaps there is something beautiful in that.

Allowing ourselves to be seen.

Not despite our scars.

But with them.

Because they are part of our story.

And every story deserves to be told.

— Hayley xxx

A Vibrant Start to “Perfectly Still”

Opening nights are always a whirlwind.

Months of preparation suddenly come together in a few short hours as the doors open, conversations begin, and artwork finally finds its audience.

Perfectly Still was no exception.

Held in Fremantle’s beautiful Moore’s Building, the exhibition brought together nine Western Australian women artists, each exploring still life and botanical subjects through their own unique lens. While our styles varied, we shared a love of slowing down and paying attention to the beauty found in everyday objects, flowers, fruit, vessels, and the quiet moments that often pass unnoticed.

For me, the exhibition represented more than simply showing new work.

It was an opportunity to celebrate the extraordinary beauty of the natural world through paintings inspired by Australian flora. Many of the pieces featured flowers and seedpods collected during walks through Kings Park and my local surroundings—subjects that continue to inspire my practice today.

One of the greatest joys of exhibiting is seeing how different people connect with different artworks. A painting that I may have overlooked during the creation process often becomes someone’s favourite, while another viewer may be drawn to a tiny detail that reminds them of a personal memory.

Those conversations are one of the reasons I love sharing my work.

Me being me with my heart and soul on the walls behind me.

WHY I PAINT FLOWERS

People often ask why I paint flowers. The answer has changed over the years.

When I first began painting Australian flora, I was drawn to the colours, shapes and textures. The intricate details of a banksia cone, the delicate fringe of a gum blossom, the sculptural beauty of a seed pod. As an artist, I found endless inspiration in the extraordinary plants that grow around us. But over time, I realised I wasn’t really painting flowers. I was painting wonder.

Many of the plants I paint are ordinary sights in Western Australia. We pass them on walks, see them growing beside roads, or overlook them completely. Yet when you stop and truly look, they reveal remarkable beauty.

A gum blossom becomes a burst of fireworks. A banksia becomes a study in resilience. A seed pod becomes a sculpture.Painting allows me to slow down and spend time with these small moments that might otherwise be missed.

My journey as an artist has taught me that beauty isn’t reserved for grand landscapes or extraordinary events. Often it is found in the quiet details of everyday life. A single flower. A fallen leaf. The light catching the edge of a petal. The older I get, the more important this feels. Life moves quickly. We rush from one responsibility to the next, often forgetting to notice what is right in front of us. Painting gives me permission to pause, and my hope is that my artwork invites others to pause too.

Each painting begins with observation, but it ends with connection. A collector may see a banksia and remember a childhood holiday. Someone else may be reminded of a loved one’s garden. Another may simply feel a sense of calm. Those connections are what matter most to me. While my paintings feature flowers, leaves and seed pods, they are really about paying attention to the world around us and finding joy in the ordinary.

Because sometimes the most beautiful things are the ones we almost walked past.seed pod becomes a sculpture. Painting allows me to slow down and spend time with these small moments that might otherwise be missed.

My journey as an artist has taught me that beauty isn’t reserved for grand landscapes or extraordinary events. Often it is found in the quiet details of everyday life. A single flower. A fallen leaf. The light catching the edge of a petal. The older I get, the more important this feels.

Life moves quickly. We rush from one responsibility to the next, often forgetting to notice what is right in front of us. Painting gives me permission to pause, and my hope is that my artwork invites others to pause too.

Each painting begins with observation, but it ends with connection. A collector may see a banksia and remember a childhood holiday. Someone else may be reminded of a loved one’s garden. Another may simply feel a sense of calm. Those connections are what matter most to me.

While my paintings feature flowers, leaves and seed pods, they are really about paying attention to the world around us and finding joy in the ordinary.

Because sometimes the most beautiful things are the ones we almost walked past.

WHY I KEEP RETURNING TO SMALL PAINTINGS

When people think of an artist’s success, they often imagine large canvases hanging in galleries, bold statement pieces that command attention the moment you walk into a room.

Yet some of the most meaningful paintings I have created would fit comfortably in the palm of your hand.

What began as a simple challenge to paint more regularly gradually became something else entirely. One small painting led to another, and before I knew it, tiny pears, lemons, blossoms and seed pods were finding their way into homes all over Australia.

At first I thought I was simply creating affordable artworks.

What I didn’t realise was that these little paintings would teach me as much as they taught the people who collected them.

Painting small requires a different kind of attention. There is nowhere to hide. Every brushstroke matters. Every decision feels important. The process asks me to slow down and truly look at what is in front of me.

Perhaps that is why I keep returning to them.

They remind me that beauty rarely demands attention. More often it waits quietly, tucked inside ordinary moments, a fallen blossom, a perfectly imperfect pear, a mushroom discovered on a morning walk.

The longer I paint, the more I believe that art isn’t really about creating something grand. It’s about noticing. And sometimes the smallest paintings are the ones that help us notice the most.

Bringing a New Collection to Life

There comes a moment with every collection when I realise it’s time to let it go.

For weeks—sometimes months—I’ve lived with these paintings. They’ve leaned against the studio walls, travelled between easels, and quietly kept me company as each layer of paint found its place. Slowly, almost without noticing, they begin to feel like old friends.

Then comes the final stage.

Each painting is carefully framed in hand-finished solid Tasmanian Oak, waxed and polished until the timber glows with a warm honey finish. It’s always one of my favourite moments. The frame doesn’t simply surround the artwork; it completes it, giving the painting a quiet sense of presence and permanence.

Only then does the collection feel ready to leave the studio.

Preparing a body of work is an emotional experience. There’s excitement, relief, and usually a little nervousness too. Every painting carries with it countless small decisions, moments of doubt, discoveries, and quiet victories that are invisible once it’s hanging on a wall.

I often wonder what someone else will notice first. Will they be drawn to the colour? The texture? The way the light catches a eucalyptus leaf or the intricate architecture of a banksia? Or perhaps they’ll simply feel something they can’t quite explain.

That’s one of the things I love most about sharing new work. Once a painting leaves my studio, its story continues in someone else’s home.

Whether my paintings are exhibited in galleries, shared through my website, or discovered during an open studio or workshop, I never take for granted the privilege of sharing them. Every new collection is an invitation to slow down for a moment and notice the extraordinary beauty woven through Australia’s native flora.

Thank you for following along, encouraging my work, and sharing this creative journey with me. Knowing these paintings are seen and appreciated is a gift I never stop being grateful for.

If you’d like to see what I’m currently working on, you can explore my latest original paintings in the gallery or browse the available collection here on my website.

Swan open Open studios 2022

We had our first weekend of Swan Open Studios 2022 over the weekend. This event is in its infancy and as an artist led initiative we’re hoping it will grow from strength to strength over the coming years.

We live and work in the beautiful Swan Valley area which was established over 180 years ago.

It’s a hugely diverse area with many attractions including wineries, restaurants, beautiful scenery, heritage listings and of course a rich array of arts and culture.

Over 26 artists have thrown open their doors to invite the public in for a behind the scenes look into the fascinating life and practice of a variety of mediums. But I g art from the studio door is a unique and enriching experience.

Every home deserves to have beautiful art gracing its walls.

Paint with me in my STUDIO

It’s been such a beautiful experience enjoying smaller, more meaningful connections with you beautiful creatives in my studio space. It is a happy space for me and I’m discovering that others are enjoying it as much as I do.

This is just a little feedback I’ve received from the last few workshops in my studio.

“I just wanted to say thank you so much for having us in your studio on Friday and for your generous hospitality. It was a thoroughly enjoyable day and so great to pick up a paintbrush after a very long time! With kindest regards ~ E”

“Special thanks for all of your warmth and help during our art class on a Friday.
This was something I’ve never done before yet always wanted to, and how lucky we were that we got such a beautiful soul as yourself to be with. Thank you. ~ F”

“Thank you for the most amazing day & welcoming us into your home. It's such a private and beautiful space & your calming nature is contagious. We loved it, and you know I love you, your painting & tutelage.. can't wait til next time. ~ JM”

“Thanks to you I think I am slowly improving. I hope you do make your home workshops a regular thing, such an nice experience. I will definitely book again. ~ T”

What I listen to in my studio 🎶

The beautiful creatives that attend my workshops always comment on the choice of music being a pleasure. It’s never anything I wouldn’t listen to on a daily basis in my own space.
Being a child of the 80’s, it is a decade of music that always shows up in my paint sessions. I do have diverse taste in music and will often choose music to suit my mood or encourage a certain amount of productivity for a particular day.

I have chosen to share a favourite playlist created on Spotify that brings a smile to my face very single time. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. Does music influence your mood? Perhaps you prefer to paint to audio books or podcasts instead? I’d love to hear if you have any favourites?

The First Eucalyptus

Some paintings quietly change the direction of your work without you realising it.

This was the first eucalyptus I ever painted.

At the time, I wasn’t thinking about building a body of work around Australian native flora. I simply couldn’t stop looking at those soft blue-grey leaves and the brilliant red gum blossom. There was something about the contrast that felt unmistakably Australian, yet wonderfully elegant.

Looking back now, I can see this painting was the beginning of a long conversation with eucalyptus.

Since then, those silvery leaves have appeared again and again on my easel. They’ve become one of the subjects I return to most often, not because they’re dramatic, but because they’re endlessly subtle. Every leaf catches the light differently. Every branch seems to have its own rhythm.

What surprised me most was what happened after I finished the painting.

It was licensed by John Sands, allowing it to find its way into homes around Australia in a completely different form. It also became one of the paintings I returned to in my workshops, sharing the process with hundreds of students over the years. Watching others discover that eucalyptus isn’t simply “green” has been just as rewarding as painting it myself.

When I compare this painting with the eucalyptus works I’m creating today, I can see how much my painting has evolved. My brushwork has softened. My understanding of light has deepened. I notice far more than I did back then.

But one thing hasn’t changed.

I’m still captivated by eucalyptus.

I still pause when I see the powdery blue leaves catching the afternoon light. I still find myself bringing home branches to place on the studio table. And I still believe there is extraordinary beauty hidden in these everyday Australian plants we so often walk past without really seeing.

Perhaps that’s what this painting gave me more than anything else.

It taught me to slow down and look.

And I’ve been looking ever since.

I choose happy!

I was asked yesterday, if I could choose one message to send through my business, what would it be?

Simple.

I CHOOSE HAPPY!!!

It really didn’t take much thought at all. You see, I started my creative journey to rediscover me.

Life is always messy and full of complications. If you wait for the perfect moment, life will just pass you by.

Seven years ago, I found myself question my value in life. I had given my all to raising my beautiful children. We had moved half way across the world and my body was broken. I had just been through back surgery. I was stuck at home. My body was healing, but my soul was yearning for more. I had lost my identity. You see, I loved being a mother and a wife and took my vocation very seriously. But, with the unexpected extra time on my hands while being physically forced to slow down, I started to question where I had vanished to?
This was a wake up call to my soul. In order to give of myself to my family and others, I needed to find something that would fill my cup. 
I picked up a brush and some acrylic paint and my world was transformed!

In that moment, I chose HAPPY!

To share in my journey daily, follow me on Instagram

Hayley Krüger Artist Catalogue April 2019

Angel’s wings 76cm (W) x 101cm (H) $1,100

Another beautiful peony from France. The light kissing the petals gives them a dreamy feel, almost like Angels dancing in the light.

Crimson Beauty 76cm (W) x 76cm (H) $900

There are so many flowering Eucalyptus species when you start to take notice. They are all so beautiful, like little explosions of colour nestled in the green grey foliage of the incredible trees they grow on.

Raw Beauty 76cm (W) x 76cm (H) $900

Many of my reference photos are taken while wandering the beautiful gardens of Kings Park Botanic Gardens. These architecturally rugged forms are the nuts from the macrocarpa. They are raw and beautiful just like the country they grow in.

Intrinsic Beauty 50.8cm (W) x 50.8cm (H) $500

I live in Western Australia. We are blessed with an abundance of beautiful natural bushland and home to the magnificent Kings park Botanic Gardens. The rose Mallee is endemic to our region and produces these amazing floral gifts for us all wrapped up in silver grey foliage.

Dancing in the sunshine 90cm (W) x 61cm (H) $960

Spring is my favourite season of the year. The world bursts into a cacophany of colour. I love watching poppies explode from their furry little pods into their bright cheerful blooms. They’re happiness dancing in the gentle breeze while the sun kisses their delicate folds.

Stop and smell the roses 50.8cm (W) x 50.8cm (H) $450

It is good for the soul to occasionally slow down. There is beauty all around us if we just stop

to smell the roses. My eyes have opened to a feast of colour and beauty around me while

looking for inspiration for my larger then life macro interpretation of the flora in nature's backyard.

Delirium 76cm (W) x 76cm (H) $800

I just love dahlias. They make me deliriously happy. “Be deliriously happy or at least leave yourself open to be” ~ Bill Parish (Anthony Hopkins) in meet Joe Black.

Entrancing 76cm (W) x 76cm (H) $800

This magical mauve rose was photographed on a family camping trip down South in WA. There is beauty wherever you go.

Transcendence 76cm (W) x 76cm (H) $800

I love the ethereal feel of the afternoon sun dancing on the petals of this apricot rose. It has a dreamy quality, like satin sheets glowing in candlelight.

Tropical Blush 91cm (W) x 61cm (H) $700

Professional quality acrylic paint 100% cotton canvas. Varnished, sides painted, ready to hang, unframed. Commissions welcome.

Pink Splash 91cm (W) x 61cm (H) $700

I live in sunny Perth, WA. Our weather is perfect for so many incredible and diverse blooms. Every garden holds a treasure. This reference was taken on a family trip out and about in our own neighbourhood. “Not all who wander are lost.” ~ JRR Tolkien

Scent of Summer 91cm (W) x 61cm (H) $700

“Seek to be whole, not perfect” ~ Oprah Winfrey

Frangipanis always make me feel like I’m on holiday. They bring back fond memories of soaking up the sun with my toes squeaking on the sand of a tropical paradise.

More than a pear 61cm (W) x 50.8cm (H) $500

I took a series of reference photos for a commission work in 2018. I loved how the light danced off the pears so much, I decided to do a series of paintings from than one perfect moment captured in time.

Brian’s Beauties 50.8cm (W) x 61cm (H) $500

These tangerines are grown with love by Brian in the Swan Valley. They were as juicy and delicious as they look.

Scarlett Jewels 61cm (W) x 61cm (H) $450

This image reminds of our Thailand holiday. We were walking along Bangla Road in Patong.

There were scores of people all enjoying the tropical heat and local sites. We can across this vibrant vendor with rows of gorgeous jewel-like pomegranates almost the size of my little girls head, bursting with tasty little pockets of flavour.

“Pomegranates are like little explosions of awesome in your mouth” ~ Tahereh Mafi

Professional quality acrylic paint on gallery wrapped 100% cotton canvas. Varnished, sides painted, ready to hang, unframed. Commissions welcome.

e:jhkruger@bigpond.com ig:@hayleykrugerartist fb:@hayleykrugerartist

Credit card transactions via square are welcome.

Perth Art Upmarket ~ 6 April 2019

Perth Art Upmarket ~ UWA Winthrop Hall

Saturday April 6th 10-4pm

Find out more about Perth Art Upmarket

Free Entry - Free Parking

A selection of original artworks as well as some limited edition fine art prints will be available on the day to brighten your home.

Did you know that a 20% Deposit could secure your very own commission artwork?

10 Australiana Artists →

10 of the Best Emerging Australiana Artists

Have you heard? Australiana is cool again. After all, who isn’t inspired by this sun-drenched country, with its breathtaking landscapes, unique flora & fauna and laidback beach culture? Once considered kitsch, Australiana is actually one of our most sought after artwork categories.

The resurgence of Australiana has seen icons that were brash and daggy re-emerge as more subtle and self-aware. The 10 artists below either embrace the fun, quirky and nostalgic side of Australia or celebrate our incredible landscapes, culture and wildlife.

Hayley Kruger: Floral Australiana

Hayley Kruger is another artist who chose to make Australia her home when relocating from overseas. She grew up in South Africa, but has since settled on Australia’s West Coast. Her acrylic work explores the effect of light on botanical forms to showcase their variety of shapes.

“I take my cues from the local Australia flora as well as the traditional flowers that I’ve been drawn to my entire life. I am exploring the mesmerizing strength and beauty in the architectural form of the native plants. The bold colours and shapes inspire me to thrive in this vast and glorious land.”

Emergence by Hayley Kruger

https://www.bluethumb.com.au/blog/artists/10-australiana-artists/

Current work available for sale

Welcome to my online studio and gallery where you can view my current available work at your leisure.

I enjoy creating new work but I love it when my creations find their forever homes. My wish is that my adventures in the studio become much treasured artwork bringing joy to your home.

All works are painted lovingly with professional artist quality acrylics on 100% gallery canvas. They are sealed with a quality varnish to protect the work.

If you have any questions or would love to give any of my work a new home, I would love to hear from you. I accept credit card payments through square, and electronic transfers.

FREE postage Australiawide.

jhkruger@bigpond.com

 https://m.facebook.com/hayleykrugerartist/

https://www.instagram.com/hayleykrugerartist/

Scarlett Jewels

61cm (W) x 61cm (H) x 2.5cm (D)

$500

This image reminds of our Thailand holiday. We were walking along Bangla Road in Patong. There were scores of people all enjoying the tropical heat and local sites. We can across this vibrant vendor with rows of gorgeous jewel-like pomegranates almost the size of my little girls head, bursting with tasty little pockets of flavour.

“Pomegranates are like little explosions of awesome in your mouth” ~ Tahereh Mafi

Into the light

Mixed Media

61cm (W) x 61cm (H) x 2.5cm (D)

$450

In my practise I experiment and push my boundaries all the time.

I keep an art journal for my own enrichment and this is the fruit of applying those techniques on to canvas.

“To shine your brightest light is to be who you truly are.” ~ Roy T. Bennett

Splendour https://www.bluethumb.com.au/hayley-kruger-artist

61cm (W) x 61cm (H) x 3.5cm (D)

SOLD

“Stung by the splendour of a sudden thought.” Robert Browning
This rose was taken at Patsy Durack's garden in the Perth Hills, Western Australia.

Delirium

76cm (W) x 76cm (H) x 2.5cm (D)

$830

I just love dahlias. They make me deliriously happy.

"Be deliriously happy or at least leave yourself open to be." ~ Bill Parish (Anthony Hopkins) in Meet Joe Black.

Sublime

61cm (W) x 46cm (H) x 3cm (D)

$300

 "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." ~ William Shakespeare.

The smell of a rose invokes feelings of romance, love and abundance in life.

Eminence https://www.bluethumb.com.au/hayley-kruger-artist

101cm (W) x 76cm (H) x 3.5cm (D)

$625

I loved painting this gorgeous peony. It was at a workshop in an old classroom at a stunning art centre in WA. The light was streaming in the windows and there was a beautiful old tree bringing much positive energy to the experience. 

I never knew a man come to greatness or eminence who lay in bed in the morning.” ~ Jonathan Swift

Transcendence II

76cm (W) x 76cm (H) x 2.5cm (D)

$830

I love the magic that the peony flower promises. Peonies represent riches and honor. With their lush blooms, peonies embody romance and prosperity and are regarded as an omen of good fortune and a happy marriage.

Transcendence

76cm (W) x 76cm (H) x 2.5cm (D)

$830

I love the ethereal feel of the afternoon sun dancing on the petals of this apricot rose. It has a dreamy quality, like satin sheets glowing in candlelight.

Entrancing

76cm (W) x 76cm (H) x 2.5cm (D)

$830

This magical mauve rose was photographed on a family camping trip down South in WA. There is beauty wherever you go. 

Delightful

61cm (W) x 61cm (H) x 3.5cm (D)

$325

"It's delightful, it's delicious, its de-lovely." ~ Cole Porter.

This picture was taken in the Perth Jolls on a glorious spring day.

Intoxicating

100cm (W) x 76cm (H) x 2.5cm (D)

$830

Magnolias are associated with nobility, perseverance, dignity and a love of nature. The magnolia tree is a symbol of magnificence because of its impressive height and enormous flowers. Magnolias given as a present from a man to a women means, “You are worthy of a beautiful magnolia.” A magnolia symbolizes femininity.

Spring blossom

76cm (W) x 30cm (H) x 1.5cm (D)

$350

Spring is my favourite time in the Swan Valley, Western Australia.

Divine

91cm (W) x 76cm (H) x 2.5cm (D)

$830

The fabulous Julia rose boasts an array of beautiful hues from peach and apricot to a gorgeous rich coffee colour depending on where it is growing and the light it is captured in.

“Beauty is a radiance that originates from within and comes from inner security and strong character.” ~Jane Seymour

Quinces https://www.bluethumb.com.au/hayley-kruger-artist

51cm (W) x 41cm (H) x 2cm (D)

SOLD

Fresh quinces from the garden.

“And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,they danced by the light of the moon.” ~ Edward Lear ( The owl and the pussycat)

Still life Pears

101cm (W) x 76cm (H) x 3.5cm (D)

$830

Pears provide for dramatic still life work. I love their voluptuous shapes and they are pretty delicious afterwards with cheese and biscuits.

Earthly Pleasures https://www.bluethumb.com.au/hayley-kruger-artist

76cm (W) x 76cm (H) x 2.5cm (D)

SOLD

 “The best way to pay for a lovely moment is to enjoy it.” Richard Bach

I love figs. I have tasted my first fresh figs possibly no more than five years ago. They were all the rage on the current season of Masterchef. Only then did I discover that they grew all around me in the gorgeous Swan Valley, Western Australia. These came home with me from a local Winery one sunny afternoon. After being photographed, they made their way on to our cheese platter for dinner. Nom, nom, nom...

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jhkruger@bigpond.com

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