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.
