Do you find yourself spending more time on your computer than in the real world, sometimes? Do you suddenly realise that weeks have gone by, and you've done nothing creative with your hands, like cooking for fun, or gardening? When was the last time you had to properly scrub your hands clean after a project that brought you joy? 

This is far from the first time I’ve been told that what I do doesn’t really count. People hear “artist” and immediately jump to “struggling.” But Art is a real job. A beautiful one. One that shapes the world, challenges us to be better, invites us to feel and to dream, and brings us together as communities. It’s not just pretty pictures on walls. It's magic.

Don't you love how art brings people together in such unexpected ways? Just over a week ago, I found myself standing on a red carpet beneath the Tanzanian flag and shaking hands with the Tanzanian High Commissioner. I couldn't believe it. 

I called this painting 'Brothers,' but it's really about being together in tough times more than about blood or family. It's all about community. I suppose this painting is my way of saying: we’re not meant to do everything alone.

I've been thinking a lot about where my paintings go. It's strange, putting so much of myself into each artwork and then sending them out into the world, perhaps to never see again. It feels sort of like writing a love letter and then mailing it to someone you just met.

If a painting is not quite right, I know. It's a feeling, like when the energy in a room is slightly off, or when someone is upset with you but hasn't said anything. 

When I first moved to London during lockdown, I had a daily ritual: a takeaway coffee from Café Phillies, followed by a walk through the park.

I once gave one of my favourite art students advice about a painting, and they said, “Thank you, Katherine, and I hear you, but that’s not what I’m going to do. I’m going to do it this way,” and I thought—yes. That’s perfect.

Lately, I’ve been soaking up the sunshine, and it’s found its way onto my canvas. This new piece is bold yet delicate, vibrant and warm—like sunlight itself.

Welcome to the Thursday Scrape. Every week, I'll give you a short, honest look into my life, my painting process, and the challenges of being an artist. And I’d love to hear from you—what are you curious about?

I love London, but since I moved out of the city, I’ve spent a lot of time in the woods. The sound of the birds, the trees swaying in the wind, the crunch of leaves on the ground, watching Whisky bound ahead with her usual uncontainable joy. The world slows down here, and I feel at peace. I want to bring this feeling into my art. 

The Vanishing Worlds exhibition felt like a gathering of kindred spirits. It reminded me of why I paint—why I pour my passion onto the canvas. It’s not just about the art itself; it’s about giving a voice to the wildlife that can’t speak for itself.

I just loved the idea of taking shoes — one of the most common and disposed-of items of clothing — and making them into a form of wearable art that celebrates the beauty of nature. I think it is a lovely way to invite people to become a part of a movement that supports the protection of our planet.

After a trip to Tanzania, I always come back feeling inspired. I am ready to create, to combine the beauty of Tanzania with the beauty of England, to mix my two homes and hearts together… to make a new identity for myself.

I had the immense privilege of working with Space for Giants last year and visiting their team at the Loisaba Conservancy in Kenya.