I left Adelaide telling friends I was giving up my Glasgow studio. It was easier than explaining why I feel compelled to pursue a life in art. I have grown tired of justifying the instinct to create—of explaining something that, for me, is no longer a choice. When I am not creating, I feel a profound sense of absence.
My life has been full. I am a devoted mother and now a grandmother. I have contributed deeply to my family and community, embracing expected roles and fulfilling them with care and commitment. I followed a path shaped by stability and tradition, trusting it would lead to contentment. Yet, despite this, something essential remained unresolved.
For a long time, I lived within a structure I did not question. I measured success through security, through responsibility, through the expectations of others. But I came to understand that fulfilment cannot be outsourced. The realisation that I am responsible for my own happiness marked a shift I could not ignore.
Art became the turning point. What began as an act of support for my kids became a process that transformed me. Through making, I found clarity, agency, and a deeper connection to self. It revealed a truth that now defines my practice: I create because I must.
The title I Am Damned If I Do and Damned If I Don’t reflect the tension I navigate—between expectation and self-determination, between approval and authenticity. To pursue this path invites judgment; to abandon it guarantees dissatisfaction. In that space, I choose to continue.
My work sits within this contradiction. It is about breaking from prescribed roles and stepping into uncertainty. It is about risk, persistence, and the willingness to fail in pursuit of something more honest. Through my practice, I am not only making art—I am reclaiming my voice, my time, and my sense of purpose.
