#30: After the Rush: Letting Go and Looking Back

The paintings are finished. They’ve been wrapped, labelled, and sent off, ready for hand-in day at Holmfirth Artweek this weekend. The studio is quiet now — the brushes are clean, the palette’s been cleared, and for the first time in weeks, I’m allowing myself a proper pause.

It’s always a strange feeling, this moment after finishing a body of work — especially one that’s asked a lot of me.

The Final Push

The lead-up was intense. Between varnishing, experimenting with finishes, and preparing the work to be shown together, the studio became a bit of a whirlwind — filled with scraps of paper, spattered rags, last-minute decisions, and a steady undercurrent of adrenaline.

By the end, I wasn’t overthinking. I couldn’t. I just had to trust the process, trust the work, and commit. The last brushstrokes weren’t planned — they were instinctual. And honestly, that’s when the most honest marks often appear.

That Last Layer

Varnishing was the final act. It might seem like a technicality, but for me, it’s the last layer of paint — a closing gesture. I’ve been experimenting with matt and gloss finishes, and in this collection, I’ve used both. Some parts of the paintings catch the light and shimmer. Others absorb it quietly.

That contrast has become part of the work itself. If you see the pieces in person at Holmfirth Artweek — or catch glimpses online — you’ll notice how those surface decisions shift the tone and texture of each piece. They’re subtle, but deliberate.

Stepping Back

Now that the work is out of the studio and the exhibition is just around the corner, I’m giving myself a bit of a breather. A chance to rest, reflect, and reset. That break — even if it’s just a shift in pace — is something I’ve come to value just as much as the painting itself.

There’s a strange quiet that follows the deadline. The pressure lifts, but it leaves behind a kind of stillness — space to process what the work asked of me, and what it gave back.

Pride, and Letting Go

This body of work was a challenge. It asked me to be bolder, more experimental, and to trust myself when I wasn’t sure. I feel proud — not just of how the paintings turned out, but of how I showed up through the making of them. That’s not something I always say out loud, but I’m learning to.

Now that the work is on its way to Holmfirth, I have to let it stand on its own. I won’t be there when it’s hung. I won’t be nearby to explain or soften it. The paintings will just be there — as they are — and I’m okay with that. It’s what they’re meant to do.

Looking Forward

I’ll be sharing updates online in the lead-up to Holmfirth Artweek, and I hope the work speaks for itself. I hope it finds someone who sees something in it I didn’t expect.

For now, I’m taking a moment to breathe — letting the rush settle, letting the silence speak, and staying open to whatever comes next.


.M.

Be real.

Make art.


If you’d like to learn more about my creative process or see my latest work, feel free to reach out or check out the rest of my website.

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#31: The Waiting Room: After the Hand-In, Before the Show

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#29: Wrapped, Ready, and Real: Varnishing and Preparing for Holmfirth Artweek