There’s something about the start of a new year that invites perspective. Not just on what’s coming next, but on how far you’ve already travelled. As I begin preparing my entry for Portrait Artist of the Year 2026, I’ve found myself thinking about time — not in deadlines or schedules, but in years of work quietly stacking up behind me.

One small rule change has made that particularly clear.

Five Years Instead of One

This year, the eligibility window for Portrait Artist of the Year has expanded. Instead of only being able to submit work from the past twelve months, artists can now enter pieces made within the last five years.

On paper, that’s just an administrative change. In practice, it feels strangely affirming.

For the first time, I’m not scrambling to find something recent enough. I’m looking back across multiple years of work, comparing paintings made at very different points in my practice. That alone feels like a marker of progress — proof that this isn’t just a phase, but something I’ve been steadily building.

Seeing Growth in Reverse

Laying work out chronologically is a revealing exercise. Earlier pieces carry a certain urgency and rawness. Newer ones show more restraint, more patience, and a clearer sense of what I’m trying to say. The difference isn’t dramatic, but it’s unmistakable.

What’s surprising is that I don’t feel embarrassed by the older work. I feel grateful for it. Without those paintings, the newer ones wouldn’t exist. The five-year window doesn’t just offer more choice — it tells a story.

A Quiet Confidence

Preparing this submission feels different from previous years. Not easier, necessarily, but steadier. There’s less panic, less urgency to prove something. Instead, there’s a sense of continuity — of work accumulating through time, each painting informing the next.

That’s a comforting way to begin a new year.

Looking Ahead

As 2026 begins, I’m entering Portrait Artist of the Year with a broader perspective — not just on the rules, but on my own practice. I’m no longer measuring myself in months. I’m measuring myself in years of showing up, making work, and learning what painting can hold.

Whatever happens with the submission, that alone feels like progress worth recognising.

.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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#53: What I Was and What I’ve Become

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#51: A Christmas Thank You — and Looking Ahead