#33: The One I Didn’t See — and Someone Else Did

Holmfirth Artweek is still in full swing, and while I’ve had to step away from the show this year, my paintings are there — standing on their own, without me nearby to hover or explain. It’s a strange feeling, knowing they’re hanging on walls I haven’t seen, catching the eyes of people I’ll likely never meet.

But this week, something unexpected happened.
A stranger messaged me on Instagram to say they’d seen one of the paintings in person — a piece called All That Glitters is Gold — and really liked it.

And honestly, that meant more than I can say.

The Painting I Let Go Of

All That Glitters is Gold was the last painting I finished for the show. It felt like a turning point — ambitious, a bit surreal, visually bold. It shows a woman entirely covered in gold paint, surrounded by golden objects falling from the sky. I used a perspective trick to blur the foreground and background slightly, so the figure comes into focus as the viewer steps back, giving the whole thing a dreamlike, cinematic quality.

To me, it was about the tension between beauty and excess. About attention, and what we value. But also — if I’m honest — it was about technique. It was a risk, playing with focus like that. And I didn’t know if it would land.

The One I Didn’t Get to See

Because I wasn’t able to attend the show in person, All That Glitters is Gold is out there on a wall I haven’t stood in front of. I didn’t see it framed by the exhibition lights. I didn’t get to notice how people approached it, or whether they paused.

And that’s why that message — just a few kind words from someone I’ve never met — hit differently.

There’s something powerful about your work reaching someone else completely on its own terms. No explanation. No studio mess. Just the painting and a pair of eyes, sharing a moment I wasn’t part of… but also completely was.

What Makes It Worth It

Moments like that remind me why I do this. Not for likes or metrics or applause, but for quiet connections like this — someone standing in front of something I made, feeling something real enough to reach out.

That’s the kind of validation I didn’t know I needed. Not flashy, not overwhelming. Just honest. And that honesty makes me want to keep pushing, keep risking, keep painting the things that feel true — even when I don’t know if anyone will see them the way I do.

The Work Goes On Without You

I think that’s one of the strangest and most beautiful things about being an artist: you can’t always be there, but the work still speaks. Sometimes louder, sometimes softer. But if you’re lucky, someone listens. And sometimes, they even let you know.

All That Glitters is Gold is still on the wall in Holmfirth. I won’t get to stand in front of it this time, but someone else will. And that’s enough.

.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.