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As some of you may know, January 1 is my "reflection day". I like taking a moment to look back before diving into the new year. It’s a chance to ask myself "what actually happened?" And last year, something gently changed.

Almost five years ago, I stopped working, and suddenly, I found myself with a lot of free time. At first, it felt like a luxury, then a bit confusing. Eventually, I realized I needed something to fill that time.

That’s when volunteering stepped in!

I started at a local community center teaching watercolor painting. This mostly involves paint, water, encouragement, and reminding everyone (including myself) that there is no such thing as “doing it wrong.”

I also spend time at a nearby art gallery and an art shop, where I welcome art lovers, chat about creativity, and spend time surrounded by beautiful things — which is, honestly, a very pleasant way to spend a day.

And last year, I added a new adventure: volunteering at the McLaren Vale Visitors Centre. This role has been so fun! I get to meet people, answer their questions, share local tips, and watch them fall in love with the region right before my eyes.

What I didn’t expect was how good all of this would make me feel.

It gives my weeks a nice rhythm without pressure—there are no deadlines or performance reviews. Just the simple joy of connecting with others.

I keep being amazed by how deeply volunteering is woven into life in Australia. People volunteer everywhere —for example community centers, galleries, libraries, op shops, sports clubs, festivals, wildlife rescue, emergency services. Much of it happens quietly, without fanfare. But it’s what makes communities feel warm, connected, and human. I feel lucky to be part of that culture, even in a small way.

So as this new year begins, I’m not making grand resolutions or trying to reinvent myself. I’m simply sticking to what I know works: volunteering, creating, and connecting. Giving back when you can is surprisingly rewarding—not in a flashy way, but in that steady, cozy feeling that you’re part of something bigger.

A colleague recently showed me a saying that made me laugh and nod at the same time: "volunteers are not worthless — they are priceless." ." It’s true!

Not everyone has the time — but when you do, sharing it can be quietly priceless.

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There is a quote I have always loved: “Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.” It’s usually attributed to Theodore Roosevelt, but it feels more like what my mother would say while turning leftover vegetables into a surprisingly good soup.

This little motto pretty much sums up how I live and create. I have always enjoyed making things from whatever happens to be around — food, clothes, art, gifts. There’s something deeply satisfying about using what I already have. Not because I am trying to be frugal or virtuous, but because it is fun. And because it keeps me from falling into the “buy more stuff” trap that the world loves so much. It's a quiet rebellion against overconsumption — and it feels good.

My studio is full of things that probably look like “nothing special” to anyone else — little treasures collected over the years, the kinds of items that can’t be bought because they have no real market value. But they have creative potential, which is far more exciting.

The artwork for this blog is a perfect example.

Many months ago, I painted some blue winter trees… and then promptly decided I didn’t like them. I put the sketch into my “unfinished, undecided, not-sure-what-to-do-with-you” folder. While I was thinking about this blog, I pulled the piece out of the folder and thought - OK, let’s see if I can do something.

So I added a girl in a swirling night-sky dress, a glowing moon, a bird, and a small blue fox sitting at her feet, looking up at her like she knows something the girl doesn’t. Suddenly, the abandoned sketch had a story, simply because I gave it another chance.

Maybe that’s the real power of this philosophy. It simply asks us to begin with whatever is already in our hands — and trust that something good can come from it.

So perhaps, next time, when you are scratching your head about what to do...

  • Make a meal from what’s in the fridge.

  • Make a gift from what’s in your cupboard.

  • Make art from something you almost threw away.

You might find that “what you have” isn’t just enough — it’s exactly right.

 
Knowing
Knowing

If you have looked at my art and wondered, “ Wait… is that another apple?” — well, you are right. I have a habit. I use certain symbols over and over again.

I am not alone in this — many artists have their favourite “visual vocabulary.” Marc Chagall filled his dreamlike paintings with floating lovers, roosters, and fiddlers. René Magritte had a fascination with bowler hats and floating apples. Salvador Dalí loved clocks so much that he portrayed them melting. And closer to home, my dad was devoted to concentric red, white, and blue circles — his personal emblem of freedom. These repeating symbols are like an artist’s signature… but in code.


So, here is a quick decoder for some of my favorite symbols.

🍎 The Apple. For me, the apple symbolizes knowledge — the desire to know, to see, and to understand. However, it comes with its risks. Truth can be tantalizing, but it may also be sharp around the edges. Think of Eve, but with less snake drama and more curiosity.

🐦 The Bird. Ah, freedom on wings. The bird in my work represents movement without restrictions — both physical and mental. It embodies the soul’s urge to “Spread your wings and seek freedom.”

⏳ Clocks & Hourglasses. I have an obsession with time. Not in a punctual sense, but in the idea that time is precious. The clocks in my paintings serve as reminders that life is finite, and each day matters. Plus, they add a beautiful element to surreal landscapes.

👁 The Eye. This symbol is my inner compass, my symbol of consciousness. An eye in my art isn’t about “Big Brother” spying; it is about your own watchful awareness, guiding you toward what matters most.

🦋 The Butterfly. The butterfly is the ultimate reminder that beauty is fleeting. It is delicate, it is

short-lived, and worth appreciating while it lasts, much like that perfect cup of tea before it goes cold.


Now that you know my secret code, take a stroll through my artwork on my website and see what you can spot. Here’s your challenge: if you think one of my symbols means something completely different, let me know! I love hearing fresh interpretations — sometimes you see things in my work that even I didn’t know were there.

 

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