There’s just something about creating that settles my mind and makes me happy.  I still get excited opening a fresh sketchbook or sitting down with charcoal or paint.

What I probably didn’t realise when I was younger was just how much I would end up loving teaching it.

These days what I’m passionate about isn’t actually my own artwork — it’s watching someone else suddenly “get it”. That little moment where a student who has been frustrated with shading, or proportions, or drawing eyes for weeks suddenly looks at their page and says, “Ohhh… now I understand.” I honestly still love that as much now as I did years ago.

I think because I struggled with some things myself when I was learning, I understand how vulnerable creativity can feel. A lot of people walk into art classes already convinced they “aren’t artistic” or they compare themselves to everyone else before they’ve even started. I try hard to dispell that idea as I believe art should feel enjoyable, relaxing, expressive and personal — not stressful.

Over the years I’ve taught all sorts of people — little kids full of energy, shy teenagers, adults returning to art after decades, people with additional needs, retirees finally giving creativity a go after always saying they were “too busy.” And honestly, every single one of them teaches me something too.

Some of my favourite moments aren’t the big impressive artworks. They’re the quieter moments. A student sitting a little taller because they’re proud of themselves. Someone relaxing into the process instead of worrying about perfection. Watching confidence slowly grow without them even realising it.

At this stage of my life, I think that’s why I still care about it so much.

Art has this wonderful way of slowing people down. It gives people space to breathe a bit. To focus. To think differently. To express things they sometimes can’t put into words. I see that happen in the studio all the time.

And for me personally, teaching never really feels like “work” in the usual sense. Yes, it’s exhausting sometimes. Yes, running classes can be chaotic. But I still wake up genuinely looking forward to seeing what everyone creates each week.

I feel very lucky that I’ve been able to spend this part of my life doing something that combines creativity, people, learning and community all together in one place.

That’s probably the simplest way to explain why I do what I do.  I just really love seeing people discover they’re capable of more than they thought.

I love what I do and do what I love.