Finding Home in Tasmania

I moved to Tasmania in 2012 - a year of following my heart and embracing change. I had always loved Australia, visiting family in Melbourne many times and even backpacking around the country for a year in 2002. But somehow, Tasmania had remained a mystery to me until 2011. When I finally arrived, I knew instantly - I had found somewhere special.

Tasmania was unlike the rest of Australia. It was wilder, greener, more unspoiled. The cooler climate, rugged mountains, mist-covered landscapes, and pristine turquoise waters felt untouched, like one of the last truly untamed places in the world. The air was fresher, the light more radiant, shifting rapidly with the weather. They say if you don’t like the weather in Tasmania, wait ten minutes - I quickly learned how true that was. I was particularly drawn to the coastline, with its wild, windswept beaches, dramatic seas, and striking rock formations - so different from the landscapes I knew in Jersey. It felt raw, elemental, and alive. And so did I.

When I arrived in Hobart, I had no idea what to expect from the local art scene. I knew it would be smaller than Melbourne or Sydney, but I was blown away by the depth of talent and the number of creatives living here. Hobart’s art community was tight-knit but incredibly supportive, and I found myself surrounded by an inspiring standard of painters. While waiting for my visa to come through, I started painting again from home - something I hadn’t done in a while. With no job to take up my time, I immersed myself in my art, and for the first time in years, I felt completely reconnected to it. The new environment gave me fresh energy, and I fell in love with painting all over again.

In 2015, I found my first studio - a tiny, windowless space that was more of an office than a studio. But it was mine, and that was all that mattered. The ability to leave my paints out at the end of the day, rather than packing everything away, felt like a small but significant shift - this was real now. My studio was in Salamanca Arts Centre, surrounded by other artists, and being part of that creative community was invaluable.

The first year was tough - figuring out what I wanted to paint, finding my artistic voice, and learning how to sell my work. My style developed gradually, shaped by endless hours of experimentation and discovering what both I and my audience responded to. Instagram became an essential tool, not only for sharing my work but for receiving feedback and building connections with collectors.

Over time, my style evolved. As my confidence grew, my brushstrokes became looser, my paintings more expressive. I moved away from controlled precision and embraced bold, sweeping marks with large brushes and palette knives. Texture became an obsession - I started experimenting with plaster mixed into my paint, refining a technique that would become a defining feature of my work. It was a journey of trust - trusting the process, trusting my instincts, and trusting that this was where I was meant to be.