California Schemin'

In the time it takes
Acrylic on canvas, 46 x 32"
© 2020 Megan Chapman 

Today I had an amazing experience. I got to see one of my paintings on the big screen for the first time! I booked tickets for the first showing on opening day of James McAvoy's acclaimed directorial debut, California Schemin'.

I think I might have exclaimed "Holyyyyyyyyy Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit!" under my breath to my pal in the darkened cinema. Or maybe it was "Oh My God!!!" when the camera panned and my painting was right in the centre of the scene above the fireplace. This is the penthouse...

Screen grab from California Schemin' Promo
© StudioCanalUK © California Schemin

There it was, just for a few seconds, but a definite presence. My large abstract painting with its bold strokes of pink and black cutting across the canvas - the trappings of success: our Scottish heroes of the film, Silibil N' Brains, had made it big. I was so engrossed in the film that the sight of my painting caught me by surprise even though I'd spotted it in a promo clip on Instagram earlier in the week.

Something I painted is now in a major motion picture by a famous Scottish actor and now director, filmed in Scotland about two talented Scottish rappers from Dundee who adopt American accents to finally get their big break.

What this moment means to me is hard to put into words. As an American artist (now an American Scot) who uprooted my life to come to Scotland with so many unknowns before me, I am extremely proud to have my work be part of this film. I love everything about it.

If you are in the U.K. this weekend, go see California Schemin'! It's a captivating and wild story of talent and fierce determination, and a proud moment for Scottish cinema.

I know you must be tired

Book, Megan Chapman © 2019 

 
Where are artists supposed to make art? The art that is slow and takes time and tending to like a wild garden? The art that is messy and fucks up the floor and walls? The art that is political and angry? Where are the artists supposed to go for understanding and sanctuary when they don't fit into the touted creative economy of the commercially viable and sanitised? 

Where are artists supposed to show, when every opportunity is a speculative exercise in exploitation? 

Where do the artists get a foothold when accessibility is not considered and they don't follow the usual stilted art speak? Who is place making for them on the liminal plane?

Watching the light

Another place in time

Dear Reader, 

I hope the sun is shining where you are and that you are well and happy. I guess I enjoyed the community so much last week, that I caught the community cold. I have been resting, researching, and doing nothing at all and it has been much needed. I wish I didn't have to get sick or have a migraine for my body and brain to understand how important deep rest is. 

Going forward I must prioritise this. Without rest and self preservation, there is nothing. 

Take care until next week and thank you for being here. 

- Megan 

Your community is waiting

Cup of sun in the studio

The sun is shining through the window and onto my face. Daffodils smile at me from the jar on the table and I have a dreamy Hermanos Gutiérrez song on repeat on my big headphones. I sway to the music like a reed in water. 

Yesterday, I walked out the door and into the sun. I surveyed the pots in my garden - Daffodils, Muscari, Tulips, and Hyacinth all greeted me. The Lilac is preparing to leaf. I left my wee haven and walked on through the neighbourhood past the art school where two women were working on a large piece outside. I saw the shopkeeper who sells plants chatting with passersby. I walked on to the library where the friendly librarians answered my questions and cheerfully assisted me in my research. I left with two books, new information, and a spring in my step. I walked down the road past the glass artist working in her studio window and then on to the wee grocery, where we talked about celebrating the sun, enjoying our days, and the pleasures of good food. And then after being out in my neighbourhood for a couple of hours I walked back home. On my way, I shared a laugh with a young man enjoying a drink outside, and I found some street treasure. 

Street treasure: A box of 100 Flower Postcards from the Royal Horticultural Society

Later in the day I hit the neighbourhood streets again to visit my friends at their open studio event and met their friends too. We all had spirited conversations peppered with shared laughs and commiserations about art, life, and the way of things. I think alliances were forged or at least a recognition of kindred spirits. It was a good afternoon that turned into night. I left with art, new information, and again with a spring in my step.

It was a wonderful day full of everything I value and believe in. It was the type of day I dreamed about as a child when I played with my Fisher Price Village, read a Richard Scarry book, or watched Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood on PBS. We can never underestimate the power of community connection and interdependence.

Written on my studio wall: 

Protect your peace. Say No.
Say Yes to Art, Movement, Nature, and Community.
Create your world now, not later. 

So go outside and be weird, be awkward, be ridiculous, laugh loudly, say the wrong thing. Disappoint people. Find the people who won't be disappointed. Ask for help. Be vulnerable. Your one wild and precious life and your community is waiting.

Thank you for being part of mine

Make the time

After last week's celebrations. It was back to work with good amounts of rain, wind, and strong bursts of sun. I tracked the light as it danced around the flat. I also developed a photographic relationship with an Amaryllis as it came into bloom. 

I wrote in my journal on the 11th of March:

There is potential in all of us under the right conditions and if we are shown care and patience. 

I have had this Amaryllis bulb since late November (with the idea of forcing it for Christmas). Even after following the directions on the box there remained no life. I was about to give up on it, thinking it was a dud.

Inspired by seeing my mother's blooming Amaryllis over our video calls, I decided to try a few different tactics to encourage it to thrive. Low and behold it started springing to life in February and now it has bloomed. It is outrageously beautiful. 

Sometimes the rules/directions need breaking or changing because they don't apply to the subject. We can gently persevere with patience and care. We can ask what is needed. This Amaryllis needed extra support and it needed more time - it would not be forced.

The flower is an oracle and teacher. 
Make time to listen. 
_______________

The world is a mess and I am glad you are here, sharing your gifts. Take care until next week.

Celebration, memory, and world building

I will make a new world with your rubbish

It's my Birthday weekend here at the Studio Blog. 

I think I started celebrating last Friday with my "Good Morning" painting as it was a wonderful gift to myself in action and result. I have enjoyed being greeted by my painting each morning since. 

On Tuesday I spent all day in my garden tackling an ancient vine because I was inspired by a piece of discarded fencing that had been catching my eye for months. I had a vision and knew what I needed to do. There is nothing I like more than finding something discarded and creating a new world and home for it. It is the ultimate thrill and mix of creativity and gumption. I ended up reworking my whole garden due to someone's rubbish. Both the day in the studio painting something full of joy for myself out of an "old bastard" of a painting and creating a pot stand out of someone's rubbish are examples of decisive action and world building. Two things that I thrive on and want more of. A great way to celebrate my life and understanding of how I best operate within it. 

Paul Gauguin, Vision of the Sermon (Jacob Wrestling with the Angel), 1888

Continuing on the themes of celebration and world building, I took myself out to the National Gallery of Scotland on a quiet Wednesday morning. I decided to take my time and scan several of the audio descriptions of the works around the gallery. I enjoyed being still and listening to various scholars tell me the hidden insights of the paintings in the collection over my earbuds. It was a luxurious treat to really look at the paintings with new purpose and fresh eyes. 

I especially enjoyed the audio descriptions of the following pieces: 

Leonardo da Vinci, The Madonna of the Yarnwinder, about 1501
Attributed to Grifo di Tancredi, The Death of St Ephraim and Scenes from the Lives of the Hermits, About 1280 - 1290

Diego Velázquez, An Old Woman Cooking Eggs, 1618

Sir Anthony van Dyck, The Lomellini Family, about 1625 - 1627
Vincent van Gogh, Orchard with Apricot Trees in Blossom, Arles, 1888

Paul Gauguin, Vision of the Sermon (Jacob Wrestling with the Angel), 1888

I highly recommend the self-guided audio tours. 

Later that day I was surprised with a lovely art opportunity (more on that later, but it felt like a birthday gift in itself.) 

Dad in the 1970s, Charcoal on cardboard

On Thursday, it was the one year anniversary of my father's death. I listened to Dave Bruebeck. I thought of my father and meditated on our relationship and it felt very meaningful and cathartic. I spent some time looking at photographs and studying his face and decided that I wanted to draw him. It was such a good and meaningful way to spend time together again. The tears and memories flowed. I love and miss you, Dad. 

54

For my birthday on Friday, I had a lovely day out with my dear friend Julia. There was sunshine and a lovely walk up Calton Hill to survey the city, followed by a delightful lunch of tacos. Then we were on the hunt for the best cake with a view which we found. Afterwards, as we walked on, we encountered a street scene featuring a brass band and spontaneous street singers. It really couldn't have been much better.

It was a beautiful day full of friendship, community, and a dash of magic. I went to sleep tired and grateful. 

Thank you for spending time with me as I continue to celebrate. I hope wherever you are that the flowers are blooming and there is music in the air. 

Until next week, keep fighting - the world needs you. 

Why so serious?

Good morning, mixed media on canvas, 100x150cm © 2026 Megan Chapman

Oh, I know why I am serious. However, sometimes I do need to shake it up and rebel against myself and my "better" judgement. Sometimes, I need to have an opposite day.

I have a deep love and a deep hate of routine - I desperately need routines to help me feel productive and centred but I also need to have a more "organic" and "go with the flow" attitude. When my routine becomes too restrictive for too long, my brain will scream at me, like John Locke from LOST - "Don't tell me what I can't do!" This is a  constant and exhausting battle.

So that's where "opposite day" comes into the mix. I will eat the opposite types of food, drink the opposite types of drinks, move my routine around, or do something I haven't done in a long time. Or be a little less rigid with my own deadlines and plans. Or my goal will be to purposely do something badly that I usually do well.

How this manifested on Friday was that I went to the corner market and bought two Dr. Peppers (this used to be my favourite soft drink when I was a teenager). I don't drink soft drinks these days very often. These Dr. Peppers signal a change in plan and the brain knows we are about to have some fun!

Anyway - I knew I wanted to paint over an old bastard of a painting and I wanted to make something cheerful, in the realm of decor and just for myself (opposites). I wanted to fill a blank wall in my bedroom. 

I also wanted to dance, jump around, and sing. Fueled by my two Dr. Peppers and some nutritional yeast covered popcorn - that's exactly what I did. Music flowed through my big headphones and as I kicked into the air, I was free! 

I covered the large canvas in layer after layer of paint, writing and crossing out words. I faced the painting like a child at a chalkboard at primary school- writing, "I will not worry" over and over again, crossing and painting it out. Later my carefully looped letters wrote, "I will have fun" in white pencil over the pink paint, again to be partially erased and painted over.  As I painted, I danced, sang, and kicked.

I will not worry

I will not worry

I will have fun
I will have joy

I sang along to an old Bad Religion song: 

"Hey, everybody's looking but they never can see
All the angst, corruption and the dishonesty
Look around and ask someone if you are alive..."

Kick, Jump. Paint, Repeat. 

I will not worry
I will not worry

I will have fun
I will have joy

And at the end of a long high energy day, I had created a new painting just for me. Something cheerful and also filled with the punk rock, Dr. Pepper energy of youth. A floating house and my childhood cursive sings across the canvas, "Good morning."

And it was.