Showing posts with label 2026. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2026. Show all posts

Friday, October 9, 2026

Cutting through the noise

Cutting through the noise

Well, here we are - it's the second weekend of October. There is a chill in the air as the low light casts its warm shadows amongst the falling leaves. 

Last month, I introduced you to Megan Chapman's Postbox Originals: Accessible art through your letterbox. This month, I am featuring a series of six, gestural small works from 2021. Each painting, on raw canvas, is mounted and fits an 8x10" frame. Each piece is signed, titled, and dated on the back and the price includes p&p within the UK. The work will be insured and tracked. It's a more affordable way to build your collection and support me so that I can devote more time to creating new work. 

I hope you can take a break from the world and
cut through the noise with this month's featured series.

Thank you for your support. 
Until next week, keep fighting.

Friday, May 22, 2026

Exhibition News!

Under the surface
mixed media on canvas, 10x10cm
2026 © Megan Chapman


Hello Dear Readers,

I hope you enjoyed last week's post featuring a new wee painting and poem. If you've been following my work long enough, you'll know that titles are very important to me. Naming my work is an equal part of my process. The poem was a way for me to illustrate how titles serve as keys to let the viewer in to the work.

Last week's small painting and poem (and the work shown above) were all inspired by being invited by fellow artist and dear friend Steven Heaton to participate in Saul Hay Gallery's 10th anniversary exhibition next month in Manchester. 

50 artists from Saul Hay’s past and present have been challenged to create a piece measuring just 10x10cm. In turn each artist has invited a new artist, one who has never shown at Saul Hay before, to join the show. 

10 x 10 Exhibition

​Saturday 13th June - Sunday 28th June 2026 ​​​
Tuesday to Saturday 10 - 5.30 and Sunday 10 - 5
Closed Sunday 21st

Railway Cottage, behind Bass Warehouse, off Castle Street,
Castlefield, Manchester M3 4LZ

Email: info@saulhayfineart.co.uk
You can view the 10x10 works online and more will continue to be added.

Disappear Here
Mixed Media on Canvas, 10x10cm
2026 © Megan Chapman
Sold

Friday, May 15, 2026

Disappear Here

Disappear Here, mixed media on canvas, 10x10cm, 2026 © Megan Chapman
Sold

Paintings are thresholds to be crossed

I put the keys under the mat by the front door
But you have to come to the porch and you have to know where to look
Don't be afraid to wake the sleeping dog or worry the neighbour
You must be brave and feel that those keys were left for you

Breathe. Turn the lock. Open the door.
Step into the dark. Find the light.
Now you can sit and stay a while.
No rush, no hurry.

You are inside
My home

Make yourself comfortable
Imagine yourself living here
Within the mystery of its bones

As you leave the key for the next guest
Something of you remains

Friday, April 17, 2026

Rest before the fall

rest before the fall
21 x 15 cm, mixed media on canvas
© 2023 Megan Chapman

Dear Reader,

Did you go to the UK cinema last weekend to see California Schemin'? If not, make plans to go soon. Hopefully this brilliant film will be released in the USA soon as well. Thanks to everyone who has been excited to see my painting in the film. Having your support and enthusiasm means a lot to me and it is so fun to share this experience with you all.


In other news, I had a bit of a full on week - a lot of "go-go-going" without much time in between things which I usually require and prefer. I am glad the week is behind me. It brings a somewhat gross but catchy song from my childhood to mind, and if you click this you will get to experience it too. 

In the few spare moments, I worked on finishing off a wee series of paintings from 2023 that I always liked but hadn't been able to complete. You know - the boring (but somewhat meditative) bits, such as painting the sides of the canvas, signing, dating, titling, and adding the hanging hardware. I decided I needed to photograph them again too as my previous images just weren't up to par.

It's a dark and textured series, a set of six small canvas works that were the offshoot of a larger series painted in that same year. I have a backlog of unfinished projects that I am trying to get sorted in between my other work and my desire for a bit of fun and a lot more rest.

I went back and read one of my early blog posts from 2007 and decided to take my own advice and I am glad I did. I was reminded that little by little the work gets done and action is always where it's at. A lot can be accomplished in 15 minutes and it all adds up. I am feeling good about the progress I have made.

So, that's how you find me, recovering from the week and taking everything 15 minutes at a time. 

holding everything dear
15 x 21 cm mixed media on canvas
© 2023 Megan Chapman

Until next week, keep fighting - the world needs you and the gifts you bring. Thank you for sharing your time with me. 

Friday, January 2, 2026

Squarely in the now

work in progress 2026

Happy New Year!

I am sitting at my work table in the studio to write this. I am looking out of the windows to the sky. The sun is casting shadows on the buildings around me. I see planes flying into the city over the Forth, I telepathically welcome them. Seagulls gather on roof tops. I am surrounded by my paint, pencils, charcoal, pastels and brushes. All of my available art from the last 11 years is in one place and under the same roof as me and that feels good. 

I worked yesterday and today in my studio - filled with the "begin the year as you mean to go on" spirit. Filling the pages of an old photo album with mark making and collage. Collage has always been foundational to my work, even though I don't like getting glue on my fingers. It's a good starting point.

We've made it through the holidays, the first without my dad. There are many people missing - loss seems to cling to the years but we carry on.

I don't really want to write a year end review blog for 2025. Maybe this is why. The thought of it seems heavy and complicated.

So, I make another cup of tea, plug in my sunshine lamp, eat some dark chocolate and play music on my big headphones instead.

I will get around to the year end review post eventually (because I am a creature of habit and superstition) but not today. I will write it when I am ready -  that's how I work, I move slow and then I move fast. 

I have been thinking about what I want my art to say and mean in 2026. I don't usually think like that as it seems a bit prescriptive but I thought it could be a good exercise. I usually make art as a necessary exorcism or as a reaction to outside forces.

A pal sends a message: the sun is out and it would be good to get out and away from the screen. I leave my blog and make a mad dash out the door.

It was very cold but bright out. We had mediocre coffee in a dark and divey cafe but we had some top notch laughs.
 I also noticed bunches of somewhat sad daffodils for sale in the shops - it's too soon, but it is good to remember spring is around the corner. I took photos of the shadows. 

Sunshine on number 55

Once back home, I noticed that there was still a good amount of light left at 4pm. 

Now, I can hear the wild wind outside playing my bamboo chimes, and this is where I am going to leave you on this first Friday of January 2026 - squarely in the now. 

With peace and gratitude from my wintering heart to yours.