To feel and remember

perceptibility

I feel like an invisible weight is pressing on me. Why write a studio blog when the world is so uncomfortable and rough and when everything feels fraught? We watch ourselves do our jobs, our chores, our errands, our coffee meetups and our food shopping. As sorrow builds up in our hearts and threatens to drown us, somehow we keep moving. 

We clear or clip the hurdles as the minutes pass, and the sky changes from light to dark. I paint and draw pictures to feel and remember.

patch

I am grateful for the moments of shared humanity and I hate all the sorrow and fear we are living under. Another day, another news cycle, another heartbreak; yet we keep moving, we keep fighting, and somehow we keep loving. 

Please take care of your kind heart. We need you and the gifts you bring. X.

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. 

My favourite place

In case you missed it, you can read last week's post here.

I went to my favourite place in Edinburgh, Warriston Cemetery. This was a monumental day (no pun intended). Something shifted this week. I sat on a bench and looked over the cemetery and felt joy. The birds were singing, the flowers were blooming, everything was fresh, verdant, and overgrown. Perfectly disheveled and comforting, the sun was glorious and I felt reborn. Suddenly, I had ideas, goals, dreams, and most importantly some structure and support. 

You can read next week's post here.

I work, I walk, I protest

In case you missed it, you can read last week's post here.

This week I feel pretty disheartened by what is going on in the world. I work, I walk, I try to focus on the cherry blossoms.

I also protest.

I am not quite done with the foods that make me feel poorly, I eat my weight in hot crossed buns and a vegan chocolate bunny... soon, soon. I am feeling very overwhelmed by all the art that surrounds me and probably overwhelmed in general.

You can read next week's post here.

Groundwork

In case you missed it, you can read last week's post here.

I enjoy the flowers and walking in Edinburgh in the springtime. I take photos of the shadows and light. At this point, the drawing stops. After Peikko's brilliant visit I realised something. I write my epiphany on a sticky note and post it where I can see it. 

What does this structure and support look like? I am not yet sure, but I start putting parts of it into place. 

I met up with my dear pal, Julia to return to the Fruitmarket for a second viewing. We sit and talk in front of the bold emotive paintings. She finds plenty within the paintings as well. 

Copyright Portia Zvavahera

Afterwards, we sit in a lovely cafe feeling like tourists. This may be my last grief eating cake session for a while... 

We enjoy the view and seem to lay groundwork for some changes. We enjoy a photography exhibition "After the end of History" British Working Class Photography 1989 – 2024 at Stills afterwards. Julia and I are good at rambling around town exploring and just talking it all out. Julia writes a blog as well and is a wonderful artist, draftsperson, and friend. Find her blog here.

You can read next week's post here.

Throw me a line

In case you missed it, you can read last week's post here.

The drawing continues, it's as much about erasing as it is about drawing. Nothing better than a kneaded eraser - like sculpting. I enjoy the yellowed tags, and the limited palette. Home. home. home. Throw me a line.

I know what I am doing.

You can read next week's post here.

Isn't it strange

In case you missed it, you can read last week's post here.

It's very strange how life continues on after someone in your life dies. I am no stranger to grief, I have lost many friends over the years and the majority of them from a young age, and many significant people from my logical and biological family. A parent is different they say, and this is my first experience. My dad didn't want a service and I am in Scotland, my two brothers make the trip to Arkansas to be with my mother. I keep up my end of things via video and phone. We are all exhausted and everything is strange. 

People say strange things too. 

I was off work the week my dad died since it was my birthday, but I go back to work this week. I treat everything as an experiment. I don't exactly know what I can and can't handle or how I am coping. It's a lonelier experience, being so far away. My friends here are lovely and supportive. I am thankful.

My brother Ben sends this photograph of me and my Dad on what I think was my 12th birthday. I am wearing false eyelashes for my old hollywood party - I am an unknown starlet of my own design. My Dad is 4 years younger in the picture than I am now in 2025. That seems strange and wonderful. We weren't worried about our health then. 

Speaking of my wonderful friends, my pal James took me on a birthday adventure to the beautiful Japanese garden at Cowden, but before we go to the garden, we go somewhere I had been meaning to return to for years - the Campbell Castle in Dollar. 

I made a promise to that castle back in 2013 that I would return to Scotland. At the time, I didn't know how or when I would be back - it all seemed rather fraught and impossible. And it pretty much was, but I did it. It was particularly meaningful for me to be there again during this time, as my middle name is Campbell after my grandma's maiden name (my Dad's mother). So, it just seemed to make sense. 

The Japanese garden was beautiful, we see loads of frogs and enjoy cake in the sunshine. I do a lot of grief eating of cake in gorgeous places during this time. 

Thank you for being here on this journey with me. 

You can read next week's post here.

Funny faces, piss and vinegar

My dad Stephen Chapman died on March 5th. He was 90 years old.

My dad was made up of words and music

A house full of books and records

Built of films and movie star trivia

A wild nest of knowledge

Jonathan Winters meets Raymond Carver

Speaking in tongues

Homebrew beer caps exploding and hitting underneath the basement stairs

He was a charming character

Driving gloves and no stops

Old Milwaukee and a book in bed in the afternoon

"Sunrise, Sunset" on a turquoise painted piano

Funny voices, laughter and thunder

Funny faces, piss and vinegar

Opinions, passions, and outrage

A complex collection

Wild loud jazz

Enunciation and projection

An abstract painting come to life

He wasn't like the other dads. He was something else

and I love him exactly as that.

I love you, Dad. Thank you for your encouragement and understanding of me as a painter.

___________________________________________

I turned 53 the next day.

You can read next week's post here.

Return: Manual for Living II

New Small Works

I haven’t written a blog post in ages. I am currently 9 entries behind this year. I am going to endeavour to start filling the gaps and get back on track. Not because I owe it to you, but because my blog helps me to remember things and ultimately it helps everything else in my life. The following entries will be back dated of course and might be a bit more minimal or image heavy while I try to catch up. To those of you who have checked in here, I hope you will get something out of these entries or at least know I am attempting to work my way back to you.

A lot has been going on behind the scenes and my studio blog and my art practice have been the furthest things from my mind. Everything is a bit of a blur and I am finding it even harder than usual to focus. I am looking back at my calendar, photos I took, and social media posts to help me figure out what was happening, against a much larger backdrop that I either will or will not get into. 

Thanks for being here.

My last blog post was on February 7 and it proved to be a popular one, or perhaps people just kept landing on it looking for future posts. Either way I am glad many of you allowed me to be dramatic and also resonated with the post yourselves.

Overwhelmed with everything going on politically, I was calling my representatives in the United States from Scotland often this week in February, along with posting political actions on social media. I was holding on to the second season of Severance as one thing I could look forward to every Friday evening even when everything else was going to shit. I started a small series of new works this week as well. Ultimately creating 7 new small mixed media collage works on paper and framing them in simple white frames.

These pieces remind me of a condensed version of the “manual for living” series I created in 2010. Seems fitting - we may need a manual now more than ever.
At this time, I can only offer these works to folks living in the UK due to prohibitive shipping costs and the fact that these are framed with glass. If you are in the US and really want one please message me and I will give you a shipping quote. 

Art has the power to inspire and provoke thought, and it can also be a vehicle for change. By purchasing one of these new small works of mine, you are not only supporting my work but also contributing to an important cause. £10 from each sale will go directly to the American Civil Liberties Union helping to defend the rights of all people in the United States.

"With immigrant rights, trans justice, reproductive freedom, and more at risk, the ACLU is in the courts and communities across the United States to protect everyone’s rights."

You can see the entire series together here. You can click the message or purchase buttons next to each image to send me a note of your interest, and if you want to buy the piece, I will email you an invoice with my UK bank details.

Okay, Harriet
mixed media on paper
Art Size A6/14.8x10.5 cm
Framed Size 12.5x16.5 cm
Megan Chapman 2025
£65 (includes 2nd class UK Shipping)
Message for invoice to purchase

Always walking up hill
mixed media on paper
Art Size A6/14.8x10.5 cm
Framed Size 12.5x16.5 cm
Megan Chapman 2025
£65 (includes 2nd class UK Shipping)
Message for invoice to purchase

Please let us go there
mixed media on paper
Art Size A6/14.8x10.5 cm
Framed Size 12.5x16.5 cm
Megan Chapman 2025
£65 (includes 2nd class UK Shipping)
Message for invoice to purchase

Let there be moments
mixed media on paper
Art Size A6/14.8x10.5 cm
Framed Size 12.5x16.5 cm
Megan Chapman 2025
£65 (includes 2nd class UK Shipping)
Message for invoice to purchase

Everything you climb
mixed media on paper
Art Size A6/14.8x10.5 cm
Framed Size 12.5x16.5 cm
Megan Chapman 2025
£65 (includes 2nd class UK Shipping)
Message for invoice to purchase

Where no one walks alone
mixed media on paper
Art Size A6/14.8x10.5 cm
Framed Size 16.5x12.5 cm
Megan Chapman 2025
£65 (includes 2nd class UK Shipping)
Message for invoice to purchase

Holding Electric

mixed media on paper

Art Size A6/10.5x14.8cm

Framed Size 12.5x16.5 cm

Megan Chapman 2025

£65 (includes 2nd class UK Shipping)

Message for invoice to purchase

A small framed piece of work sitting on a shelf using the ladder back of the frame.
These can also be displayed on your wall. 

Thank you for your support and patience as I get back in the swing of things.

Take care of yourself. The world needs you and the gifts you bring. Keep fighting!

She talks to rainbows

I painted before I patched

Dirty boots

Hello. Here we are again on an actual Friday. 

Thanks for checking out the Friday Studio Blog. I hope you are doing well. I am sitting out in the sun while I write this. Thanks again to everyone who came out to support the artists of the Out of the Blue Drill Hall last week for our exhibition, Outside + In. The show came down last Saturday at 5pm. It was good to spend so much time in the hall for that week - it was like pushing a pause button on my grief. Art has always protected me in that way. 

This week I found myself plunged back into the trenches and didn't feel my best but I still managed to do a few art-related things. First, I did go to the studio on Tuesday and I decided to patch the holes and repaint my painting wall. I also looked at my paint supplies and just handled a few things in the space. I also managed to record my Tuesday Studio Video Visit! I haven't recorded one in a long time, so that was a relief to do and to do it from the studio. 

Here it is if you missed it on social media. 

I have to admit I didn't feel my best in the space at the time. That space sometimes feels like it is filled with the old ghosts of my hopes and dreams and a heavy dose of punishment. Sometimes it feels like I must go to that room to prove I am working. I must go to that room and prove I am busy and deserving of the space. I must go to that room to make myself scarce. I must go there to be contained. To be my wild self but enclosed in a windowless space where I won't bother anyone. I must go to that room to prove my dedication, worth, and my value. I must earn love and appreciation in that room. 

Heavy wee room, eh? Aye. Fuck that noise. 

So I have to exorcise it and that's what I just did. I just smudged it with the truth. Feelings come and go and feelings shared, lose their power. I am exorcising a lot. Some of you will be here for it and others might need to bail out. That's cool. 

On that same Tuesday, I also saw a fleeting exhibition by another studio mate (Ian Gonczarow). I haven't yet met him but now I have seen his work in the hall and that is a good thing - hopefully, I will meet him soon. More community the better. More art in the building, the better too. I had a good chat with an art worker in the building and my studio mate and then went to hers for lunch and I enjoyed a sunny walk home.

Wednesday (4 weeks of missing Theo) was heavy and I did hard things. Thursday, I ran errands and rewarded myself for the hard things I accomplished and was gifted with a bit of anxiety for my efforts. Yoga and meditation were required as was a book in the sun that evening. Today in the sun as I write this, I love feeling warm, surrounded by flowers, and being outside and free. I love the transportive quality of the music I am listening to - it takes me everywhere. 

In other news, I got another copy of The Artists Way and decided it was time to surrender to that process again. If you know, you know... I'm doing my morning pages and the artist's dates will follow. I got myself an A2 drawing board - it will be here soon. 

In the meantime, I am walking, walking, walking... 

"The position of the artist is humble. He (She) is essentially a channel." - Piet Mondrian

That's all I have for you this week on the Friday Studio Blog. If you missed a few posts, please go back and check them out. Thanks so much for your support!

Want to buy me a ko-fi? Click the link! Thanks!

Without an anchor

I am still here, I didn't turn into dust. I am not sure how. I am walking for miles (my go-to coping strategy) talking, seeing friends, sleeping, resting, grieving, recovering, eating, crying, crying, crying. I talk to you as I look back into the empty rooms. I hope you will visit me in my dreams. I want you back. This is pretty fucking hard. Layers upon layers of grief. I can't move your things. 

My friends have been amazing and the flowers are blooming and the trees are leafing out. I talk to the squirrels, pigeons, and birds. I suddenly have so many bird feeders. My wee animal friends help me - stray cats roam in the garden. They are not you, but I hope they bring messages from you. I am surrounded by beauty in sadness, I am surrounded by big hearts and am aware of all the bodhisattvas that walk in our midst. All the caregivers, healers, and helpers. I try to practice compassion, my mind throws me endless curveballs. I am feeling it all and walking through it. Again I say, this is pretty fucking hard. I miss you so much, Theo. 

In other news, I learned of another loss. My friend, patron, supporter of the arts, punk rocker, photographer and all-around good guy, Peter Goodbody passed away at the end of March and with everything else going on I only just found out. 

If you bought a print or t-shirt with one of my faces on it, Peter Goodbody is the reason why. He suggested that I make them and so I followed through. I will always be grateful for his patronage, friendship, and support. He was a brilliant supporter of musicians and artists across the board. 

Peter interviewed me for his music and art website, P3DRO. I was honoured to be asked but even more thrilled with how brilliant the interview was - he asked great questions and I enjoyed being able to weave my love of music and art together. The interview felt like a special gift. I will always be thankful for Peter and all his help and support over the years. Rest in Power, my friend. You will be missed. 

Here is the interview again for those who missed it the first time or who would like to read it again. 

https://p3dro.net/2021/03/01/megan-chapman-this-is-our-family-tree-made-of-charcoal-dust/

Peter Goodbody modelling one of my shirts.

Thank you, Peter. 

See you later...

The Crossing
mixed media on canvas 20x20"
Megan Chapman 2004
private collection

My birthday was on Monday, March 6th. I turned 51. I am writing this post well after the fact. I remember it was a bright sunny day - one of the first days that it felt like spring was actually going to come at last. I wore a bright daffodil yellow coloured cardigan. 

I started the day by knowingly visiting someone very special to me for the last time. It was a beautiful and easy conversation and everything was said that needed to be. I marvelled at their strength, boldness, unwavering kindness, and the comforting nature that they put out into the world on that day and all days, even though they hadn't been dealt the best of hands. 

I said "I love you, see you later..." as I walked out the door. We both knew I would not. 

In a seemingly split reality, across town, a couple of dear friends were waiting for me for a birthday lunch. I cried at the dining room table when I arrived and shared the power and wonder I had just witnessed. We then enjoyed our bowls of homemade chilli around the table. I was grateful for the kindness and a place to land. 

Theo took a turn and the rest of the week was a blur.

One thousand miles an hour : Exhibition, Open Studios, New Flat

My brain feels like it is going one thousand miles an hour. A ping-pong match mixture of happiness, excitement (my show and open studios), disbelief (at world news and American politics), grief over the passing of a dear friend and relief for having found somewhere to live (finally!). This is how my brain feels even after my yoga and meditation.

Honestly, I think I am totally worn out. The stress of the constant search for a place to live over the last eight weeks was pretty intense and has caught up with me. I am grateful for all the leads, help, support, and just general good vibes we were given in the search. Thank you.

Now I just want to get in the new house and make it ours, a fresh start is needed. I also need to process my grief over my friend. This will probably happen when everything slows down or when I am least expecting it, at least I will be by the sea.

My exhibition,"Between memory and story" closed on Friday night at 5pm. It was a wonderful experience. Here's the Tuesday Studio Video Visit (filmed on a Wednesday) expressing my feelings about the exhibition.



Thanks again to everyone who supported the exhibition by their kind comments, visits, and sharing photos of the show on social media. It was a lovely experience.

After a bit of a studio clean up, I am ready to open it up to the public this Sunday from 12-5pm. I am pleased to be participating in the second Makers Marque and open studio event at The Out of the Blue Drill Hall. Learn more below.

Makers Marque
Sunday 30th September 2018
12pm - 5pm, £2 Entry/£1 Conc.

Makers Marque is more than just a market for local traders and designers. It is a chance for people to get involved, learn a new skill and see the processes that usually take place behind closed studio doors. The event is a mix of local craftspeople demonstrating their skills, artist and makers workshops, repair stations and marketplace.

We have workshops spaces, a beautiful and spacious market hall, on-site cafe and with local makers/ artists and designers selling their unique products and demonstrating their craft.

Drill Hall based artists Megan Chapman (studio G23) and Mairi Brown (studio F14) will be taking part with OPEN STUDIOS during the event!

Never a dull moment! We get the keys to our wee red brick 1840 fisherman's cottage in Granton on October 4th. I can't wait. 

I also can't wait to get back to a painting routine and just getting back to some type of normalcy albeit with a new perspective. I am grateful for all the support I have been given. Thank you.

Who knows, perhaps I can write next week's studio blog in the new place! Oh, there will be pictures - it's my next blank canvas. 

Special love to my dear friend, Antoinette. She is sadly not on this plane anymore but I know she is nearby on another and she would be so happy for this next seaside adventure.

Love and light to you and yours.

*************

Do you enjoy my blog, my video visits, the paintings I share, or the other content that I provide for free across social media? Consider buying me a cup of coffee in support of my work. I am a member of Ko-fi.com, A friendly way for creators to get paid! Thank you!