Let's go!

"Fear is the cheapest room in the house, I'd like to see you living in better conditions." - Hafiz

One day in early November, I was walking through my flat and the solution came to me suddenly. "I know how it all fits - I know how to make this work!" And with that a plan was finally put into motion, not a thought rolling around in my head endlessly, not a problem or a burden but a hopeful and actionable step. 

I gave my notice at Studio G23 at the Out of the Blue Drill Hall at the start of December. After eleven years it was time to move my studio. 

And so I did. I moved by multiple awkward bus trips and several taxis and somehow bit by bit in between work and other engagements, the move was handled. I am very grateful to my pal Julia for helping me on multiple occasions. Her kind partner Robb helped with the last two loads by car. I can't thank them enough. 

I am also thankful to my close friends who unknowingly kept me accountable by reading my updates as I navigated the process. 

Of course, I also had to patch holes, paint, and clean up the old studio. And even though I haven't recorded a Tuesday Studio Video Visit in ages, I recorded a sign off before I turned off the lights and said my last goodbye to my old studio. 

Memories and ghosts 

Studio G23: December 2014 - December 2025

Once at the new space, I had to set it all up again and reconfigure things. I am not going to lie it was a hell of a lot of work - but also very exciting. All my paintings and materials are back together in one place! I can now work in a light filled space with instant access. A missing piece has been returned and just in time for Christmas and New Year - the ultimate gift to myself. Let me introduce you to my new studio! Join me in my excitement as I begin this new chapter.

space to dream and work

everything in its right place

I still have some fine tuning to do on the new space, furniture to add or take away, and works on paper to organise better, but I am very excited to move forward and return to my work in this space in the new year. I think there will be a bit of a reintroduction of myself and my work, updates to make to my website, and hopefully better ways for us to connect online and in person over my work!

I am thankful to everyone who has made this possible: friends, family, co-workers, my awesome landlady, and my generous ko-fi supporters (Jennifer, Tamsin, Jennifer, and Annie) and of course, my long term patrons. I am also thankful to myself for never giving up and for my resolute dedication to art. It's ridiculously hard to be an artist in a society that doesn't always value or understand what we're on the planet to do, particularly in a culture that often exploits creativity yet still demands gratitude.

I will never forget those who have supported and recognised my work over the years and have made this path just a little bit easier. Thank you. 

Until next week (or year) keep fighting. We need you and the gifts you bring. 
Here's a song for you. 
__________________

PS. I know that I usually write the year end review post on the last Friday of December, but I am leading with the new studio because I'd rather look forward or be in the now (and next week - I will see what the fuss was about in 2025). Looks like we are already shaking things up! Happy New Year when the time comes - and thanks for your support.

Work well not hard

Small canvas work in progress

Hello Dear Readers,

I am not sure what is going on but my old studio blog is getting a lot of traction, especially in these last two months - the numbers suggest bots, but I will choose to hope there are real people behind the ever expanding view count. Hello! Thanks for joining me on this Friday ritual that has spanned over 18 years now. 

It's a gorgeous morning, a cool breeze rustles the leaves of the bay tree two doors down. I have a cup of Earl Grey (been off the matcha since having Covid) and I am listening to frequencies designed to help me focus.

The world continues to be "wild at heart and weird on top." The flood of information and outrage is really too much to bear by design. 

I have the privilege and deep need to focus on the breeze on the back of my neck, the way the sunlight makes patterns on the floor, and currently the ability to prioritise my relative peace. 

As I mentioned last week, I had Covid. I am now on the mend and grateful that I recovered as quickly and as easily as I did. Still not fun and quite worrisome at times of course, but I am glad to be feeling better (and grateful for vaccines and science).

You know that statement, "Do something your future self would thank you for?" I often struggle to know what statements like this actually mean, but I think I have figured it out. I just happened to feel inspired to batch cook and freeze portions of 3 different meals for myself before I got sick. It was incredible to have these tasty and wholesome lunches and dinners waiting for me each day that I was ill. I was struck by how smart, efficient, and caring it was to have done this small task that took maybe an hour and gave back so much more than the time I put in. This is something I will try to do more of in the future. I am a good cook (I think a lot of artists are) and it was such a gift to myself to be able to enjoy these meals. 

In other news, I was able to paint. I worked on two more new pieces in my Sunday series, just laying the ground work for what I will try to finish this Sunday. I seem to be developing more natural rhythms in my life that work with my brain rather than against it. It feels good to have these particular days, times, or hours for these specific activities. I have always mentioned that in painting, I find a limited palette more expansive. I think I am working toward creating a more "limited palette" for my whole life. You can do so much with four of your favourite colours, why mess with the ones that confuse, conflict, and muddy the waters? Seems like applying this to life could also be beneficial. 

canvas panel in progress

I will continue to take it easy this weekend, work more on my paintings, enjoy the light, music, and try to cook myself up some more care. I hope you can do something similar. You are worth the kindness you show yourself. You are worth the slowness, the time spent lost in your thoughts and dreams. These are gentle acts of resistance, joy, and love and are more important than you know. Please keep fighting. 

This gift remains

Little Edie Flag Dance, Grey Gardens, Maysles Brothers' Film 1976

It's the 4th of July and while not patriotic, it is still an atmosphere that I can easily recall: a hot, sticky, Arkansas summer. Picnic tables at the park, Mom's amazing BBQ baked beans, hot dogs, and watching the country club's fireworks from a distance at the picnic table on the side of Mt. Sequoyah, and then later the fireworks at the Northwest Arkansas Mall. Bottle Rockets (and getting hit in the neck with a bottle rocket - thanks, Sean). The smell of burning snakes (not real snakes) as they undulated on the pavement. A feeling of a bit more freedom and extra wildness, walking the hot streets in the neighborhood to the pool with my friend, Annie. Vivid summer memories of childhood. 

But today, my brain has other plans—today it feels like the hashbrowns at the Waffle House (another American institution). Today, I am scattered, smothered, and covered... if you know, you know. This 4th of July I am anxious, angry, and fretful.

Today, the sky is grey and featureless as little Edie from Grey Gardens does her perpetual flag dance, frozen in time on my computer screen. Rain starts to fall on the pane of the tilted open window and I am a bit cold and far from home and the people I love. 

The US government did a bad, bad thing yesterday, and it all feels a bit much. I soothe myself by looking at and crying over Bruegel paintings. Yes, really. It's all right there. The paintings of Bruegel and Bosch were my version of Where's Waldo. Certain paintings become touchstones for grounding. These paintings serve as kinship and provide strength and a knowing. Like holding up a mirror passed through the family for decades—all your people have gazed in the same glass, and they are still there with you now.

The Triumph of Death, oil on panel c. 1562
117 cm × 162 cm (46 in × 63.8 in) Pieter Bruegel the Elder
Museo del Prado, Madrid

In these hard and strange times, I am so grateful to have this type of relationship with art. To be able to slow down and just go into a painting, to know a painting, to feel the support of a painting, to marvel and dream over a painting. To feel seen and known by a painting and to know it in return. It's a rare gift that I credit my parents for making  available to me through the prints on the walls and the books on the shelves in our little home in Arkansas.

No matter where I am or what happens, this gift remains. 

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.

200 breadcrumbs to get to this place

A stack of my latest paintings on paper

March. It's been one hell of a month. I am feeling pretty worn out and grateful to have arrived at the weekend. I haven't been using words on the studio blog lately as I am using them elsewhere. 

This David Lynch meme found on the internet is relatable.
Just substitute painting for the word film. 

The sun brightens the room after a series of darker and stormy days. The light is lovely, though my phone tells me more rain is coming in a couple of hours. I am content to sit in the sun (however temporary) and listen to music as I type. 

I have painted over 200 pieces since the 29th of January. Of course, many are just process works - breadcrumbs on the path to somewhere else. Right now, it's all about returning to the energy and the regularity of the practice. This flurry of activity has been about getting reacquainted with why I paint and draw at all. It's about why I have painted and drawn my entire life. 

It's always a re-learning at first, or it feels that way. The return. What lines, what colours, what movements, what compositions, what materials, what moves me? What moves my hand, eye, brain, and heart? What lines are mine, and which lines are borrowed? Do I lean on a trick, a technique, a motif? And why do I lean on it? What does it say about me and how I want to feel? Is it a trick? All the questions swirl and dance while I work. The music is perfect. The music isn't right. Go back again and repeat the song that works - the song and the line meld and get stronger. Taking me away. 

Just this past week, the work is starting to trust me again. It's holding me for longer and is starting to talk and tell me where to go. I have had to paint these 200 breadcrumbs to get to this place. Painting is a relationship one must tend. 

Thank you for being here and for all the positive feedback I have received about these latest pieces of work. I appreciate it. I can't and don't want to create in a vacuum. The process and ritual are for me, but the work needs you too. 

Consider leaving me a wee tip for the paintings (48 over on Facebook) I have shared for free this month. Thank you for supporting my work. 

Special thanks to my monthly supporters: Jennifer Libby Fay, Tamsin Haggis, Jennifer Douglas Arbuckle, and the late Pat Bremner. 

Created in its wake

We've been here before

mixed media on paper

29.7 x 42 cm (11.69 x 16.54 in)

£125

The sun has been out but it has been bitterly cold. The blue sky and the brightness have been a welcome change. It's even staying light well after 4pm. Spring is around the corner (a long way around the corner, but around the corner just the same).

Memory Serves

mixed media on paper

29.7 x 42 cm (11.69 x 16.54 in)

£125

I took two walks to post three of my works on paper to their new homes in the States and to Glasgow. 

Monday: Post office walk number 1

I enjoyed the sun and even saw my first snowdrops! I gasped out loud when they caught my eye like a long-lost friend, a sort of "what are you doing here!" moment. That pretty much sums me up - I am constantly amazed by the world and nature's beauty. It truly brings me such comfort and joy. Listening to music and walking in nature feed into everything else I do.

Wednesday: Post office walk number 2

It was crisp and cold out, but no snow. I visited an old graveyard on the way home. One of my favourite things to do. I love the old stones covered in lichen. Reading the names, running my hand over the symbols - angels, skulls, and masonic imagery. Always astonished by the dates from so long ago. I walk over the frozen grass looking at the skeleton trees of winter, breathing it all in.

Sequence of webs #3

mixed media on paper

29.7 x 42 cm (11.69 x 16.54 in)

£125

I would like to walk to the post office again soon. Five works on paper remain. I am enjoying featuring specific works during the month. This will continue, it helps me focus and not get too overwhelmed. I have created a lot of work over my lifetime and during these past 9 plus years in Scotland. Not only have I created it, I have managed it - stored it, moved it, packed it, documented it, and kept up with it. Every time I create something, it feels like a billion-step process is created in its wake. I am becoming more discerning that what I create must warrant all the steps and all the expense and energy.

I am also thinking about what I want and need to say, as well as, how to say it in my future work. This all takes time, so it's a good thing it's still winter. While I ponder it all, I will keep featuring specific bodies of work from my studio. Let me know if you have any questions about these works on paper.

Rebuilding. Sketches for a new tomorrow #3

mixed media on paper

29.7 x 42 cm (11.69 x 16.54 in)

£125

Sequence of webs #1

mixed media on paper

29.7 x 42 cm (11.69 x 16.54 in)

£125

In other news, a bit of culture I've enjoyed: 

Films: 

Saltburn 

The Holdovers

Television: 

True Love (6-part series on Channel 4)

Music: 

Pictish Trail 

Books: 

Daily Rituals: Women at Work by Mason Currey 

(just picked this up yesterday - excited to read it)

Thanks for popping by the Studio Blog. I hope you are well, happy, and inspired and if not, tomorrow is another day. Thank you for being here. Keep fighting.

2021: Year in review

I take a deep breath. It's that time again (I guess) - time to review the past year of my art life. This is mostly a helpful practice, as time gets away from me and I am often unsure of what I have done or created. As I sit down to write this, I am weary and I don't feel like I created much at all. These almost 2 years now of pandemic living has messed with my wiring a bit as it has for so many.  So today, I am going into this practice with empathy for myself and all beings and I am going to dig into my past year with curiosity and while searching for clarity. 

Have music, tea, and ready, set, go!

January 2021: 

Walking is of course crucial to my art life and is fairly well maintained throughout the year except for strangely during the warmer/nicer months. I was slow out of the gates to start working at the start of the year but around the 15th of January, a wee flood of work emerged. 

My palette of yellow ochre, grey, black, and white paint along with yellow, white, burnt sienna Conte crayon and charcoal carried me through. I have definitely drawn more since the pandemic hit. Merging painting and drawing as I switched to mostly working on paper and unstretched canvas since working from home since March 2020. 

These works are all 56x77cm mixed media on some glorious Fabriano Artistico paper I had stashed away long ago and had forgotten about. These paintings were based on medieval genealogical research into my family history. These are strangely still yet to be named and as soon as these five works were completed the thread of this series vanished. Perhaps these will be seen in 2022. 

As I read my blogs from January of last year, I can hear the edges of worry, frustration, and victory as I try to get going again. 

February: 

A small body of work of 8 pieces on paper emerged with the same palette. Again, I remember feeling the pressure to produce but not exactly the drive. The relentless "Insta-productivity" created by social media and business school painters is partially to blame along with internalised capitalism and the real need to pay some bills. This part of things weighed on me more these past few years as I know it has for many of my artist friends and any person trying to make a go of it in this society. However, back to the 8 pieces, I salvaged these out of a large piece of the fancy paper (waste not, want not and all that). They were called the Winter Variations. I was ever thankful when several of them sold.

After more than a year of online meetings, The Abstractionistas collective I am a member of started promoting itself and our work on Facebook and Instagram getting ready for several opportunities that were coming our way, including our debut exhibition together in July. But more on that later. I do a few drawings and have a few messy frustrated mark-making sessions. Sales are slow, I feel stuck in my art so I turn to the outside world and walk in nature.

Winter Variation One

Winter Variation Two
Sold

Winter Variation Three

Winter Variation Four

Winter Variation Five

Winter Variation Six

Winter Variation Seven
Sold

Winter Variation Eight
Sold

March: 

I was very fortunate to have been interviewed by Peter Goodbody for P3DRO, a wonderful music and culture site based in England. A simple interview of 13 questions turned into something much more far-reaching and personal than I expected. I have to say this is one of my most favourite interviews to date. I really enjoyed knowing that it was going to be published on a mostly music-driven site, as music is so important to me and my process. I felt like I could communicate more effusively about the musical connection to my art and be more completely myself- it was a more holistic interview. It all came together so well, it felt like a gift. 

If you missed it the first time: Read it here: https://p3dro.net/2021/03/01/megan-chapman-this-is-our-family-tree-made-of-charcoal-dust/

During this month, I added more prints to my ko-fi shop and promoted them along with my smaller original works. I applied to work as an arts volunteer at the Granton Hub in my community and worked on an accordion book that eventually would be part of the Abstractionistas group exhibition. At the end of the month, I have a computer failure which is a tense and somewhat costly situation. It makes me think even more about my digital use. I am thankful for print sales and somehow I manage to paint 5 more small works on canvas board and thankfully all but one sells. 

From there to here
mixed media on canvas board
5x7"/13x18cm
©2021 Megan Chapman
Available

Ties that bind
mixed media on canvas board
5x7"/13x18cm
©2021 Megan Chapman
Sold

Your wild terrain
mixed media on canvas board
7x5"/18x13cm
©2021 Megan Chapman
Sold

Lay it down
mixed media on canvas board
7x5"/18x13cm
©2021 Megan Chapman
Sold

Thunder and the roar
mixed media on canvas board
5x7"/13x18cm
©2021 Megan Chapman
Sold

April: 

I joined the Granton Hub as a volunteer member of the art subgroup to contribute ideas and help run events in their arts programme. I attended my first meeting and I am very excited about the ethos and happenings at the hub. 

Also this month after the computer debacle I started focussing on my archive and trying to get more of my work organised and all in one place. Thanks to the generosity of my ko-fi supporters and patrons, I was able to buy a 1-year membership to Artwork Archive. I still have a lot of work to do regarding this. If you want to try Artwork Archive, here is a referral link for a $10 credit.  https://www.artworkarchive.com/?ref=6f381a  Besides working on the archive this month, I promoted some older framed works across social media and just tried to stay afloat. 

A wave of inspiration hit me, a new series of works on raw unstretched canvas was born! The series, The Andromeda collection and Superman's ill-fitting belt filled me with delight and hope.

May: 

Life seemed a bit frantic at the start of the month, with emergency dentist and veterinary appointments, voting in my first election (milestone!) and thankfully getting my first vaccination. I did manage some "accidental portrait" sketches. Here's a motley crew of assorted faces. 

 

Later this same month I released even more paintings from various older series as limited and open edition prints through my Ko-fi shop. Bringing you more colourful abstracts, bold and minimal selections from the distillation series (as seen on HBO's True Detective), and even work from my Scottish diaspora series. I focused on creating more ways for you to enjoy and support my work while keeping it affordable. The sale of these prints saw me through the next couple of months. They are still available through my shop. 

June:

Things started to get busy with more real-world exhibition planning than I had been a part of in a good long while and with excitement also came trepidation. I helped as a volunteer at the Granton Hub as they prepared for their big open call exhibition. The Abstractionistas got busy finalising our exhibition plans as well. 

I went back to my studio for a rare visit in June as well. I remember not liking it much after too much time away and for whatever reason, I wrote this after my visit, "the room felt hollow and collapsed. A punishment rather than a prize. A lonely place where no one knows your name and you pay for the privilege." Ouch. However, by the end of the month, things were looking up as I was soon to be participating in not one but two exhibitions in July at the Granton Hub and at St. Margaret's House. 

July: 

All energy went towards promoting, installing, and documenting the exhibitions at the Granton Hub and St. Margaret's House while following all COVID safety protocols and dealing with the associated worries. It was hectic, exciting, stressful and more due to the unusual conditions in which the exhibitions were held. Below are a few quick snaps I took of my two pieces from my BOOKS series that were part of the Granton Hub Exhibition. 

Here are a few photos of the Abstractionistas Exhibition. 

Judith Shaylor, Megan Chapman, Susan Wilson, and Esther Donaldson = Abstractionistas

August:

In August I was asked to send over a collection of 13 paintings on paper, panel, and canvas in a variety of sizes and prices, ranging from £40- £285 to the Front Room Gallery in Helensburgh. You can purchase and enjoy those works in the gallery and online here. I am thankful as ever for another exhibition and sales opportunity. I spent time this month considering my other options, retraining or taking a short course towards becoming an art therapist. A dear friend convinced me otherwise and to invest that time and energy into my work and learning new skills to help with the marketing aspects of my work. I committed to bringing back the Tuesday Studio Video Visits after a bit of hiatus and assorted Facebook hijinx. I got everything organised and put all my art videos (some as far back as 2006) and my various podcasts in one place on YouTube and got enough subscribers to get my own username. Excitement! Thanks to everyone who subscribed - and please do if you haven't. 

Later in August, I was invited to participate in another exhibition coming up in September. The real world seemed to be waking up or just getting on with it... I was happy to be invited to participate in Inception, a weekend exhibition in the gorgeous and storied Dalkeith Palace. At this same time, I am thinking about future series and wishing "I could make 100 broken things and paint over them. I have always wanted to paint on dirty and abused surfaces."

I was invited to become a Ko-fi ambassador, which comes with a lifetime membership. I was delighted to be asked and it is a great platform - join us! Thanks again to all my supporters and patrons. 

September:

At the very start of the month, I write the following - 

"I haven't been painting much lately - mainly because I feel that I have exhausted the home studio capabilities. I am ready to "fuck shit up" with paint and I can't do that in a rented house. Also, I have a perfectly good studio just waiting for me. It's so complicated. The studio costs money, getting to the studio costs money, covid is still out there (public transport). Making art costs money and I have a studio full of completed paintings just waiting to find homes. Art sales have slowed to a stop and it almost feels decadent to paint more things to store, document, and archive. I have been quite down about it. I wrestle with the whole point of this art thing. The market is saturated, everyone's work starts to look the same, and social media can feel like a cornucopia of shite. 

However, regardless of my feelings, opportunities keep showing up and I am prepared for them and this is a good thing. 

Front Room Gallery

Solo Gallery

Dalkeith Palace

This month also saw a visit to the fabulous Bannockburn House as a potential venue for the Abstractionistas collective."

Inception opened Friday, September 10th from 10-6pm and will be open again on Saturday, September 11th and Sunday, September 12th from 10-5pm at the incredible Dalkeith Palace. I had 5 large works on show and then several smaller framed works in their pop up gift shop. It was an incredible venue and setting. I was honoured to be invited to participate. It was good to see and meet many of my fellow artists. 

Inception

After Inception, I returned my attention to my Ko-fi page and the introduction of membership tiers. There are lots of lovely perks over there in exchange for your support. Check them out.

The Abstractionistas regrouped after our exhibition and start making future plans. At the end of the month, I think I pay my studio another visit and create this. Feeling a bit deflated I return to a mark-making practise and keep it simple. 

October: 

The month starts with more Abstractionistas exhibition news! The Abstractionistas in collaboration with GOSSIP Collective and Forth Valley B.A. Students show at the fabulous Bannockburn House. 

In other news from this month, I continued on with my mark-making exercises to help me get out of my rut and return to remembering my foundations. After working on several small paper pieces/exercises, I moved on to six A2 sized papers and spent a bit longer with my marks and actually got to a place I liked. It was a good feeling.

These drawings are A2 size on 200 gsm. heavyweight paper. 

I enjoyed the introduction of my favourite inky pen to the mix, along with Conte crayon, charcoal, oil pastel, white paint and some words. 

This month I also celebrated the 7th anniversary of my living in Scotland along with my 1st anniversary of becoming a citizen!

I must have caught a wave of inspiration after my mark-making exercises and these new works on paper because, after these works, I created a series of 12 small works on canvas, mounted and ready to frame. I showed these along with six works on canvas that were framed at the Bannockburn House exhibition with the Abstractionistas. 

Here are a few photos from the Abstractionistas exhibition at Bannockburn. 

I really enjoyed the Bannockburn exhibition. I felt very comforted by the space and atmosphere. Writing, the house kept us just warm enough as we walked the old wooden floors and looked out through the open doors. I balanced a perfect cup of tea on an old radiator behind the red wingbacked chair in front of the window. Abstract art dotted the walls and furniture. It was a perfect rainy Saturday and a sunny and sweet Sunday would follow. It was a good weekend away from Edinburgh getting to know my fellow Abstractionistas even better. The exhibition was a real victory for me personally. Everywhere you looked around the old house and grounds there were stories of perseverance and hope. An ideal setting to show and share art. 

November: 

I enjoyed returning to my artist mentoring work and was reminded how much I love helping artists in this way. If you are interested in working with me please book an appointment through my ko-fi shop. I love helping other artists in their process. 

I was delighted to have a drawing published in issue #3 of 'Less' a journal on degrowth, radical sufficiency and decolonisation in Scotland, produced by Enough! Scotland. It was a thrill to have my work circulated and available at the COP26 civic hubs in Glasgow and then later nationally across Scotland. This paid publication was a real boost and aligned with my values perfectly as well. 

The drawing above can be seen next to
'Unlearning empire ~ re-membering earth' by Vishwam Heckert

As November continued, I was delighted to be asked to work alongside Amy Britton Scotland in a collaborative pitch. "The Innovation Exchange programme is working alongside Ørsted to help them reach out to potential innovators that might have solutions involving the upcycling of Transition Piece (TP) covers. The TP cover is a robust, watertight cover that protects the internal working space during the construction phase of an offshore wind turbine." 

Our pitch to incorporate this material into Amy's designs and for me to also work on the remnants once fashioned into large sewn together substrates for my abstract paintings, while closing the waste loop for the material, made it to the second round of talks and we then had the opportunity to pitch it via a video conference call. It's not every day that I am on a call with business leaders and from such a different field. It was an exciting experience and I really enjoyed painting test works on this waste material. Here are a couple of my favourite examples. This all came about as a result of the Bannockburn exhibition and social media, proving once again the need to be ready for any opportunity that comes along. 

Samples capturing the wind and sea energy 

By mid-November, it was time for my second annual studio sale and a deep discount of some of my larger canvas paintings spanning several series. I wanted to try out a unique feature of the Artwork Archive program. My sale is ongoing - see it all here: https://www.artworkarchive.com/rooms/megan-chapman/b92e55 I am donating 10% to Bicycles for Refugees from the sales of these works. 

As late November rolled around, I discovered a couple more paper pieces that were finished this year. I got busy signing, dating, titling and varnishing a huge pile of drawings and paintings on paper from 2020 and 2021. 

Way down inside
mixed media on 200gsm acid-free paper
42x59.4cm/16.5x23.4"
©2021 Megan Chapman

I know the way
mixed media on 200gsm acid-free paper
42x59.4cm/16.5x23.4"
©2021 Megan Chapman

December:

I was gearing up to participate in the Christmas Exhibition and Makers Market at the Edinburgh Palette on the 11th and 12th of December. I was to have three paintings on the walls of the gallery in the exhibition and I had loads of works on paper and canvas for the Makers Market along with my fellow Abstractionistas at our stall. 

Omicron was starting to make the scene and I was starting to have my doubts about participating. For the first time ever in over 20 years, I backed out of an arts event. 

Once I decided I felt relieved and I also decided my part of the show could go on, just differently. I updated my online ko-fi shop with everything I was going to show at the art market and added the three pieces on canvas to my online studio sale. I set it all up in my house and documented and promoted it just as I would any other show. I donated 10% to bicycles for refugees and ended up having a fun and productive weekend. Thankful for the understanding of my fellow Abstractionistas, the exhibition curator, and my patrons who supported me online that weekend. 

I mounted these seven small works on paper for the art market - these were from my mark-making series a couple of months prior. Now they are available in my shop. 

And here we are dear readers, patrons, friends, family, peers. This is the last day of December 2021. I started this blog thinking I hadn't done much with my year in art. How wrong I was. I created around 70 finished original works, started numerous other works. Introduced an affordable range of prints. I had an interview published that I adored. I had a piece published (and was paid for it) in a journal I admire. I was part of a collective of artists that I respect and we had two successful featured exhibitions. I had my work in 3 group exhibitions, one of which was in a palace of all places and I volunteered in an arts organisation helping with one exhibition. I mentored an artist whose work amazes me. My work was part of an important collaborative pitch to reduce waste. And I was able to support my favourite charity, Bicycles for Refugees. 

The pandemic is the backdrop. Politics is a constant noise, the earth is in deep trouble and somehow I still think it is important to make art and share it with you. 

Thank you so much for your support, your patronage, your inspiration, encouragement and friendship. This is a hard gig - I doubt what I am doing and the merits of it constantly, you are crucial to the process. Never doubt my appreciation - thank you for the gifts you bring and share with me. 

2022 starts tomorrow. I don't know what to think but here I am and I choose to greet it with compassion for us all and our planet. Wishing you luck, health, and happiness. Take good care. Celebrate, mourn, curse, spit and move through it. I am right beside you. 

Love, 

Megan