I need to find my guts (again)

Consumption

mixed media on canvas, 60 x 70 cm

©2023 Megan Chapman

Fortress building
mixed media on canvas, 60 x 92 cm
©2023 Megan Chapman

I feel like a combination of these two paintings from 2023. I need to find my guts. I need to get my arse back in the deep end.

Thank you, Brian for seeing, believing, and championing my work. Your kindness after our art paths crossed soon after I moved to Scotland will never be forgotten.

Rest in power.

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.

A rhythm that I can fall into

work in progress

Scotland is a strange embrace. It is a sure road under my feet, even with its many curious twists and turns. It is a home I have always known and longed for, yet it sits slightly askew. The gratitude I feel for this land is enormous, and the personification of it is easily done. My body senses familiarity at every turn.

There is a safety here for me, a social contract understood: foundational. Even with all its problems and self-doubts, it provides a known beat, a rhythm that I can fall into.

It catches me off guard with its lull of consistency. If one has never felt such ground, it's easy to downplay. It runs at a humane pace and is a place of workers, history, and darkness. Its greatness is not boastful, bright, or new.

Scotland is a strange embrace.

___________________

Until next week, take care and keep fighting. Thank you for being on this path with me.  And if you like a spot of David Bowie, punk rock, and dream pop here's a playlist for you.

Algorithms be damned

dark interiors

Dear Readers,

It's another cold but bright start to the day. The coffee is hot, and the fake fire hums. This past week was fairly quiet, but the theme of connection buzzed throughout.

After I posted my blog last Friday, I walked over to see my talented pals Fiona Thompson and Chris Donnelly of Cyan Clayworks. Their studio is warm, bright, and inviting - just like them. Their pal, Craig Peebles, was also visiting. Craig is the founder of Welby & Wright, an encaustic tile maker, master tiler, and artist. It was lovely to be welcomed into the fold with mince pies, tea, laughs, and art chat on a Friday afternoon. I even left with a flock of Chris' wee chickens and plan to go back later today for one or two more in yellow!

If you are local to Leith/Edinburgh or passing through, make plans to visit Fiona and Chris, as well as the many other talented artists and creative businesses taking part in the upcoming Leith Creative Trail.

After chatting with all of them, I stopped by Malt & Hops (est. 1747) to enjoy their coal fire and have a non-alcoholic beer. I've always loved this pub; the warm, dark interior feels like an embrace.

The weekend consisted of a bit of charity shopping, painting, and reconnecting with my fellow artists and patrons online. I managed to share two posts on Instagram and Facebook; somehow, I hadn’t posted to my Instagram grid since 23 June.

In case you missed it, here's what I wrote and posted.

Photo from a dear patron showing one of my paintings in their home in Holland.

"Hello, my dear and wild friends - I hope this finds you. I’ve been thinking about this space and how I use it. I miss how we used to connect, but I also loathe the platform - and the algorithm can fuck off. I haven’t been making “content” lately, and I’m trying to find a way back to you, grounded in our shared care. Maybe this is a start: if you see this, could you drop a comment or an emoji? Thank you for your years of support for my painting." 

It was wonderful to hear from so many folks - with a total of 153 emojis and approximately 67 comments between the platforms. I really needed that sense of connection to remind me of the importance of community building in my art practice.

I posted this as a follow-up. 

Photo from a lovely patron showing one of my paintings in their home in England

"Thank you for your kind, encouraging comments on my recent post. It was wonderful to reconnect with so many of you, from early supporters to more recent friends. It truly means the world. Your support keeps me painting through storms and opportunities alike.

These days, I'm taking a slower, more intentional approach - algorithms be damned. I'm still here, making work in fits and starts, and I can't wait to share it with you."

And again, I was met with a sense of community. 89 emojis and 7 comments across the two platforms. If you commented or reacted to the posts this week, thanks again. It's not about numbers; it's about connection, and it gave me a needed boost and a reminder to reach out.

Due to my postings, I was also contacted by and learned about a new community arts space in Glasgow called MoMo. According to the organiser, they are a small space in an area of Glasgow not normally associated with art, and they are attempting to find a community of folks who not only love art but also want to participate. I can appreciate that ethos and understand that it can be more difficult to start something like this off the beaten path. So if this sounds up your street, give MoMo a follow on social media, and if you are in Glasgow, pop by for a coffee and some art to support their mission.

Also, thanks to my post, I had a lovely Zoom catch-up with my friend and fellow artist Muriel Prince. Muriel lives and works in the Scottish Borders. It was great to talk "artist to artist" about life, work, and cats. Muriel's "draw walk" technique is fascinating, and her works are richly layered with meaning and feeling. It was great to reconnect.

Otherwise, it was a normal week: working, watching films and shows, keeping in touch with loved ones, and watching more Stewart Copeland interviews.

As I mentioned above, I painted, but I wasn't thrilled with the results. Dark and brooding - but not fully realised, so I won't share it just yet. Painting something is better than painting nothing, and reconnecting with my fellow artists, patrons, and the wider community is an important step in the right direction.

I am not sure what this weekend holds. I will probably attempt another social media post. There will be a painting session on Sunday, and big thoughts and ideas rattling around my brain. Some will be actualised, and most won't, and that is all just part of the process.

I will wrap up warm in my new charity shop jumper, get outside and see what the big city has to offer and go get my chickens!

Thanks for being part of my community. We really are in this together. I hope you have a warm and relaxed weekend. Keep fighting.

Return to that important ritual

It's starting to look a lot like autumn

Hello Dear Readers.

The magic google switch must have been toggled off on my blog the last few weeks as my numbers have plummeted and from such great heights. Oh well, I never quite believed them anyway. If you missed last week's post, I shared a fair amount of art - you can see it here. 

The viruses have finally left me and I managed to get out for a few daily walks this past week after not being able to, due to injury and illness. Now the migraines have decided it is their time to shine, so for the past two days I have been dealing with crazy auras, pain, light sensitivity, and muscle spasms. My sleep has been pretty horrible too. I am fed up and feel like crying more often than I'd like. 

My blog has turned into that call you have with your ageing relatives or friends and all they do is tell you about their aches, pains, and various ailments. Tis the season. 

yellow leaves on cobbles

It can't be all bad and it really isn't. The walks in the yellow leaves were enjoyable, and it felt good to return to that important ritual. Two of my other routines that I enjoy that didn't happen for the past two weeks, returned this week - so that was good too. 

I managed to work on two more canvases during the regular "Sunday Sessions" that my mom and I continue to share. I lay the ground work so that they can be finished off this week perhaps. The series continues to build and I am glad of that. 

New work in progress

I also attended an online talk and I returned to an online group that I missed last week as well. And I tried something new that I enjoyed. All of those activities were supportive and helpful. So if it hadn't been for the migraines, this would have been a pretty good "rebuilding" sort of week. 

I watched a great documentary, a show I enjoy, and started rereading one of my favourite series of books as a comfort - all while working, connecting with friends and family and doing all the other tedious things that adults must do. I will consider this week a success, even with the dumb migraines. 

Edinburgh Central Library Board Room Window

Yesterday, I met up with most of the SAU staff team along with our new president, Tamara Rogovic for an in person meeting at the Edinburgh Central Library. I feel very fortunate to work with the fine folks at the union - we are a small and hard working team. It was a productive meeting and so good to spend time with each other again - as it is such a rarity since we all work remotely. 

Are you a member of the Scottish Artists Union? Membership has numerous benefits and it's the members that make the union what it is and what it can be! Join us!

Jenni's October 2025 design on the wall behind the envelope containing the 2026 edition! 

To round out the week, when I got home from the meeting, there was sunshine in an envelope waiting for me! The 2026 Jenni Douglas Calendar has arrived! I am not a fan of the years zipping by, but if they have to - I am going to mark it with Jenni's gorgeous and colourful designs. This year she has two calendar designs to choose from - Scots Creatures or Art. You can get one for yourself here.

That's all I have for you this week. I hope you are doing okay. Thanks for being here. When I sat down to write this, I wasn't feeling too great in my body, mind, or spirit. However, writing this has given me some much needed clarity. There was a lot of good this week, even with the pain and frustration.

Ever onward with grace, acceptance, plenty of rest, and deep breaths. 

Please keep fighting - we need you, and we need each other. You are part of the good. 

I hear the earth turning

Studio still life: Vase by Chris Donnelly Ceramics 
Next to a card featuring a print of West Highland Landscape by Barbara Rae. 

I woke with a start at 4 A.M. after having a waking dream about my job.

At 6 A.M. I am drinking a strong matcha and listening to one song on repeat on my big headphones with my windows open. I have sat down in my favourite chair to write this. If you missed last week's post you can find it here.

This week went quickly.

There was a bit of local charity shopping, new matcha and the associated accoutrements arrived in the post, the crocosmia lucifer flashed red in the garden along with the geranium. 

I met my pal Julia for a spontaneous wander on Sunday to the City Art Centre to enjoy Out of Chaos: Post-War Scottish Art 1945-2000. The exhibition didn't disappoint with several personal favourites. West Highland Landscape by Barbara Rae stole the show and practically vibrated off the orange wall it was placed on. It is probably my most favourite painting by Rae that I have seen so far. It was a perfect study in composition, colour, and expression. Both my pal and I left the exhibition with a printed version of the painting on a card from the giftshop. Prints don't do this work justice though, so if you are able please go see it yourself. No photos were allowed of the exhibition or I would have shared some here, so again, go see it. 

Next we wandered through the city centre and I introduced Julia to the work of Michael McVeigh the artist who I had met the week before. It was good to chat with him again while enjoying his work. 

Afterwards, we enjoyed our supermarket lunch on a park bench in Princes Street Gardens and happened upon the vibrant sounds and colours of the Edinburgh Festival Carnival. We then moved on to the RSA for the Paul Furneaux exhibition, 旅路 | Tabiji - Journey (with wonderment) It is a gorgeous, jewel-like exhibition. 

It was a lovely and spontaneous Sunday, filled with all the best parts of living in this city and enjoying it all with a good friend.

Later that evening, I worked on another small painting. I have returned to the inspiration from a series I began in 2004 or so. I will write more about this in a future post. 

I hear the earth turning 15x15cm/ 5.9x5.9” mixed media on canvas 2025 Megan Chapman
£45 & free UK 2nd class shipping

Then on Monday it was back into the city centre for a different kind of art. My pal Anthea and I met up for a gorgeous fancy vegan/vegetarian lunch at David Bann, a gift I had received from my oldest brother for Christmas. We both dressed in bright saturated colours by chance and pretty much laughed the whole time - we played the part of ladies who lunch but with an edge, expertly. It was great fun and the decadent food was a rare treat that I was delighted to be able to share. By the way, I met my pal, Anthea in March at a movie screening - just two folks who crossed paths around a shared interest and then became fast friends. As I noted in my post last week, it's good to talk to strangers! 

Selections from the set lunch menu at David Bann
Thanks again, to my brother Ben for this lovely gift

Then it was back to life, back to reality, and back to work and here we are at the weekend once again. I plan to rest, talk to family and friends, sit in the garden, and paint.

Every day we reach out, set boundaries, and take care to express ourselves through art and action (however we are able - quietly or loud) is a victory.

Thank you for being here. Keep fighting!

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.

My heart lives in two places

What a difference a few days make. 

I have on my cosy jumper while sitting under a blanket with the lamps turned on. It will be dark within 30 minutes. This can only mean one thing... I am back in bonny Scotland sitting in my flat. The window is speckled with rain drops. I do have my big headphones on though just like the last time I wrote, but the music has changed. I decided to listen to an old favourite on repeat. 

Thanks to everyone who read my last three blog posts written in Arkansas. If you missed them the first time here they are again. 

October 11th https://meganchapman.blogspot.com/2024/10/the-true-liminal-space-and-comfort-of.html

October 18th https://meganchapman.blogspot.com/2024/10/i-see-you-you-see-me-we-are-here.html

October 25th https://meganchapman.blogspot.com/2024/10/i-am-of-leaves-i-am-of-trees-i-am-of.html

Let's pick up where we left off, in the last few days I was with my parents, I did various projects around their house, enjoyed the sun and warmth as much as I could, did a bit of work, and ran some errands and just spent time with them. On Sunday, a dear family friend came to visit us with some lovely baked goods - we caught up on the weirdness of life around the table. Later that day, my mother and I enjoyed Fiber Fest down the road at Ozark Folkways. Again, I spontaneously ran into a couple of people I knew there and it was a delight.

On Monday, we took family photos against the orange backdrop of the maples and I said a tearful goodbye to my dad before I took my mom to an appointment in town. Afterwards we ran some errands together, where I ran into yet another person I was happy to see for a quick catch up over a shopping cart.

Afterwards, my mom and I had a mediocre but funny lunch, saw another dear friend for a bonus spontaneous visit, ran another errand, and then I was dropped off where I started, at the old house in town. I hugged my mother goodbye and she was on her way back to Winslow.

I organised my belongings, and then took my dear friend out for a delicious dinner at one of my favourite old spots - Thep Thai (it's still good Barbara - get the Pad Kee Mao with Tofu #35). On the way back I asked my pal to stop so I could take a photo of a dreamy Cadillac at dusk in the parking lot of the old muffler shop. Magic!

Once again at the old house, I just had a bit more organising to do before it was off to sleep. The next day would see the long journey back to Scotland that would start Tuesday morning Arkansas time and end Wednesday morning in Edinburgh. Three planes back and this time no missed connections. I even had time to enjoy the Prince store in Minneapolis - I saw one of his guitars and his hand written song notes. I was quite the fan back in the day and if you recall 1999 was mentioned in the blog post prior to this one, so again - there are no accidents.

After sitting next to a MAGA bro with some weird ideas on the first flight, I was rewarded on the next two with no one sitting next to me. On the overnight airbus, I was sat on the aisle at the end of a row of four, in the middle of the plane. The dutchman at the other end and I shared air high fives as no one was seated in the two middle seats between us. Yes! I love these spontaneous joyful interactions with strangers. I settled in and ate more delicious KLM food while watching a film, listening to music, and sleeping. Smooth as vegan butter. 

Later, I watched from the window on the last flight as Edinburgh came into view - a calm joy washed over me. I love making that bank over the Firth of Forth. I eased through the border with my U.K. passport, picked up my bag, and ordered a chai. Thanks to the insistence of my parents, I got a taxi back home. 

I enjoyed the banter with the taxi driver as we drove in the sideways morning light. Once dropped off, I rolled my suitcase into my garden and heard the familiar wail of the stray cat (wee bear as he is now known) that I have been feeding for over a year. All was well. My pals had been looking after him while I was away (thanks Alice, Ever, and Eleanor - it takes a village to feed a stray cat). Besides the hungry cat, fresh flowers greeted me along with a card once inside. My people are the best people. 

It was all still here. My heart lives in two places. 

I took a nap, a shower, a walk to visit my Scottish friend tree, and then I jumped into work meetings and again all was well. 

I dedicate this post and the previous three travel posts again to my communities near and far and to all the people who make this world a beautiful and kind place. Thank you. 

Oh, and to music - I dedicate most things to music! 

The album I listened to while flying

The true liminal space and the comfort of art

I left my flat in Scotland at 3 am on Tuesday morning for a 6 am flight to Amsterdam, onward to Minneapolis, and then finally to Arkansas. I was due to arrive in Arkansas at 4:25 on Tuesday afternoon. KLM/Delta was in charge of the flying. All I had to do was eat super tasty vegan food, listen to music, and watch a documentary on Rita Moreno. My other task was to glide through the airports - the true liminal space. 

Once I arrived at Schiphol, I knew I wanted to find the Rijks museum in the airport and so I did. A wee calm oasis awaited me. No more racing people, no loud calls from the speakers above, no hustle and bustle, just art in a dark space. A pause for beauty - inspiring and restorative. A quick breakfast salad and then on to my gate bound for Minneapolis. The flight was delayed by well over an hour and I knew that it would make my last connection close to impossible but I wasn't worried. 

I sat next to a lovely couple from Minnesota on the long flight, we made conversation and took cat naps as we flew like birds. I got a message from the airline app in the middle of the flight to say that they were sorry for the delay and I would be put on a new flight the following morning.

I decided I would be spending the night in the airport and I was okay with it. However, once I landed on the ground and made it through customs and immigration, there seemed like a chance I could make the final connection. I rechecked my luggage and ran through the entire airport. It was 30 degrees warmer in Minnesota that what I am used to and even though the air conditioning was in full effect, the passive solar heat from the huge windows was roasting me as I ran in an attempt to hold the plane. I almost made it but they had stopped boarding and shut the door. I slid down a wall to catch my breath and to rest while. I would be on that next flight tomorrow morning just as the app predicted. 

I spent from 2:30 that afternoon until 8:30 the next morning getting to know the MSP airport. Some chats with friends and family followed and an overpriced dinner was purchased. A couple of 20 minute massages from the robot chairs soothed the spasm in my trap caused by running with my heavy bags.

I found my accommodation for the night within a public art space video installation. This made me laugh as well as feel safe and completely in my element.

Art saves. I trust art, we are friends.

I would "sleep" to the repeating video compilation of artists talking about their varied practices. This was perfect. I had a spot off the main concourse with plug points to charge everything, free WiFi, and even a vending machine with cacao nib vegan chia pudding, that was cold and delightful at 2 in the morning. As the artists repeatedly talked to me about their passions, I would sleep for 2 hours at a time. I meditated and did yoga when sleep eluded me. I washed my hair in the bathroom sink and refreshed myself for the morning flight ahead. I sort of love being put in these types of situations. I am a worrier and over-thinker, but when things go awry, I can get pretty clear about what I need and how to make the best of it. So that's what I did. It's good to be reminded of this trait. 

I arrived at my gate at 5 am for a departing flight at 8:55 am. I greeted the woman who had turned me away from the gate the day before. A cheerful good morning was shared and I told her I was going to be on that plane. We shared a laugh and she said "Yes, you are, and I am moving you up to comfort plus - you will be on that plane." All was well. I chatted with a stranger about the upcoming election and then it was time to fly. 

A quick hop later and I was on the ground in Arkansas. A dear friend picked me up from the ever expanding XNA regional airport. My bag had arrived the night before on the plane (that I really could have been on) but I was just glad it was all there. Hot dry air hit me as I rolled my suitcase to her car. I am back in Arkansas - for the first time since my last visit had me flying out in January 2018.

We arrived at her house, which is the same house I left back in 2014 to move to Scotland. I hugged "my friend tree" (that's it's proper name) and said hello to my beloved cats Rufus and Evie's graves. I am home - it all still exists. 

Jet lagged but content, I listen to the bugs in the trees at night, look to the sky, amazed by the stars, and the sweet freight train calls out in the night. 

 I am home. I am home. I am home...

I dedicate this post to my community, my friends, my co-workers at the Scottish Artists Union, and everyone who has had a kind and supportive word. I wasn't travelling alone, you were all there with me. Thank you. 

Just like a ghost walking in place

 

Music.

Keep fighting.

This is where all the stories start

10 years ago this week I arrived in Scotland to make it my home. There is so much I want to say about it, that it overwhelms me. So this week, I will just share some new art and say thank you to the trees, the flowers, the gardens, the birds, the paths, the wind, the hills, the sea, the music, the art, the cobblestones and old buildings and to all people who have loved, cared for, and supported me during this time. Those that are still here and those that are somewhere else. Thank you also to my dearest, Theo. 

Thank you. 

10 years can be celebrated this week, next week, and even all year. 

I love you, Scotland and I celebrate you every damn day. 

More soon. Keep Fighting.