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.

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. 

Joy is resistance

You know what's cool? Walking down a road you've never been on with your pal, then standing with your backs against a wall in the winter sun. I’ve done this twice lately and highly recommend it. If you joke that you both look like members of an '80s band and share a laugh, it’s even better.

Julia and I have been roaming the streets again, seeing art, and sitting in coffee shops. We have already seen some great exhibitions this year. This is normally where I would tell you all about them but I cannae be arsed. Go out and see some art wherever you live. 

I will show you one of my new works in progress. I decided to pop it into a frame just to see how it would feel in one, and it seemed to agree with it. I like my frames like I like my art, a bit dirty and damaged. 

In other news, I have been reading books, organising, working, meditating, baking, and learning new ways of being. It's a good way to stay sane when everything is awful and gross. I am also taking action, voting, calling, signing, and joining. Community, community, community - that's where it's at. I hope you are being supported by your community. I hope you are supporting your community. 

Stay free, be well, and stand against walls in the sun. 

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.

A meditative pause

Glitter disco monarch of the glen with added buddha

How in the world is it already Friday again? Sorry, these types of pronouncements are about as dull as talking about the weather.

I have been awake for ages in the dark so I figured I might as well type a few words. I am still not ready to share what I have been up to on the art front. Maybe I will feel inclined to share this on boxing day (which will be the next time I write here). 

I also can't believe that we are less than a week away from Christmas. I put out a few decorations but nothing major - I've been too preoccupied with my job and my behind the scenes art vibes. Let's just say I have been working hard. Thankfully, I have had some welcomed help from my pal Julia (it's not a blog if my talented friend isn't in the mix these days).

 

all that glitters

At this point in my life, Christmas serves as a meditative pause. I am looking forward to time off work, time to reflect, to watch films, eat good food, catch up with some friends and go for walks. Time to settle into some new patterns and create future pathways. Ooh, and time for genealogy too! Now, I'm excited!

Whatever you get up to during the festive season, I hope you have moments of peace and security. It's been one hell of a year for a lot of us, so take it easy and don't forget to honour your needs (this is a reminder to myself). And remember too, it's almost Solstice - the light will be making its slow return back to us!

Wishing you a joyous season. Thank you for sharing some of your precious time with me. We need you and the gifts you bring. Keep fighting and shining.

Tend to the small fires

Awake in the dark, the screen illuminates my fingers as a cup of coffee balances on the arm of the sofa. Flames of dancing light from my electric fire pretend to lap the air. Kodomotachi by Susumu Yokota plays on my big headphones.

It's Friday morning; the work week is behind me once again. This is a strange way for me to think about time. When one is self-employed (as I have been for much of my life), the work week is never behind you. Time has been bending in on itself, forward and then back. I am somewhere in between - my dreams vivid, the subconscious hard at work.

I didn't "make art" this past Sunday but I reflected on it and discussed these thoughts with my mother. We felt that this counted as a "sunday session." I hope to return to making art this weekend.

Last Sunday, I attended a cultural event, which is perhaps even better than making art, due to the energy exchange that comes from being around like-minded people with a singular focus. 

I was fortunate to see Stewart Copeland (the brilliant drummer of The Police and a gifted composer) speak about his life and work at The Queen's Hall. He was always my favourite member of the band. I still vividly recall the pride I felt as I wore my new Ghost in the Machine Tour t-shirt (a gift from my brothers who had actually seen the tour) to elementary school when I was barely ten. Years later, I wore that same shirt to a Black Flag show in 1986; at fourteen, though, I remember feeling pretty square in it. Needless to say, I left that gig wearing a different band's name. 

Anyway, I loved The Police, and Stewart Copeland was the best, so seeing him tell his stories about it all was a delight. Beyond his obvious talents, he is funny, irreverent, whip smart, and is an expert storyteller. Laughing at his antics as part of an audience of his admirers felt good and warm. 

On Monday, I met up with my good pal, Ever Dundas for a return visit to the secret garden in the city centre. With our hot chocolates, we enjoyed talking about all things music while sitting in the garden on a bench in the sun. It was a lovely outing. Music and friends make the world go round. 

Before I met up with Ever, I popped into Edinburgh Central Library to visit the Art & Design Library housed upstairs. I was short on time, but it was good to peruse a few art books and to just see what they had on offer.

Tuesday was a grey day of rain and remembrance, tears, and smiles.

Wednesday and Thursday were filled with work and meetings, and now here we are.
I am not sure what this weekend and week ahead holds. 

I'll leave you with my cheeky visage just to show off my latest charity shop acquisition (the necklace) because I love it and finding such treasures brings me joy. And we can all use a bit more of that.

Thank you for spending some of your precious time with me. Until next week, keep fighting for good, take care, and stay warm.

Fire on the hills of yesterday

Reserving my words.

Until next week, take care. 

Two steps forward (six steps back)

neighbourhood feverfew

Hello Dear Readers,

This past week was hard for a variety of reasons.However, last Sunday provided a bright spot - I had the chance to spend some time with my pal, Annie. We went to Söderberg near the meadows where I was treated to two cups of wonderful matcha and a vegan fruit and nut bar. Everything was lovely, we split our time between the outdoor seating with its collegiate vibes and the minimalist cafe's natural light filled interior. We had some laughs, took some photos, and had a right old blether.

I returned to my home to participate in a new ritual. For the last three Sundays, my mother and I have been holding each other accountable and focussing on making art. To quote Martha Stewart, "It's a good thing." Speaking of, I happened to watch a documentary this week on Martha that was strangely soothing.

On my side of the Atlantic, I worked on a small canvas painting while my mother worked on finishing up an abstracted mythical bird sculpture. My painting didn't quite come together as in previous weeks, but something showed up and that is good enough. I am glad my mother and I can encourage each other from a distance.

fire on the hills of yesterday

15x15cm/ 5.9x5.9” mixed media on canvas 2025 Megan Chapman

£45 & free UK 2nd class shipping

Besides painting, I managed a bit of genealogy. Genealogy is usually my rainy, dark season hobby so researching family ghosts in the summer is a solace seeking measure. I even went to the local library to access their database - mostly just for the change of scenery. My mother has been telling me some poetic stories about the family so it's at the forefront of my mind. I imagine these stories will be explored in a new series at some point.

This week also consisted of meetings, work, some classic avoidance techniques, frustration, tears, and strange dreams. A rare Chinese meal was ordered and delivered and an online community was joined and then promptly quit. A podcast was listened to and shared, and there was a tram journey into the city centre where I took a tourist photo of the castle on the rock watching over us all. At home she feels like a tourist.

A sadness seems to sit in my bones so careworn.
And tomorrow Scotland takes to the streets.
Keep fighting.

Time folds in on itself

Co-Star Mic Drop 

I am having frequent migraines, I am working more hours than usual, and there is still never enough time to get things done. My life's work is largely ignored and my anxiety grows. I am avoiding the news because I can't think about war.

Time folds in on itself - how did we all get so old. 

I slept until my alarm chimed bird sounds at 7am. This is a rare occurrence.

My dreams were wild but not memorable, only the feeling and flashes of colour left behind. This is my weekend now, time to recover and regroup but I already feel the weight of obligation and the plans I made for myself. 

I am tired and on shaky ground, yet I will it solid. As I type these dour words I think, what a bummer of an intro, surely this can't stand. I will delete and share the beauty and lightness that I also found this week. Because I can always find it.

If resilience is a curse, I have been hexed. 

Remember too, this place is a creative exercise. Perhaps the only creativity I will experience in the week. I like putting words together. 

The words are partly crafted from the music playing in my big headphones, Marconi Union, Brian Eno, Hammock, Nils Frahm - icy and atmospheric on a warm June morning. Music for introspection - like I need any encouragement. 

I want to write, I think you are beautiful. But who am I thinking of, I do not know. 

I think you are beautiful. 

I walked. I watched a show everyone is talking about. I listened to an audiobook. I have sat in the garden in the sun, knee deep in buttercups and daisies, punctuated by poppies and foxgloves. I am going to see live music on Sunday and Monday. I have talked to friends - human and the furry kind and I have harvested fresh spinach.

I have made good food and healthy drinks, enjoyed naps, yoga and breathing exercises. See what I am doing? I can't help it. 

If resilience is a curse, I have been hexed. 

Susumu Yokota comes on my headphones - glorious. I was trying to be reminded of this album. There are no accidents. 

and I still think you are beautiful.

This is the best costume for the day

£2 well spent looks like this

After last week's newtongrange moment, I spent the weekend doing nothing much at all. I met a pal at the local car boot sale on Sunday and found some perfect antique teaspoons (I have a thing for old silverplate - I mean a real thing - I have said in the past if I ever got a tattoo it would be of an old fork or spoon and maybe a rickety chair). Anyway, I took it pretty easy as I was still recovering from the after effects of the previous week's migraines. 

I could feel the edge of frustration creeping up as my newest routines had been slightly derailed by the headaches. It was a busy week at work, but I did manage some creative time - just a few moments of weirdness but it's good for the soul. 

It was one of those frustrating moments, where the day had been fine but dull and that edge was creeping up. All of the sudden I was in the bathroom putting on red lipstick like Robert Smith - you know, not inline with my lips - too much product and a bit deranged like an old hollywood meltdown. It's nice to do things "wrong" especially if you are always trying to get it right. I then filled in my eyebrows - the way they were before I mistakenly plucked them in my 30s for the first time. I haven't done a thing to them since 2018 but they don't grow back the same after you've fucked with them, so they are spare in parts. I back combed my short hair like I did in hair school and put on a headband. It's really good to do something slightly out of character and just for the hell of it. I thought about all the times I don't do this. I mean this was standard fare in junior high and high school for me, but then that became a costume like any other, so eventually I stopped with it all. 

"Just getting through life" can make for a pretty boring but necessary costume. So it was nice to have a bit of a play. Play is a forgotten art for adults - think about the way we dress, the face we put on - often so ordinary. I wear "this" but not "that." I couldn't possibly make a change now because this is "me" and that is not. 

Anyway, I guess I was having a very mild Cindy Sherman moment so I decided to take some snaps (the adult voice says how vain, how 2009, and what is the point of all of this). The child says, because I am here, I exist, and it's fun. So I did, and the child was happy. 

With action comes power (or at least a change in perspective or a break from inertia). 

Daily Life Costume

A bit extra for dull days

Photographic expansion 

Double exposure 

Living my best life in multiple exposures

In street finding news, a fully functional bicycle in great condition was put in my path this week.Thank you to the generous soul who clearly marked it, "free and it works!" before abandoning it in the alley. I went for a ride after I got off work yesterday and again, the child was happy. 

It's okay to play when the world is on fire.

Until next week, you know what to do...

PS. Thanks to everyone who makes this blog what it is. I am so glad to be back.

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.

Waiting (again)

I am back dating these posts more often than I like and the tuesday studio video visits fell by the wayside long ago. I didn't even try to sell you anything this year. 

I am letting it all slide and fall away as my energy is spent on living and laying down the first two bricks of the foundation in the hierarchy of needs. Again. 

I had a good dream last night, one of the special - true to life, lucid dreams, filled with symbolism and allure. I made a great cup of coffee this morning and I sang a made up song at the kitchen counter while looking up at the skeleton trees. 

Not bad at all. 

I completed some chores and I thought about ancient times. I listened to a familiar voice with his vulnerability vibrating down the line - a character actor singing about nothing. Perfectly. 

I meditated. 

I don't mind waiting.

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. 

Make sure that you are sure

Well, hell. 

I am tired. 

But I can feel the edge of inspiration in the sun and the wind. 

I came across some art I created a while back when I was cleaning up my computer files. It reminded me of something that I am probably missing. 

I am also listening to a song that pulled me towards something too. 

Something = painting and that particular restless energy tempting me to come back after too long away. 

And then of course I took myself out to see Stop Making Sense on Saturday which was invigorating, to say the least. (And a whole lot of something)

I also took myself out to a demonstration against funding cuts to the arts that ended with a coffee in a secret garden with a colleague/new friend.

Then I joined a renters union. So this week has been a bit intense. 

Culture. Social action. New friends. Important conversations. Work.

To balance all this out, I made "the good" vegetable soup, enjoyed a couple of breakfasts that included spinach and mushrooms and walked in different neighbourhoods. I also bought a Vogue magazine. A magazine! What a luxury in the days of screens - especially one that is filled with wearable art and such weirdness. 

The sun is shining. Soon, I will head to the studio for the weekly meeting of the studio mates there. We will see what ideas we can hatch. 

Take care until next week and keep fighting. The world needs you and the gifts you bring.

Autumn is for dancing

A Closer Look: September 2023

Well hello, my beautiful readers,

It's Friday and I have had two cups of coffee and the sky is featureless and grey. I am listening to a fantastic old song on repeat (but of course). Later, I will walk over to the studio and hang out with my fellow artists in our exhibition, A Closer Look. You will know from previous blogs and social media posts that our show is ending on Saturday the 23rd at 5 p.m. So if you are a local reading this and even thinking about how you might like to see it in person - just get up and go (my blog can wait).

Oh, Autumn, I am mostly enjoying your rain, wind, grey, your dappled light through leaves still green but also turning yellow and falling. I am still jazzed about your autumn energy and of course the return to my beloved real coffee. It just tastes better in the fall.

I am not painting right now but I am working, learning, and dancing. Loads of dancing to the fantastic old songs. 

Autumn is for returning to our homes within.

I dreamt of a painting last night, a new painting that I might paint. A whole idea for a series in a dream. I love that when it happens - it is a rare gift.

So on that note, I will share one more promo video of the exhibition and get ready to go. Thank you for being here and for your support. Keep fighting.

The tea tastes good

Where my soul roams
Mixed media on canvas
24x24x2cm (framed)
Megan Chapman
£325
Purchase

How can it already be the 18th of August? I lost a good 3 weeks to Covid and now the rebuilding begins. As autumn approaches new ideas come forward - I always feel like the beginning of this season is more instrumental in creating new ways of being than the new year. A holdover from "back to school" days I am sure. I want to learn, I want to grow, I want to change in the autumn - I bought a pack of new pens and I cut my hair. I have a homemade calendar page on the fridge. I am ready.

I watch good films, I read good books, I discover new music. I watch for the first leaves to fall and note the shift in the light. I make plans for the darker days on the way. 

I work, I engage, I participate and help. I plant something silver and sculptural. I make friends and I rediscover my love of photography. The tea tastes good. I am alive. 

Small gestures
Mixed media on canvas
24x24x2cm (framed)
Megan Chapman
£325 
Purchase

It's No Game

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