By 2016, painting had become more than just a hobby - it was a passion that had fully taken root in my life. But despite everything I’d learned and created, part of me still doubted whether I was really good enough to call myself an artist.
That’s when Carla encouraged me to do something bold: apply for Sky Arts Landscape Artist of the Year.
Taking a Leap - Sky Arts Landscape Artist of the Year
I’d done very little plein air painting at that point - painting outdoors and in front of people. I’d always painted in solitude, where it was just me, the canvas, and my music. The thought of being surrounded by cameras, judges, and crowds was daunting, but I applied anyway.
I didn’t make it as one of the featured “pod painters” - the main contestants - but I was invited to take part as a wildcard artist. I chose my heat location - Wray Castle in the Lake District - booked my accommodation, packed my gear, and set off, nervous but excited.
The Day That Changed Everything
When I arrived, we had a briefing with the producers, and before I knew it, the clock started - four hours to complete my work. But there was a hitch - while we travelled by boat from Ambleside, my painting equipment came by van and took longer to arrive. By the time I set up, some artists already looked like they had finished a painting and had moved onto a second.
It was overwhelming - I felt like I was starting miles behind everyone else. But then something happened that I’ll never forget.
Tai-Shan Schierenberg, one of the judges, the only judge that was an artist, walked straight over to me as I was laying down my first wash. He spotted my Michael Harding oils and turps and immediately asked,
“Are you classically trained?”
I told him I was self-taught - and instead of moving on, we chatted about my process and how I planned to tackle the scene. That small exchange gave me my first real moment of validation as an artist.
Later, I was interviewed by the producers, with a huge TV camera practically over my shoulder as I painted, trying to hide my shaking hand. That was my second validation - knowing I could paint under pressure and hold my own.
No pressure! Me under the watchful eye of the camera man
Finally, when the public came through to watch the wildcard artists at work, a few people stopped by my easel and told me my painting was their favourite and that it captured the scene the most realistically. That was the third validation I didn’t even know I’d been searching for.
The Near-Miss That Was Enough
When it came time for the judges to pick the wildcard winner, they made their way slowly through the crowd. At one point, they were walking straight towards me, and I thought: “This is it...”
They stopped just beside me and chose the artist next to me instead.
And you know what? I wasn’t disappointed. I didn’t need to win. That day gave me exactly what I came for - confidence. It showed me that I belonged among other artists, even without formal training.
Making the Leap
After Landscape Artist of the Year, I threw myself into painting with even more determination. But my full-time job in web design demanded long hours, and gradually, painting began slipping into the background again. The difference now was that I felt its absence deeply.
Without painting, my anxiety at work started to build. For years, I’d used art as a form of mindfulness, a way to quiet my thoughts and reset my mind - and without it, something was missing.
It got to a point I needed to make a choice about my career as I couldn't go on the way I was. It involved taking a risk and making art the centre of my life. I felt if I didn't do it now I never would, life is too short.
Evolving My Style
Going full time gave me the freedom to experiment, grow, and evolve as an artist. I started incorporating more expressive brushwork and abstract qualities into my landscapes, playing with colour and texture in ways I’d never tried before. I had previously tried to be a purely representational artist, painting what was in front of me, but now I wanted to push that feeling of the scene being a memory.
One of the biggest changes came when I discovered Cold Wax Medium. I had a small tub of it from a Gamblin sample kit I ordered years before, and it took a bit of experimenting with it to get used to it. Eventually after watching how other artists used it online I saw opportunity to add it to my own personal repertoire of techniques. The layered textures and depth it allowed completely transformed my process, giving my work a tactile quality that invited people to not just see the painting, but feel it.
Still, at its heart, my art remains rooted in the same thing it always has been:
my love for Scottish landscapes - the rugged coastlines, wild seas, beautiful sunsets and constantly changing skies that have inspired me since childhood.
Looking Forward
My journey to becoming an artist has been anything but straightforward. I’ve made wrong turns, doubted myself endlessly, put things on the back burner and nearly gave up on the dream entirely. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned is that it’s never too late to return to what you love.
Painting has given me so much more than I ever expected - it’s my therapy, my passion, and my purpose. But I know my journey is far from over. My work will continue to evolve as I explore new techniques and discover new influences.
But one thing will never change:
That same simple joy I felt as a child, painting my rabbit at school, is still there every time I pick up a brush.