For a long time, I thought I had to choose.
Between career and place, between making a living and making art. Between the work that paid the bills and the work that fed my soul.
Like so many of us, I followed the expected path: I worked hard, built a solid reputation; and stepped deeper and deeper into roles that kept me busy, urban and always 'on'. But quietly underneath, a kind of homesickness was growing. Not just for the countryside ~ though that was part of it ~ but for another version of myself.
One who moved with the seasons.
One who stayed curious.
One who made art not in the margins of life ~ but at its centre.
House Sitting as a Turning Point
Just over four years ago, I began house sitting ~ thinking it would be a temporary shift while I worked out what was next.
It turned out to be a pivot point.
House sitting allowed me to live at a different pace ~ tasting different landscapes, light, gardens, rhythms. Each place revealing something about how I want to live, work and create.
No mortgage stress.
No fixed routine.
Just enough stillness to find space again ~ and enough movement to stir the imagination.
And slowly, something changed.
I found myself using colour differently.
Noticing seasonal shifts again.
Returning to painting outside ~ plein air ~ something I hadn’t done consistently in years.
House sitting gave me back my place-based artist self.
And I didn’t realise how much I’d missed her.
Slow Travel, Deep Seeing
There’s a growing body of research showing that slow travel ~ especially forms of travel involving emotional engagement with landscapes ~ helps restore cognitive clarity and creative capacity.
A 2020 study published in Environmental Psychology found that immersive engagement with natural environments leads to a measurable increase in both creative fluency and creative flexibility.
Another report from the Journal of Environmental Education notes that “place-based engagement fosters emotional stewardship,” strengthening the connection between humans and the places they inhabit.
For me, this shows up in colour.
In Orbost, I see iron-rich reds leaning into warm mauves.
In Buchan, it’s the shadow-blue and cave-lit amber.
In Panton Hill, the greens are so layered and alive they border on luminous.
I feel these colours first — then paint them.
The landscape becomes a palette long before it becomes a picture.
Weaving Place Back Into Purpose
That’s really how The Overproof Press came to life.
Not as a brand first ~ but as a reconnection.
A way of translating:
- colour studies
- plein air paintings
- seasonal notes
- emotional cartography
Into something others could hold.
The 2026 Calendar & Zine aren’t just products.
They are proof ~ that a life made of movement, creativity and place can be lived. And shared. And sustained.
If You Want to Come Along…
Each Saturday I write a little more of this life ~ and share:
- works in progress
- colour stories
- early looks at the 2026 collection
- slow travel insights
- creative process notes
- and the occasional wildflower or roadside museum tip
If that sounds like the kind of thing you’d enjoy...
You can join my newsletter here ~ and receive a little window into the journey every week.
(And yes, subscribers always get first access to new releases.)
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For more creative travel, folklore and slow adventures through Victoria and beyond.
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