The Rhythm Between Art and Writing

Personally, I’ve always found that making art and writing go hand-in-hand. They feel like two halves of the same creative rhythm — one rises while the other rests, and together they keep me moving forward. After hours at the easel, I feel both exhilarated and a little depleted. That’s when I turn to writing. Words flow in their quieter way, giving me space to process and reflect. Then, when the words are spent, I find myself longing to return to colour, canvas, and brush.

This cycle is less about discipline and more about balance. Each practice feeds the other. Painting teaches me to notice rhythm, texture, and silence — lessons I carry into writing. Writing, in turn, helps me shape narrative, emotion, and meaning — all of which find their way back into my paintings.

One of my recent works, Veil of Blue, feels like a reflection of this process. The painting is built from layers of shifting blues, creating a sense of flow and depth, like breath or water. Across the surface, squares of deep red punctuate the calm — bursts of energy that interrupt and enliven the stillness. For me, those reds feel like the urgency of painting after a long stretch of words. The blues, by contrast, embody the contemplative quiet of writing after the intensity of paint.

Together, they form a rhythm: action and pause, sound and silence, painting and writing. Neither could exist in isolation.

For me, this is the true rhythm of creativity. Not a straight line of endless productivity, but a cycle of expansion and return, intensity and rest. When I honour that rhythm, I find myself not only creating more, but living more fully — present in both the colours of paint and the cadence of words.