In many ways, I feel far too much of a “baby artist” to claim any sort of “masterpiece”. But of all the art I have produced so far in the last two years, this one holds the most meaning for me.

It’s the first time I have approached a piece of art with something of a plan: an actual concept I wanted to explore. It’s an idea I hoped to convey, as opposed to simply putting pencil to paper, brush to canvas, on a whim, in the moment, as inspiration struck.

I had been exploring capturing the wooded area on the school run for a while. Playing with the colour and form of the trees. Letting myself experiment with different mediums, taking time to look, really look, at the nature surrounding me, find a way to demonstrate not only the physical, but also the emotional beauty of the space.

One particular day, I was feeling darker in myself. The world felt heavy, the future, looming ominous and uncertain. As a result, the trees surrounding me too felt darker. Their branches, twisting above my head casting shadows on those who ventured underneath. Keen to get home quickly I turned to hurry my child. There he was, not a care in the world, blowing bubbles as he gently meandered on his way. Smiling softly as the light caught each bubble, bringing a burst of colour, oh so briefly, and then watched as they were lifted up into the sky, lighter than air itself. Their beauty, evanescent in the breeze, shifted something in my mood. I felt the cares of adulthood briefly lighten as I allowed myself to indulge in the whimsy of childhood. Suddenly I noticed the way the light hit my child’s face. Illuminating his smile. The flowers of spring bursting from the ground with hope and promise of better things.

And I found myself wishing I could capture the moment, the feeling, and hold onto it forever.

So I put it in a painting.

The trees, dark and foreboding, surround the child, oblivious to their presence. The light, drawing the eye to the bubbles, as beautiful and as fleeting as childhood itself. As I was mapping out the composition, I wasn’t sure whether to include the school bag present in my reference photo. But I decided there was something about how big it looked on his tiny body, the heaviness of it, juxtaposed against the weightless bubbles that really emphasised the weight of the moment. It seemed to say something to me about the burdens imposed on young people by the adults around them. Ultimately though, it was a moment of joy because despite the cares of the world, when we take a moment to embrace childhood, and playfulness, even we adults can experience the freedom and lightness the world has to offer.