Bold Lines, Good China

I’ve recently been told by my fellow San Cresci residents, Elena and Monique, that I often say, “Don’t be precious.” It’s funny how your little quirks get amplified when you’re out of your comfort zone.

Thankfully, mine don’t seem to be annoying anyone (or at least they’re too polite to say so!). In fact, Elena and Monique encouraged me to write this post about what being precious means to me.

Elena, Monique, Mimma and I in the garden at Spritz O’clock !

Drawing up a storm

My art has evolved into a fast and intuitive process. I like to capture a fleeting moment in a drawing or painting—something transient, gone almost as soon as it appears. My marks are strong, bold, and directional. I simply don’t have the time—or the desire—to be ‘precious’ about the details.

This way of working really came out of family life. As I’ve written about before, I’ve often been juggling kids and household duties, so time at the easel was always limited. Instead of fighting that, I embraced it, and my art grew because of it.

It wasn’t always this way. I remember my art school drawing test so vividly: we had 40 minutes to draw a cow skull. My line back then mirrored who I was—timid and shy, a wallflower. I don’t think my pencil even pressed properly onto the paper. I was terrified of making a mistake because I wanted so badly to be accepted.

Drawing up a storm with La Macina Di San Cresci in the background.

Finding confidence

Over time, my confidence grew—and with it, my mark-making (my own kind of handwriting). I’ve let go of a lot of self-limiting worries. It hasn’t always been easy, but it’s made both me and my art stronger. The journey has been an analogy for life itself.

I actively practice not being precious. I love the feel of messy hands, the rush of a bold brushstroke, the sweep of a pastel line. And it’s spilled over into my home life too. I now drink tea from the good china. I’ll wear my expensive blouse to the shops. Why not?

Life is too short to save things for ‘someday.’ Now is that special time—for the good china, for your best shoes, for the brave line across the canvas.

Let go. Be brave. You’re worth it.

Yours in art,
Bec x