Dear Stacey (21 April ‘26)

Kitchen Studio Table during the school holidays

Dear Stacey,

I hope this finds you well when you land in the UK!!! I can’t quite believe you have gone away to London… I'm so envious! London conjures up so many memories for me when I lived there in my 20’s and studied an Illustration Masters at Camberwell College of Arts. Such incredible times.

I’m sitting now in my studio, which of course I couldn’t just enter and sit down and start working.. I realised I have a process I have to go through… I dropped the children off at the bus and kinder, a walk with J and talking through ALL THE THINGS, a coffee, then home to do a little tidy up, moving things around so I can actually get into my studio, rearrange the desk, wipe the desk, vacuum the floor, wrap a painting in bubble wrap that is heading off to an art prize shortly and now I settle with a cup of tea and fresh flowers (dahlias) from the garden. How lucky I am to have this beautiful sun-filled space to work in, surrounded by sketchbooks and paints. I started a few little watercolours, and while they dry I am writing to you!

I have been thinking a lot about letter writing since you last wrote to me. I have been writing a letter back to you in my mind as I go off to sleep. I think of things to include and then I edit out. How strange our minds are?! I tell myself, it’s ok you can write all this tomorrow, but of course then the days rush away from me (because it has been school holidays for us here) and 2 ½ weeks of time home with sick kiddos, kids who want to see their friends, soccer camps, small errands etc… I then find myself back in bed at the end of the day and the thoughts rush in again and all the letters I want to write.

I have written letters since primary school age, because yes, I am of the generation, like yourself, before screens were a thing and the only thing to watch was free-to-air television and if you didn’t watch it at the time or didn’t tape it on a VHS then it was gone. We had video stores, tape players and I delighted in making mixed tapes, taped off the radio for friends. And of course, mail was the most wonderful thing to send and receive! And the habit never really got replaced for me. While I try to resist time scrolling on my phone (I’m only human), I actually don’t find it so hard to retake back my attention from screens because I will write letters, read, draw or knit. I love long form written words, something to get one’s brain sunk into. I still have “Pen-pals” who I started writing to in my teens and 20’s and each letter writer has a different and beautiful flavour. H, who lives in Ireland, and I went to school together, still writes to me. MG who recently moved to Italy, we have been writing since our early 20’s. There is S who lived across the road from my Granny in Launceston and now lives in Scotland. J, who I went to uni with and would always sign off “JB by the tea chest” because we would always meet at the tea station at our VCA Printmaking studios. I love how letter writing tracks the threads of life like silk woven across space and time.

Thinking about my letter writing history led me to think about famous letter writers and books I have collected and coveted over time. Letters to a Young Poet, Rilke - a classic!! Every art practitioner, visual artist or writer should read it. Dear Sun, Letters between Sunday Reed and Joy Hester (and probably my favourite of these books) because their letters are so genuine and give us such a beautiful insight into their world and the Heide artists between the 1940-1970’s. And of course Dear Gwen, by Celia Paul (which I know you have read and also loved) These beautiful letters that Celia Paul wrote to Gwen John who existed a century before herself but lived a very parallel life. I think this book was something of a catalyst in starting this project with you was it not?!

Dear Sun and Letters to a Young Poet with a little watercolour in progress

Something you mentioned in your last letter really resonated with me and especially now while my kids are little and I have less capacity, “contributing to family finances”. I used to be able to carry our family financially when the world wasn’t as stretched economically as it seems to be these days. I have had to think creatively about ways to make money that doesn’t compromise my creative practice, that feels authentic to me and also that doesn’t drain me of energy and time further. I find this last one really hard to find the balance with. I love teaching but the set up and then the actual teaching (which I LOVE) completely drains me. I spend a few days having to recover and it doesn’t feel entirely fair to my body or family. I know it is not helped by my neuro-type, perimenopause and just life stage in general… I look at you with your girls now more or less grown up and I see there is scope there in the future. When I can wake up and not be rushing kids out the door… and when I can work through dinner time if I am on a creative roll!

Two watercolours on khadi paper and watercolour palette

I have been knitting and reading a lot these last 2 weeks. I finished Arundhati Roy’s memoir which was wonderful. A beautiful account of a mother and daughter’s relationship with all it’s machinations, both beautiful and fraught at times, her creative process, living below the poverty line and India’s politics over the years. I am listening to The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny by Kiran Desai which is long but feels like more of a deep dive into a India through a different author’s lense. And knitting I have just cast on Gloam by Cailin Hunter at your insistence and you were right it is a joy to work on in Bendigo woolen mills Rustic tweed in a chocolate brown. Yum!

I've included some photos from our school holiday adventures too. A beautiful walk up at Sanatorium Lake, Mount Macedon with J and E and all our kids. E and I sat around to knit and chat after the walk while the boys dug up one of our paddocks for Mountain biking jumps!

Knitting and life chats with ES in the kitchen.

Ah this got long... Hope it finds you well and stepping off a plane into Spring in London. I can’t wait to read your letters from there.

Big love,
Lizzie