Sax Impey‘s work is inspired by his experiences at sea. He’s clocked thousands of nautical miles delivering yachts to places all over the world. Impey’s paintings are so beautifully atmospheric, as are is his highly detailed pencil drawings. It’s his most recent seascapes that I am most drawn to, that show the many moods of the ocean.

Yutaka Yoshinaga‘s artworks have the look of paint peeling from a wall. Drawn on traditional Japanese washi paper using dry pigments, colour and texture are both central to his work. The pieces are like unfolded origami. “The life of materials,” every crease, blemish and repair, is what intrigues him. I find them very beautiful, but it’s his meditative pace –– Yoshinaga works on one square at a time –– and his respect for what happens to his materials over time, that I find inspiring.

My Mum is as enthusiastic about ceramics as I am, and most of our conversations now circle back to clay. Throughout lock-down, we both pinched pots at our respective kitchen tables –– hers in a small London flat, mine in a Toronto Victorian –– while nattering about vaccines, Brexit, botox and how best to poach an egg. For both of us, clay provided an escape, respite and release. For Christmas 2021 my Mum sent me a small ceramic sculpture she had made at her kitchen table. I hadn’t seen her in such a long time and I was so grateful to hold something in my hands that she had made with hers. These delicate works by French ceramicist, Jeanne-Sarah Bellaiche reminded me of the piece my Mum sent to me. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?

That Kristina Riska works on the scale that she does –– her work is massive –– and produces such diaphanous vessels is a testament to extraordinary skill. Critics say her work, “defies gravity” and stretches the boundaries of ceramic sculpture. This footage of the artist at work in her Helsinki studio is quite lovely, and gives us some sense of her process. As beautiful as her curvaceous forms, are her matte, earthy glazes that look like mud, rock, bone and charcoal.

It rained and hailed and snowed today, and the weather reminded me of Helen Booth’s paintings. The British artist works with a monochromatic palette, and paints in small strokes and dots of colour. I see snow squalls and raindrops on glass when I look at her paintings. She captures the magic and stillness of a fresh snowfall so beautifully. I can only imagine how meditative it would be to sit in a room of her paintings.

I was thinking about my previous post on Fieroza Doorsen, and her beautiful restraint, when the great Miles Davis quote, “It’s not the notes you play, it’s the notes you don’t play” appeared in my feed. It’s funny how our brains work to connect the dots. There’s beauty and grace in restraint. Restraint gives way to possibility. It leaves the other person wondering, imagining. Picasso’s bull, a Brutalist building, and a single variety flower arrangement all spring to mind. It’s the absence of something that makes them all so beautiful.

I’m drawn to amorphous shapes and pure colour which is why Fieroza Doorsen‘s paintings are so appealing to me. Deceptively simple, her compositions have a profound effect. Doorsen’s work is a reminder of how powerful restraint can be. She has a background in printmaking and moves between pastels, charcoal, ink, oil paint, pencil, henna, acrylic, string, wax and collage.