NICOLA YOUNG

For years, I’ve tried to squeeze as many studio hours into my week as possible. If there were spare hours to be found, I would be in front of my painting wall, mixing paints or working in my sketchbook. Recently, though, that rhythm has shifted. Some of it has been due to circumstances beyond my control, but I’ve also noticed that stepping back has its benefits. Taking more time to think and reflect—something I’ve never been naturally drawn to—has given me a clarity I didn’t realise I was missing.

This pause has also made me more aware of how easy it is to fall into repetition. I’m not finished with my boat series, but I found myself circling the same ideas and veering into too representation work. Neither of which I was happy with.

New Work

That restlessness nudged me in a new direction. Still very much coastal in focus, but instead of abstracting whole scenes, I’ve been turning my attention to the details: the peeling paint on a weathered boat, rust spreading across a forgotten railing, or the way salt air erodes concrete over time. These fragments of imperfection carry their own beauty—stories of exposure, resilience, and change etched into their surfaces.

I have only completed two pieces so far but have a further 5 as work in progress.

I’m hoping when I’ve exhausted this thread I can circle back to boats and bring the two ideas together.

Sharpening My Observation Skills

Artists often notice things others might overlook. It is a skill that I am working on all of the time. I was always aware of this when drawing and painting, as your mind is fully focused on the subject, the lines, the perspective, the connections, etc. But over time I have found that it has become second nature and I am very grateful for that. I notice buildings that I may otherwise have walked past. Shapes in the landscapes and of course colours – so many colours!

Our practice sharpens observation, encouraging us to linger on small details that most people would pass by. Where someone else might see decay, we often find colour, pattern, texture and, above all, inspiration. It’s one of the joys of being an artist: training yourself to slow down enough to really look, and to find beauty in the imperfect, the worn, and the weathered.

The Generosity of Artists

Another thing I’ve been reminded of recently is the generosity of artists toward one another. After sharing a small mood board for this new work, fellow artists Julia Weston and Clare Gadsby kindly sent me photographs that sparked new ideas.

Their images opened up fresh directions I hadn’t considered. I’ve since pulled them into new inspiration boards that are helping me move this series forward. It’s a wonderful reminder that while making art is often a solitary act, we’re all connected. Inspiration flows more freely when shared, and the support of fellow creatives can nudge us past uncertainty and into discovery.

So these new “beach hut stripe” paintings are not just about peeling paint and faded colours. They’re also about observation, community, and the imperfect marks left by time. They remind me that slowing down isn’t the same as stopping. That change can come from looking closer. And that sometimes the most beautiful things are found in places we least expect.