Over the past few years, my work has focused on celebrating and empowering women, while exploring how the environments we inhabit shape our identities. Through color, pattern, and the blending of figures with their surroundings, I've developed a visual language that reflects the complexity, strength, and individuality of women. This series was inspired by the strong ladies in my family who have had such a profound influence on my life. Their example continues to inspire my work, and I hope to carry that same sense of strength and empowerment forward to the girls and women in my own life.
Over the past year, however, I've felt a gradual shift in how I approach my work. There's been this lingering question in the back of my mind as I create: What's next? Perhaps it's the pressure of what's expected of me as an artist, or simply my own inner voice questioning my direction and place in the art world. Whatever it is, it's pushed me to reconsider some of the visual boundaries I've created for myself. While the message behind my work remains the same, the structured patterns, stencils, and overlays that have become recognizable elements of my paintings are gradually making room for a more fluid and intuitive process.
Collage has played an important role in this transition. Working with found imagery, magazines, and fragments of other people's creations has given me the freedom to play without the pressure of producing something meticulous or polished. By breaking down and reimagining these materials, I'm creating new visual worlds while rediscovering familiar elements of my own artistic language. I recognize the lines I instinctively sketch, the compositions I gravitate toward, and the influence of my graphic design background. It's been freeing to see these elements emerge naturally, without forcing them. Why collage? I don't know! I've always been intrigued by the craft, and I really admire the work of local artist Sylvia Mueler. I'm also someone who loves working with my hands, whether it's painting, knitting, or simply making something from scratch. Collage just felt like a natural extension of that curiosity. So, I bought a handful of magazines, opened my sketchbook, and started experimenting. No expectations, no real plan, just the freedom to see what happens.
I believe my upbringing has helped me become a very adaptable person, and I presume my latest 'artist anxiety' is asking to be able to embrace CHANCE more than usual. Much like my multiple-exposure photography, where planning and unpredictability work together, collage has reminded me of the excitement of an unexpected result. Not every decision needs to be deliberate. Sometimes allowing materials, shapes, and images come together in surprising ways can lead to something more interesting than what I originally envisioned. I’ve been slowly allowing that same openness into my painting practice.
I’m beginning to be ‘ok’ with letting go of my previous representation of the relationship between women and their environments. It doesn't always need to be expressed through obvious patterns or overlapping imagery. It may be communicated through color, composition, texture, and subtle details that suggest a deeper connection between the figure and the space around her.
As I approach 2027, I find myself at a necessary and welcomed pivotal point in my artistic practice. My upcoming April solo exhibition at ASK in Kingston will bring together paintings from different stages of this journey, from earlier works such as Afsatou and Maya to recent paintings like Marianne, alongside new explorations that reflect where I'm headed next.
Rather than presenting a finished transformation, I want this exhibition to offer a glimpse into an evolution still in progress. At its core, my work continues to be about women, their stories, and the environments that shape them. What's changing is my willingness to let go, trust my intuition, and allow the unexpected to become part of the work. Writing about these challenges has also been helpful for me. Putting my thoughts on paper allows me to organize my ideas, better understand this transition, and feel a little more grounded in a process that can sometimes feel uncertain and unsettling. It's funny, I love the push and pull of contrasting elements in my paintings, but experiencing that same tension in real life can be quite jarring!
I hope sharing these thoughts offers a small window into my creative process. It's not always easy to explain what goes on in a creative’s mind, but perhaps it will spark a little curiosity and wonder about how we navigate change, embrace the unexpected, and find our way forward.
Much love,
Mari
