What Happens When You Dare to Say Your Dream Out Loud?
I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how my art journey began.
Not the painting. Not the exhibitions, workshops or everything that came afterwards.
I’ve been thinking about the moment when I first allowed myself to say:
“I want to be an artist.”
Because for a long time, I didn’t think I could be one.
I remember thinking:
“I’m not good enough.”
“There are so many other people who are better than me.”
“Who am I to call myself an artist?”
And somehow, those thoughts just felt like facts.
Artists were other people.
People who had studied art, who had always known what they wanted to do, who were more talented and more confident.
Not me.
The ridiculous notion
I have a friend who I met years ago at a local tots group.
Our children were running around the village hall, and somewhere amongst the chaos, I remember telling her that I wanted to be an artist.
I can still remember how I felt afterwards.
Sick.
That horrible feeling you get when you’ve said something out loud and immediately wish you could take it back.
What had I been thinking?
What if I failed?
What if I couldn’t actually do it?
How could I ever call myself an artist?
It felt like such a ridiculous notion.
And yet...
I said it.
Nothing magically changed overnight. I didn’t suddenly become confident or start producing amazing paintings.
But I had given the idea a voice.
And sometimes, I think that is where things begin.
“I remember when you said you wanted to be an artist…”
Years later, that same friend will sometimes say to me:
“I remember when you said you wanted to be an artist. Now look at you. I’m so proud of you.”
And every time she says it, it makes me stop.
Because she remembers the version of me who sat in that village hall, feeling terrified that I had said something so audacious.
She remembers when it was just an idea.
Just a dream.
Just a few words spoken out loud.
And I think there is something incredibly powerful about that.
What if we said it out loud?
How many of us have dreams that we keep tucked away?
Things we would love to do one day.
A body of work we'd love to create.
An exhibition we'd love to have.
A studio we'd love to have.
A desire to finally call ourselves an artist.
But we don't say them.
Because saying it makes it real.
And when it becomes real, suddenly we have something that could potentially fail.
So we tell ourselves we're too busy. We don't have enough time. We're not good enough yet. We need to learn more first.
And before we know it, one day becomes another year.
I know because I've been there.
So I want you to try something.
Say it out loud:
“I am an artist.”
It might feel ridiculous. It might feel uncomfortable.
Say it anyway.
Because being an artist isn't about being the best. It isn't about having a degree, thousands of followers or selling lots of paintings.
Sometimes, being an artist simply starts with deciding that your creativity matters enough to make space for it.
And then doing it.
Again.
And again.
So I’m creating The Shared Studio
Which brings me to something I am slightly nervous about sharing with you.
Because I am taking my own advice.
I'm saying the words out loud:
“I am creating an online community for artists.”
It's called The Shared Studio.
I don't have every detail worked out yet.
But I know what I want it to feel like.
A place where you don't have to create alone.
A place where you can turn up even when you're not feeling confident. Where you can experiment, make mistakes, share your work, ask questions, celebrate the things that go well and, most importantly, make time to create.
Because sometimes, what we really need isn't another tutorial.
We need someone to say:
Come on. Let's create.
From overwhelmed to creating regularly
The Shared Studio isn't simply about creating a community.
I want to help artists who feel overwhelmed, lack confidence or struggle to find time for their creativity to:
Make space for their creativity.
Build a regular art practice.
Trust themselves and their artistic voice.
Feel confident sharing and eventually selling their work.
Because I don't want creativity to remain something you wish you had more time for.
I want it to become something that is genuinely part of your life.
I don't want to build it on my own
And this is where I'm asking for your help.
I want to build The Shared Studio with artists, not simply tell you what I think you need.
That's why I'm looking for Founding Members.
I want a small group of artists to come on this journey with me at the beginning and help shape what this community becomes.
What would help you create more regularly?
What do you struggle with?
What kind of support would you value?
What would make you want to turn up each week?
Your ideas will help shape The Shared Studio.
And perhaps this is my dream all over again
As I write this, I'm aware that I'm doing exactly what I did all those years ago in that village hall.
I'm saying something out loud before I know exactly how it will happen.
And yes...
There's still a little voice asking:
What if it doesn't work?
But I've learnt something since then.
You don't have to know exactly how you're going to get there before you take the first step.
Sometimes you just need to say:
“This is what I want to create.”
And then see what happens.
So that's what I'm doing.
I am creating The Shared Studio.
And I'd love you to be part of creating it with me.
Maybe this is your moment to say something out loud too:
“I am an artist.”
And then let's see what happens.