Why I Paint (And Why I Keep Putting It Out There)

29 Jun

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on a simple yet profound question: why do I paint? it is a question I return to often. why am I doing this thing?

But maybe the better question is—why do we communicate at all? Whether we speak, write, sign, or create, it's all a form of expression. A way to connect, to explain, to argue, to reveal beauty, or simply to be understood. It feels good to create.

For me, art is my voice.
Painting is how I communicate not just with others, but with myself. It’s deeply personal, and yet it’s also a bridge—an offering—to the outside world.

A Lifelong Pull

I've always felt drawn to art (pun somewhat intended). I started painting at around four years old. I had to stop around age nine or ten due to health issues, but the desire never left. In fact, art played a major role in healing and grounding me later in life—through processing past events, through art college, uni and beyond.

There were four years when I stopped painting again, a kind of drifting period after graduating in 2012. But even then, something inside me knew: I still wanted to create, and was waiting to have something to say. And once I picked up the brush again, it was like returning to an old part of myself. It felt inevitable.

More Than a Hobby

Painting isn’t just a pastime for me. It's as natural—and necessary—as breathing.
Some pieces are playful challenges, sparked by a cool idea. Others come from deep emotional places. I feel the piece almost sculpturally, getting tangled in its emotion as I go.

Some paintings have surprised me. Others scared me with their unintended intensity. And many… were a struggle until the very last moment of deeming it finished. But I’m obsessed—in the best way. I have to create.

Why I Share My Art

I put my work out there for a many reasons, here are a few off top of my head:

To spread joy. I love seeing someone smile because of a piece I made. (Of course, not every piece is for everyone—and that’s okay.)
To make space. Quite literally! My studio can (and is) get overwhelmed with finished pieces. Selling work makes room—physically, emotionally, mentally and creatively.
To keep going. Each piece that finds a new home motivates me to keep creating. It's deeply fulfilling to know that my art sparks conversation in someone else's space.

I’ll be honest—I dream of art not just being a passion, but a sustainable part of my life. I live with autism, ADHD, and health challenges that impact my daily functioning. Painting gives me purpose, and supporting myself through art would mean more than just paying bills—it would mean living the life I wish to live.

Practical Constraints and Creative Flow

Right now, I’m limited in how I work. Today I mostly create on paper and at smaller scales due to storage constraints. Canvas, especially large ones, is a dream space for me—they’re immediate, tangible, and impactful. But they take up room I don’t always have.

Despite this, I keep going.

I’ve met incredible people through painting—other artists, live painting at festivals, unexpected supporters. These experiences remind me that putting art into the world opens doors I never knew existed and pushes me out of my comfort zones

The Challenge of Variety

One thing I struggle with is the expectation that artists stick to a clear series or “niche.” That’s not how my brain works. I don’t complete a series in one go—it might stretch across years. I revisit themes when they call to me: maze-headed figures, water motifs, hummingbirds, demons in bathrooms… it’s all me.

Sure, it might be easier to market if everything was neatly grouped. But life isn’t neat.
Humans are complex, and my art reflects that.

Honestly, most of my work is acrylic on paper, wooden panel or canvas—that’s already a niche, right? ….right? …..But even so, choosing what to bring to markets always leaves me rethinking everything. ooooo this would be exciting to share, and this and that,,oooo havent seen that one in a while!(My last market especially felt overwhelming with setting up—more on that in a blog soon.)

A Glimpse of What’s Next

Right now, I’m working on a piece that excites me more than I expected. It took a turn that just worked. It's part of a more intense, explicit series. A she-demon in a watery tiled bathroom—partially inspired by The Shape of Water green grungy bathroom and Hellboy halo fire, so just a tiny touch of Guillermo del Toro’s magic. It started as a happy accident and quickly turned into something powerful.

I’ll Keep Painting

In the end, I’ll keep creating what my heart tells me to. Even if it’s messy, even if it doesn’t fit into a perfect box, it’s real. It’s mine. And it’s meant to be shared. the ones that felt forced or not me, I can simply paint over.

Thanks for being here, reading, and (hopefully) connecting with some part of my journey.

Let’s see what is next.

Chris Shopland