I’m back. I hope everyone had a marvelous Christmas and New Year. Mine was wild, but that’s another story for another day.

I literally painted this yesterday, when I low key cried because the sky was that beautiful. It’s still wet and covered my forearms when I forgot and picked it up.

It was an intense experience, with me racing against the sunset to try and capture it as best as I could.

Last night, it was the kind of sunset that turns everything orange and pink, and I could not deal. The photo beneath and the painting above do not even begin to cover it.

This is the first time I’ve been able to show you guys the actual sunset/sky that inspired me. So I’m pretty stoked with that.

Lots of love,



Complementary Colours.

In memoriam of a friendship that no longer stands.

This painting has always felt unfinished to me – unfinished and half hearted.

This painting is so old I can’t remember whether or not it’s the right way up, or why I decided to paint it.

It might have been a sunrise or a sunset, it might have been dusk or during a break in a storm.

I never thought I’d actually share it with anyone. But I was looking at it, and the fact that it is so unfinished and half hearted struck me.

So, I don’t remember anything about it, but, I do know who I want to dedicate it to.

Something you are not taught when you are young, is the regularity of which people come in and out of your life.

Most the time, people come into your life who you dont want there, and then some people leave, and you would give anything to make them stay.

And when you’re in that weird age of being a teenage and being an adult, that happens all too often. You’re growing up, and so are the people around you.

So, I want to dedicate it to someone who was careless where I was careful, and because of that, I can’t decide if I avoided a disaster, or if I missed out on something wonderful.

But because that friendship is gone, doesn’t mean I don’t miss them. On the contrary actually, I miss them quite a lot.

But, who knows, am I right?

Just because something is left unfinished, doesn’t mean it’s the end.

Lots of love,


A Moody Sunset.

Anyone noticing a pattern here?? (And yes those paintings are stacked on top of my bookcase, I’m ruining out of room, okay people?)

More about this painting: I feel like the gloriousness of sunsets during thunder storms is often overlooked.

This sunset took place a month or two ago, during a storm. It had been raining and miserable all day, and then right at dusk the sky turned this marvelous yellow and broke through the dark clouds.

I literally stopped and stared for about five minutes. I was taken completely. I feel like this is less than adequate in showing its beauty, but it’s my best shot.

Fun fact, I did this around the time I went to mini golf and got so drunk I ran through the streets of Perth, which let me tell you, is not a very smart idea.

Anyway, here is a close up of A Moody Sunset while I watch watch reruns of Jeopardy on Netflix, cause why not? It’s a Thursday night and it’s the Christmas period and I work in retail. I need the break.

Lots of love,



Did youse know that Munich means “monk” in German?


One day, I really should start painting actual things, you know? But hey, Claude had his waterlilies and I have my clouds.

Then again, Monet did venture into different subject matter every now and again. (Does anyone else love The Stacks at Giverny as much as me??)

That’s always been a massive issue for me, what I should paint or draw or whatever. Do you guys struggle with that, or is it just another me thing??

Not to mention I go literally months in between paintings. I don’t really leave them unfinished, I’ll end up going back to them eventually but most the time they’ll take on a completely different meaning from what I originally intended it to be.

Like, the one above took me literally all of ten minutes, The Sunset Above 7 Tulane took me (if we’re counting the old paintings underneath it) a good four years.

Anyway, theres no cool or meaningful backstory to this one. The clouds looked super pretty, and that’s about it.

Lots of love,



I really wanted to call this one “bad boys ain’t shit” but I decided against it.

ALSO! I wanna say something here because I don’t have the balls to say it in real life.

Can we please talk about how important it is to stand up to our friends? When they are hurting themselves or others around them, can we stop enabling their behaviour and tell them to grow the fuck up?

Because I should’ve done that. I should’ve told a friend to grow the fuck up and then stopped enabling his self destructive behaviour.

Instead of doing that however, I encouraged his hell raising and went with him, and drank with him, and did all kinds stupid shit with him, to the point now, where I’m afriad.

I think he’s afriad too. And I hate that. But still, I cant bring myself to have an honest conversation with him. Kinda pathetic, hey?

This is for that friend. No matter what, everything, always will be for him. Have it, have the clouds and the sky and everything else I can give.

Stand up to your friends kids. It might save their life in the end. I know it might be scary, and it might seem like they’ll never want to speak to you again, if you “ruin their fun” but it’s worth it. I swear to God it’s worth it.

Lots of love,



So, I don’t have like a “studio” or whatever. It normally switches between my bedroom floor (which my parents hate because I’ve left streaks of oil paint all over my floor) or my parents shed.

I did this on the shed floor, talking to my best friend about how shit the fact was that we just had to have unfulfilling creative hobbies.

Anyway, this painting reminds me of fire. In Australia, where I’m from, everything is kinda like fire. In summer, the heat is like fire. When you turn on the tap, the water is hot like fire. And every night, the sunset is like fire in the sky.

So this painting, is the fire of the sunset, bleeding into the coolness of the night.

(Even though half the time the night is so hot you sweat by standing still).




Okay, so. I fucking hate this painting. I hate it so much I don’t even want to give it a name.

Why then, Aries, are you showing it to the world? I hear you ask. And rightly so. The answer is this; cause I fucking hate it, that’s why.

And I think I’m owning the fact that I hate it y’know?? That probably doesn’t make sense. I can’t explain it very well, but okay.

Serious, this painting evokes a certain kind of sadness in me. Like everything, it was originally something else. I got frustrated, though, with the form the original was taking, and I got drunk.

Patience has never been a strong point of mine. Controlling my emotions is difficult for me (I’m an Aries after all).

So, when I came home from my 19th birthday party, a little worse for wear, and I saw the painting waiting for me? I lost my shit (at this point, I literally was so blind I couldn’t take off my shoes) and this monstrosity was born. I mean, do I also hate it because it reminds me of a friendship that no longer exists? Sure.

Another story for a different day though.


Fuck it.

Let’s tell that story now.

I was 18, he was 29. A bartender. He got my WW2 jokes. He was pretty fucked up. We matched well. I told him I had a boyfriend, and he was all like, no that’s fine, I just wanna be friends with you.

Charismatic bastard.

Then he got a girlfriend who didn’t like me (but didn’t tell me she didn’t like me) and verbally abused me one night when he was really high, and yeah. That was the end of that I couldn’t help but feeling, used almost? I dont know. I’m probably not explaining it well. It’s just, in my mind, I gave him the opportunity to cut all ties with me before we developed a real friendship but he insisted.

Moral of the story? Stay away from older men, kids.

You think they’re more emotionally mature than the dickhead teenage boys you hang around, until they snort Coke off their phones and stop replying.

On that cheery not.

Lots of love,

– Aries.

(Ps, the painting is of a sunset during burn off season)