We’ll Always Have Paris
April 28, 2026
Our feet shifted the path’s fine, golden-white dust as we walked around the Jardin des Tuileries. We were looking for a scene that would inspire us to sit down and sketch.
When we finally settled on the Minotaur statue, K said “We mustn’t let comfort get in the way of what we want to draw.”
“You’re absolutely right” I replied, as we were pulling the heavy green chairs of the Jardin closer to the mythical creature.
We sat down and realised we would have the sun in our eyes while drawing, thus making the experience very uncomfortable indeed… So we swiftly turned the chairs around and started drawing the Centaur Nessus abducting Deianira instead.
The Centaur Nessus abducting Deianira. Didn’t have time to finish the sketch but I sort of like it as it is.
My friend had assured me that my trip to Paris would get me out of the creative slump I was in, and she was right!
Being in a beautiful city full of art was definitely inspiring. But I think what I needed most was spending time with friends. I hadn’t realised how much I needed it to fill my cup.
Drawn in the Jardin du Luxembourg. Left: Statue of Pierre Guillaume Frédéric Le Play par André Joseph Allar. Right: I have a thing for chairs now.
Besides, my artist friend K really motivated me to sketch while we were out and about. We drew every day, if only for 20 minutes sometimes. Another lesson I keep forgetting: I don’t have to set aside hours at a time to draw, just a little bit every day is perfectly fine.
Coincidently (or, you know, as a sign from the universe) I received a newsletter on the day I came back home, about the benefits of drawing daily. Written by Christopher Thornock, an illustrator, artist and educator, the newsletter makes the case for the 10-minute sketch practice. I strongly recommend reading it, as well as subscribing to Christopher Thornock’s Substack.
Another unfinished sketch, from our day out in Saint-Germain-en-Laye
So, have I drawn daily since then? Not quite, I had a lot going on during my first week back. But I’ve drawn more than I had in the weeks prior to the trip, so there’s that. I have faith I can build a daily practice. After all, I’ve done it before, back in 2024.
Judith xx
Quick sketches made as I was visiting the Musée du quai Branly. I’d never seen so much (if any?) Oceanian art before!
Monthly inspiration
Well, as you can probably tell from the above, inspiration was aplenty this month! I’m choosing the artist Leonora Carrington (1917 - 2011), whose work I saw at the Musée du Luxembourg.
I’m in awe of her imagination. The worlds she created are fascinating and the details in her art so mesmerising. Which is why I’m only showing you close-ups below. At such a small scale, showing you the full pieces would not do them justice.
I recommend listening to this episode of The Great Women Artists podcast to learn all about Carrington’s life and work.
Close-ups on Leonora Carrington’s paintings
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From Portrait to Landscape
March 31, 2026
The low winter sun was streaming through the trees, casting blue shadows on the snow. The brook water could be seen here and there, like black shimmering holes against the white.
The Brook, 2026
I don’t know why I never draw landscapes. I love looking at beautiful landscapes and I love landscape art. Though I must say I’ve started noticing and appreciating that type of art more in the past two years. Before that I was always more attracted to artworks with human figures in it.
This illustration was inspired by a walk in a local ‘ecology’ park in my hometown in Canada, which I visited briefly over the winter. I took the reference photo thinking I would probably just post it in a story on Instagram. Then one morning I wanted to draw in my sketchbook and was looking for something to draw. I picked the image almost at random.
I’d brought limited amount of drawing material with me for my visit home, which turned out to be perfect for this winter landscape. In the end I only used a 14B pencil and a blue coloured pencil. The white of the page did the rest.
I like the outcome. The limited colour palette helps give the drawing a more stylised look, as opposed to trying to be simply a copy of the reference photo. But because of all the beautiful landscape art I’ve noticed in the past two years (more on this below), I’m thinking I could have pushed the stylisation more.
Hum, I’m not sure ‘stylisation’ is the right word. What I mean is that I’m increasingly attracted to art where the artist has interpreted what she or he sees. The outcome is not a carbon copy of reality. There might even be just a faint likeness, but the passion and energy that come through more than make up for it. Sometimes the subject is slightly deformed, and that’s what makes it interesting.
I’ve been wondering what I could do to bring the above into my work more, to stop myself trying to stay so close to the reference photo. One answer would be to practice drawing from memory instead. Another would be to go back to sketching directly with ink again. Once you’ve marked the page with ink, there’s not going back. That’s the only way I’ve found to keep the interesting flaws and energy in my work.
I’m in a bit of creative rut at the moment. I’m finding it hard to muster the motivation to start something new. I’m hoping spring will bring some of my enthusiasm back. Watch this space.
Judith xx
Monthly inspiration
Here’s the ‘more below’ part! Let me treat your eyes with a few of the landscape artworks that inspire me.
Simon Palmer’s name is the first to come to mind if you ask me about striking landscape art.
I loooove how he depicts the English countryside.
Across The Ocre by Simon Palmer
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Low Thorpe by Simon Palmer
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Novices Searching For Their Souls by Simon Palmer
Low Thorpe by Simon Palmer
Novices Searching For Their Souls by Simon Palmer
After I’d finished the brook drawing, I came across a greeting card featuring this linocut by William H. Hays, which reminded me of my illustration.
Sunshine Snowfall, linocut by William H. Hays
Then while researching his work for this post, I saw this other linocut that had a similarity with the brook showing through the snow!
Snowy Caw, linocut by William H. Hays
One last artwork from Hays, because I’m partial to a snowy landscape.
Jim’s Farm, linocut by William H. Hays
The incredible artist Isabelle Arsenault doesn’t often draw landscapes (that I could find anyway), but I absolutely love this one. What she chose to include and to edit out of the illustration is simply masterful.
I took a screenshot of this post on her Instagram profile
I’m leaving you with these three artworks and artists to enjoy:
Sussex Landscape by Eric Ravilious
Thawing Lake by Gy Yuan
Snowstorm in a Pennine Valley by Stanley Roy Badmin
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A Collage Breakthrough
February 24, 2026
I’ve always been intimidated by collages. I just don’t know where to start with them. There are too many variables. What do you mean just leaf through a magazine or two, cut out a few things and create something out of them? Without a brief or at the very least a theme, my mind freezes. There are too many possibilities, how can I choose? If I can’t plan an artwork, I experience creative block.
Which is why I was surprised when I created the below in about 2 hours. Things were flowing, I didn’t panic, no tears were shed. I even enjoyed it.
Untitled Collage, 2025
But I shouldn’t have been surprised, I did have a brief. I’d set out to create an accompanying piece to a (much nicer) collage created by my friend Véronique Laliberté. I wanted some decoration above my bed, I loved my friend’s piece, and I thought it would be good to have another collage in the same vein next to it.
Do people iron their duvet cover? I can’t be bothered, please don’t tell my mum
The reason why my collage went so well was because I had an example to follow. A bit like doing a series, some questions were already answered beforehand: a famous person’s face, some organic shapes, using a pencil, the colour palette. I wasn’t creating from scratch: I was following some kind of recipe.
Sadly, I’m not the type of person who can just start creating something without knowing where it’s going. I wish! I’m working on letting go of control of the outcome, but progress is very slow on that front. Clearly, having a brief is the key to help me with collages and I’ll use this tactic in the future. I can always practise letting go of control with other mediums (like watercolour, which gives me no choice anyway).
Judith xx
Monthly inspiration
No, the monthly inspiration is not me, it’s the camera I’m holding
If you follow me on Instagram, you might have noticed that I’ve started using a 35mm film camera. I am obsessed with it. There’s just something about the grain and the colours that can’t be matched by digital images, even when faked. If it wasn’t so expensive I’d take as many photos with my analogue camera as I take on my phone!
Photos taken on the grounds of Osterley House
It’s probably good that I can’t though. It makes me think twice before taking a photo, on top of having to spend time adjusting the camera. Sometimes a film roll comes back and I like 95% of the photos. Sometimes I forget to change a crucial setting and 4 out of 36 photos are ‘okay.’ 🥲
Bad photos for various reasons: too dark and dull (didn't set the camera to the right ISO); weird framing and frankly just not an interesting shot; wonky AND my camera strap makes an appearance at the top!
To come back to what I was saying above, the film camera is a great exercise in letting go of the outcome. Lines aren’t always straight. I’m still learning how to use the flash well. There’s an unexpected “artistic” blur here and there. I’ve even done a double exposure by accident. And I love it all. Even though I think I still take “better” photos on my phone, I prefer the quality of the film ones.
On the train to Brighton and Brighton beach
I also believe this strong pull towards analogue is my brain tapping into the collective unconsciousness. With the rise of AI and an overload of online content, more people have started to seek imperfect and offline experiences.
Some Christmas shots
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A New Series
January 27, 2026
I started the year by finishing a book cover illustration. A self-initiated project, so let’s not get too excited here, although a little excitement is still warranted. For the past two years, one of my New Year’s goals (or resolutions if you prefer) was to design more example book covers to build a portfolio. Yet I hadn’t done any. At last I’ve taken a step towards that goal!
I’d been wondering why exactly it took me so long to create this cover. Then I had a look at how many goals were on my list last year alone and thought that, maybe, it was just too many to get through in one year. I also worked on longer art projects, so I’ve decided not to beat myself up about it. There’s only so much spare time in a year.
Here’s the long awaited (for me) book cover:
Done in Procreate on the iPad
Some of you might remember the cover I did for the first book of the Neapolitan Quartet, My Brilliant Friend. This is the second novel. Which means that, yes, I’m onto another series of illustrations. I love series!
At the risk of repeating myself, the beauty of a series is that many decisions have been made on the first piece, freeing your brain of those decisions for the subsequent pieces. It means the task of starting something new is less daunting.
In this instance, the first cover informed the second in terms of the restricted colour palette, the two main characters, the hand drawn typography, and where the title and author’s name should be positioned.
Choosing the colour palette reminded me of my former job as a swimwear designer, and finding a second colourway for swimsuits’ prints. The second colour combination had to match the first one in tone. For example, if print one was bright red, black and mid-grey, then print two should be something like bright green, dark navy and mid-blue.
Examples of swimwear prints—or ‘all over prints’ as we call them—that I worked on
This is the principle I used for The Story of a New Name. Though I cheated slightly, adding three extra shades of purple compared to the shades of blues used on the first cover. It was hard for me to break the “rule” of using exactly the same number of colours. A rule I had established, might I add, but finally I convinced my brain that no-one would tell me off for adding a colour (or three).
Comparing the two palettes
I chose not to depict a specific scene, but rather the essence of a section of the book. One that sets in motion a lot of what will happen throughout the rest of the story. Where, on the first cover, Lila and Lenu (the two main characters) were running together, here only Lila is running. Lenu is left behind, observing.
I researched their swimsuits very extensively considering how little we see of them! What were women wearing on the beach in Italy in the early 1960s? What hairstyle? I decided on something leaning more towards the 1950s, as the fashion at the beginning of a decade often looks more like the end of the last one.
Some of the reference photos I used
Lastly, I had to draw a book sitting next to Lenu. Just like the book being dropped by Lila on the first cover I created was important, this one is also significant. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you why without giving away spoilers. I also can’t tell you about the man in the sea, towards whom Lila is running. You’ll just have to treat yourself and read the book series!
To go back to the New Year’s goals, I intend on being more prolific art-wise in 2026. Last year was one of input, visiting as many beautiful places and exhibitions as possible. There will still be some of that this year, but I would like to do something with all that inspiration. So let 2026 be a year of output!
Judith xx
Process from rough sketch to final illustration
Monthly inspiration
Every month the magazine The World of Interiors lands on my doorstep, and it’s a treat. It is now part of my morning routine: I read one article while drinking coffee. Something inspiring to start the day.
Is it full of houses/flats and things I could never afford? Of course it is. But it also shows the multitudes of ways people curate their homes, and not just in Western countries either. I get exposed to all sorts of interiors.
There are also articles on books, arts, exhibitions, architecture and culture. It’s all right up my alley, as you can imagine.
Some of the variety that can be found within The World of Interiors pages
I really appreciate that the magazine isn’t trying to tell me what “good taste” is. Or that there even is such a thing as good or bad taste. I love this quote by Alice Inggs from the latest issue:
“Cultivate an interest in things and where they come from and why you like them. In the end, taste is only unmistakable when it leaves a trace. Assemble your home so that once you leave the room, there is still a story to tell.”
The quote resonates with what I wrote in this Instagram post last year:
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Rockin' Around...
The Christmas treeNovember 25, 2025
Le Violon, 2025. Graphite pencils and acrylic gouache on paperThe house was filled with people dressed up to the nines for the Christmas celebrations. There were guests in the kitchen, in the lounge, in the basement (the teenagers mostly). These people had eaten all the food and were now diligently making sure that by the end of the evening there wouldn’t be a drop of alcohol left in the house.
Dolo didn’t drink much. She didn’t need it to have fun. Case in point, her cheeks were currently hurting from laughing so much. The stories had been especially good that day—this might be a family of drunkards, but at least they were the happy kind.
In the corner of the lounge, full of tinsel and shiny baubles, the Christmas tree twinkled. Dolo sat in the rocking chair next to it. A nice treat for her legs, heavy from poor circulation. Seconds later, someone was putting a violin in her hands.
“Allez Dolo, joue nous donc quequ’chose.” (“Come on Dolo, play us something”).
There was no point arguing, and besides she was more than happy to oblige. Dolo put the violin to her chin, closed her eyes, and started to play.
This is the fourth, and last for now, artwork in my series about my grandmother.
Do you remember two newsletters back, when I mentioned being somewhat inspired by an installation from Do Ho Suh for the colour palette? ‘Course you do. But here’s a reminder just in case:
Once again, I questioned my choices while working on some details. You’d think the plaid pattern on the rocking chair and lampshade would be the worst, but you’d be mistaken! It was the pattern on the curtains. The various tones combined with gradients in the folds were especially hard. Creating a ‘grisaille’ is hard enough, but doing it by mixing grey with a colour instead of white is even harder. Well, it was harder for me anyway. Especially since the gouache colour mixed on the palette changes once it dries!
I enjoyed working on the Christmas tree. Tinsel is extremely bad for the planet, and I wouldn’t want it in my tree nowadays anyway, but I sure love the retro look of it. When going through my mum’s photo albums I found a few cool trees. Like this one from 1959, with all the gifts under it:
I just noticed the nativity scene to the left of the image, with a rocky patterned fabric background. Had the picture been ever so slightly clearer, I would definitely have used it as a reference photo for a drawing.
You know what, I didn’t plan this post to be so Christmas-related, but I’m rolling with it. Let’s enjoy this photo that does the Instagram rounds every year during the yuletide season, and yet I’m not tired of seeing it:
Christmas Swim, 1954, by Slim Aarons
The colours are so great! It’s so fun with the baubles everywhere in the pool! I’m not usually a big fan of palm trees and hot weather at Christmas—I’m from Québec after all—but this image feels very Christmassy in spite of it all. There’s some magic to it.
And on that note, it’s a wrap on Inspired for 2025. You’ll find me in your inbox again in 2026 (let’s take a moment to be incredulous together at how quickly this year went by!).
Until then, take care and I hope the holiday season will be kind to you.
Judith xx
Reference photo, which I cropped for better composition
Close-ups
Monthly inspiration
I recently visited some beautiful churches in London, and I thought it’d be fitting to talk about them in this newsletter. After all, the only time I went to church as a child was at Midnight Mass, on Christmas Eve.
I’m not a religious person, but I like beauty. And a lot of churches are stunning. Some feel very peaceful too. You don’t have to be a believer to feel calmer within their walls.
I was reminded of Venice’s Basilica di San Marco upon entering Westminster Cathedral, with all the golden mosaic. This 1903 church has the particularity of not being finished inside: most of the ceiling is just exposed black bricks. It makes for an amazing contrast with the parts that are ornately decorated.
The Temple Church, built by the Knights Templar in the 12th century, was less grandiose but full of great details. I loved the circle of portrait heads all around, known as ‘The Grotesques.’ They’re stone effigies of knights, just like the memorial sculptures found on the floor.
The tiles covering the floor at the top of the stairs had great designs. I especially liked Pegasus.
All Saints, Margaret Street, was richly decorated from floor to ceiling and I loved it! Designed in 1850, it is regarded as one of the foremost examples of High Victorian Gothic architecture in Britain.Want to get this blog directly in your inbox each month? Just subscribe to my Inspired Substack.
