A Letter From Lizzy - On Motherhood & Artistry
Lately, I’ve been pausing more — in the studio, at home, in those quiet, in-between moments. I’ve realised how much we give of ourselves without even noticing. In the way we care, in the way we show up, in the way we love. All of it quietly shapes the life we’re building — one gesture, one glance, one morning cup of tea left to cool on the kitchen bench.
For a long time, I thought I had to choose — to be an artist or a mum. As though they needed separate space. But motherhood has a way of softening the lines. Folding into everything, even the parts you thought would stay untouched. What I’ve come to understand is that being a mum and being an artist were never separate things — they’ve always been speaking to each other. One teaches me how to feel, the other how to see.
Watching my children grow has anchored me in ways I never expected. Their strength, their curiosity, the way they move through the world — it all shows up in the work. In the softness of a brushstroke, in the depth of colour, in the stories I now feel ready to tell. Motherhood didn’t take me away from being an artist — it brought me home to it.
I’ve learned to embrace the slowness. The rhythm that lets a painting unfold over weeks. The way time and memory layer gently, like paint. Sometimes, the most meaningful things are the ones that ask us to be patient — like the quiet connection between a mother and child. The small, everyday routines that quietly become the most lasting parts of a life.
One piece that carries this feeling for me is the Finding My Place ring. It’s personal. It speaks to the journey of becoming — and returning. Of finding solid ground, not just as a mother, but as myself. It’s for anyone who’s given so much of themselves, and is learning they still belong to themselves too.
This Mother’s Day, I’ve been thinking about legacy — not in the grand, sweeping sense, but in the quiet marks we leave behind. The care we offer without expectation. The strength we show without noise. That’s what endures. That’s what we pass on.
With love,
Lizzy