The Block: One conversation changed my life
How one question from my son led to one email, two paintings, five years of The Block and a life I never imagined.
The question
I can trace so much of my life now back to one ordinary conversation with my son.
In 2021, I had just completed a government commission. He looked at the work, told me how proud he felt, then asked a simple question.
“So what’s next for you, Mum?”
I answered before I could make the dream smaller or safer.
“I would love to have my artwork on The Block one day. I would love to sell through The Block Shop.”
He reminded me how much I had doubted myself before the government commission, then told me to back myself, put the dream out into the universe and see what came back.
I walked straight to my computer. I introduced myself, attached a few photographs of my work and pressed send.
I expected silence.
The email followed a few years that had already changed me. A stroke in 2017 and breast cancer in 2018 pushed me to look more closely atmy life, my culture and the place art held within both. Painting helped me heal, reconnect and trust my own voice. By 2021, I had started sharing the work more widely, but doubt still followed me.
Five days later
Five days after I pressed send, Sarah, the director of The Block Shop, contacted me. One contestant had seen my work and wanted to discuss two commissioned artworks for the coming season.
I took off through the house looking for my son. He had started renovating our old home after our move to Newcastle. I held the email out in front of him.
“Read this!”
He read it, looked at me and smiled.
“See, Mum. They want to commission you.”
I called Sarah straight away and probably sounded like a blubbering mess. She told me Georgia and Ronnie wanted the artworks.
I had loved Georgia’s style during her first season, so hearing that she had connected with my work felt incredibly special.
Georgia sent through the dimensions, 1400 by 1000 millimetres, along with photographs and a colour direction. One reference showed a Michelle Keighley artwork in her living room. Its soft blues, greens, creams and earthy touches guided the palette across both paintings.
Large canvases never worried me. The unknown room did.
At that time, contestants only learned which room they needed to reveal shortly before the week began. I started the first artwork and hoped the timing would work in my favour.
Please don’t tell me it’s hallway week
A couple of days later, Georgia checked in. I told her I had nearly finished one artwork and planned to start the second that night.
Then I joked, “Please don’t tell me it’s hallway week.”
Her reply gave me the news I had hoped to avoid.
Hallway week.
Delivery by Saturday.
My heart stopped.
I had three days to finish two large original paintings, arrange scanning in Sydney so prints could later follow, have both works framed and drive them to Melbourne.
I wrote back, “Oh Jesus. I’m working my little butt off.”
Then I told her my builder son could frame them and promised I would deliver them in person.
The roller skates went on.
The first marks, with only days remaining before delivery.
One canvas became Marrunga Yubaa, meaning Sweet Rain. Layer after layer of painted raindrops moved across the surface, shifting from deep blue into lighter greens, creams and small touches of warmth. The piece followed rain from the clouds down onto Country and celebrated the life it gives.
Marrunga Yubaa, Sweet Rain taking shape.
The second became Galingbangbur, meaning Children. Three strong forms represented my three children. The mountains, water, fire and thousands of tiny dots carried the love, protection and footsteps that shape my life as their mother.
The paintings asked for completely different rhythms. Sweet Rain needed long, repeated strokes and steady movement. Children needed thousands of careful dots built slowly across the landscape.
I painted day and night. My son built the frames. Family and neighbours helped wherever they could, and food appeared at the door when no one trusted me to stop long enough to eat.
From first marks to two finished paintings. Unpublished studio photographs supplied by Lizzy.
Sweet Rain in progress in Lizzy Stageman’s studio.
Galingbangbur Children in progress before The Block 2021.
Detailed dot work within Galingbangbur Children.
Sweet Rain and Children completed before delivery to Melbourne.
On 29 April, I sent Georgia another message:
“Two paintings in record time, sealed, framed and ready for delivery. They are so beautiful and I cannot wait for you to see them.”
I felt exhausted, proud and completely wired.
The twelve-hour journey
We loaded the artworks into the car and drove to Melbourne.
When we reached The Block, a full film crew waited. Someone clipped a microphone onto my clothing and told me I would present the paintings on camera.
I laughed and said, “Oh my gosh, I have just driven twelve hours to get here and now you want to film me.”
The crew sent me back to the car so they could capture my arrival properly.
Georgia walked towards me and held out her hand. I looked at her and said, “I have just driven twelve hours. I need a hug.”
She laughed.
“So do I.”
“I have just driven twelve hours. I need a hug.”
We unwrapped the works together. Georgia started crying before she had properly seen them. I read the story behind each painting, and the emotion moved through everyone nearby. Georgia cried. Ronnie grew emotional. Members of the crew wiped tears from their faces.
They told me I had captured exactly what they hoped for, even though we had barely known each other before that week.
I left Melbourne floating. The experience already felt like enough. When I sent my invoice, I didn’t even charge for my time. The chance to create the paintings and share their stories felt like the reward.
After judging, Georgia messaged me. She and Ronnie had missed the win by half a point, but the judges had given the artwork a special mention.
I could not wait to watch the episode.
Marrunga Yubaa Sweet Rain by Lizzy Stageman in Ronnie and Georgia’s hallway on The Block 2021.
The night everything shifted
Five months passed between the delivery and the episode.
We still had renovation work underway at home, so we created a makeshift lounge room, invited a few neighbours over and watched the hallway reveal together.
Nothing prepared me for hearing the judges speak about my work on national television.
Nothing prepared me for the hours that followed either.
Before the episode, around 300 people followed my Instagram account. By the next morning, more than 6,000 people had found me. My phone pinged through the night with messages, new followers and commission enquiries. I kept looking at my husband and asking, “What is happening?”
“Lizzy, are you ready for your life to change? Australia won’t only fall in love with your artwork. They’ll fall in love with you too.”
Sarah, director of The Block Shop
I had wondered how much one television appearance could really change. Then the print orders grew. Commission requests arrived. Radio stations called. Newspapers in Dubbo, Newcastle, Melbourne and Sydney shared the story. My hometown cheered me on, and my commission list stretched to around 18 months.
The Block Shop team later told me the prints from Sweet Rain and Children had become its highest-selling art releases. The scale of the response still feels difficult to explain.
The work opened other doors too. I created pieces for a producer from The Block and someone close to her. Sarah purchased Sweet Rain Spring as soon as I completed it because she wanted first choice from the next body of work. Scotty Cam called me directly to purchase Sweet Rain Autumn, then called again the following year to order a framed When the Dust Settles print.
Georgia kept in touch. Months after the reveal, she messaged me from Scotty’s home and told me one of my artworks hung proudly on his wall. The story had already travelled further than I understood.
The work kept finding its way back
The first appearance changed my life, but my Block story did not end with Ronnie and Georgia’s hallway.
In 2022, the team contacted me after Ankur and Sharon chose Finding My Place for their bathroom. They needed a framed print quickly, so I organised the piece and sent it through. During the reveal, Shaynna Blaze recognised the artwork.
Finding My Place carries a deeply personal story about identity, healing and belonging. Seeing it in the room felt like another quiet sign that the work had started travelling beyond me.
Finding My Place in Ankur and Sharon’s 2022 bathroom. Photography by David Cook Photography.
Later that season, Sarah invited previous Block artists to create a small work for the cottage Scotty Cam renovated alongside the contestants. The artwork needed to respond to the Macedon Ranges and the surrounding landscape.
I created Marrunga Yubaa, On The Ranges. The small green work joined a collection of pieces from artists whose stories had already touched the show. Seeing it in Scotty’s hallway felt like another quiet return.
On The Ranges in Scotty Cam’s 2022 hallway collection. Photography by David Cook Photography.
In 2023, followers started messaging me during auction night. A framed print of the original Sweet Rain appeared briefly in a hallway. No one had contacted me before the episode, so I watched the messages arrive and searched the screen for the glimpse everyone else had noticed.
Even when I did not expect it, the work kept finding its way back.
Sweet Rain returned
In 2024, The Block Shop team contacted me again. Mimi had seen the original Sweet Rain during Ronnie and Georgia’s 2021 reveal and had fallen in love with it.
Mimi messaged me directly to thank me for allowing them to use the work and to tell me how much she and Kristian loved it.
I quickly arranged the print, framing and express delivery to Melbourne.
When the bedroom reveal aired, Sweet Rain held a quiet place beside the bed, carrying the colours and story from 2021 into a completely different home. Kristian and Mimi won Room of the Week.
I loved the full-circle feeling. An artwork created under pressure in my home studio had found another audience three years later because someone remembered how it made her feel.
Sweet Rain in Kristian and Mimi’s 2024 winning bedroom. Photography by David Cook Photography.
The Sweet Rain story continued again in 2025. The team selected A4 mini framed works from the Sweet Rain family for Britt and Taz’s main bedroom and walk-in wardrobe week, including Sweet Rain Spring. I organised the printing and framing, then sent the pieces to Melbourne by express delivery.
Britt and Taz won the room. Orders followed the reveal, and I felt the same rush of gratitude that had carried me through every return.
Sweet Rain and Sweet Rain Spring in Britt and Taz’s 2025 winning room. Photography by David Cook Photography.
Sadly, The Block Shop later closed.
Its closure ended the original sales path, but it could not erase what the relationship had created. The stories continued through homes, messages, collaborations and the people who kept searching for the work.
The story comes home
For the first time, the path back to the two artworks that started everything now begins on my own website. You can see the collection of prints featured on The Block here.
Five years later
Five years after that conversation with my son, I still think about timing.
Georgia had almost given up hope of finding the right artist for her hallway. At the same time, I sat at my computer wondering whether anyone would read an email from an artist who still doubted herself.
My email reached Sarah’s inbox while the team discussed what Georgia could do.
One decision met one moment.
That first email filled me with hope, but the years that followed taught me something deeper. Backing yourself cannot guarantee a particular outcome. It simply gives the possibility somewhere to begin.
Since then, I have tried to move through life with that belief. I put the idea forward. I send the message. I let the work speak. Then I trust that the right connections will find their way to me.
Sweet Rain and Children carry the beginning of that lesson. They hold my love for Country, rain, motherhood, family and the courage I needed during a week that changed everything.
Sweet Rain and Children are now available as 60 × 90 cm limited edition prints, with 25 of each available in this release. These prints have never been offered on my website before.
I hope they continue the story in homes that value the meaning behind them. More than anything, I hope this journey reminds someone else to name the dream, trust the small nudge and send the email anyway.
Because one conversation can change a life.
With love,
Lizzy