Welcome to the monoseum. I'm Ellen Jenkinson. I am originally from Sydney. I got married really young and then that didn't work out. So I have a very young first wives club of women that are all in their late to early twenties. And at that time I moved to Melbourne. So I lived in Melbourne for about five years and really went for my art during that time. I was around a really interesting bunch of people and also at the same time went really into my branding and marketing world. And then I met my now husband and had tapped out of the city life and was feeling pretty drained and we moved to Yamba, which was a really weird shift to make from Melbourne to a really small country town. And I didn't expect that to be as challenging as it was.

I went from being used to going for wines every day of the week to living somewhere where there was one wine shop and it was open every second Tuesday. So I struggled a bit there. But we felt pregnant with my first child and then we decided to travel Australia in a caravan and then made a bit of a whoopsie and made a second baby and then realized we really needed to find a house because the caravan was already feeling small with one baby and there was another one coming. So we ended up in Lismore Heights, which was a beautiful time there and really practical because the hospital was so close. And then we've just moved to Lenoxette, which is feeling sort of the most at home I think I've felt in about a decade, which feels really special. And yeah, just enjoying a simpler life and my practice.

It started with these really safe lessons with my mum. I don't take constructive feedback very well and my husband knows that. We've been out surfing together a few times and I just hate feedback. I don't know why with her it never felt like that, which is interesting to reflect on. She must have done a really good job at making it not feel like that and she's very similar, so I think she was probably very conscious of not doing anything that she wouldn't want. Very young, from a very young age, I just have really clear memories of being in the backyard with her and painting, and yeah, I guess just having freedom to play and explore with some sort of safe feedback or advice maybe it was.

And I loved that because I found whenever I did it with her, it always turned out a lot better, which is a testament to her. And that was just a really special time. But I think at the same time it was challenging because I felt like she was so good and I'm a seven, eight-year-old comparing myself to a 30-something-year-old woman who studied art. But I remember being really scared of painting then without her because I would see her work on the walls and sort of be like, oh, I could never do that. But something really beautiful that came out of that was I remember in one of the lessons, she said one of the hardest things about art is knowing when to stop.

And I thought about that so much and that was what I really struggled with was whenever I would do something, there would be a point that I was like, oh, I love it. I love how it's looking. And then I do more and more and more and I'm like, damn, it sucks now. And that was a really big challenge. And I think why I love this piece so much that I've chosen is I think it's probably the first time in paint specifically that I felt like I put down the palette knives and was like, I think we're done here. And I really thought of her in that moment. And I guess it felt like a sense of maturity in my art that I hadn't felt before.

My art practice today is not very prominent, I guess. I've got two very young children that need a lot from me. And I'm kind of leaning into that at the moment because that's just my life. And there's so much beauty in that. When my first was born, I felt this pressure suddenly to do more art than I'd ever done in these tiny little windows that I had, which I think was probably me just not being used to doing not a lot. And I wasn't doing my usual work in branding and marketing, so I must do art.

I look back on that and I'm like, you silly woman, you should have just slept or showered or made some eggs or done anything else. And I didn't enjoy that, I was like, why am I doing this, and I didn't like what I was making. So I kind of was just like, it's okay to not do that right now. But it also was like a moment where I felt this has now become really important because I felt like mum had so much talent and was so incredible, and for whatever reason, whether it was because she needed to provide for our family and didn't feel like art was a way that she could do that, but I never saw her do a show or do something where I could be really proud of her in front of lots of people.

And it felt like she had a lot of limiting beliefs around her ability, which I definitely have as well. But I just thought, I've got these two little kids now, and how cool for them to see their mum be an artist, and maybe they'll be like, oh, that's so lame, like mum's work sucks, but I thought that's a pretty cool thing that I could do for them. Um, is show them, you know, that art, music, whatever it might be in that world, is something that you can pursue, and it doesn't just have to be a hobby.

Because I did also try and do art at one point, um, for other people, so commissions and things like that, and that is not for me. I really didn't like someone wanting to adapt how a leg was or this was or that was, and it felt like a weird mesh between what I'd experienced in sort of graphic design and marketing and copywriting, which I am okay with. I'm okay, I'm getting better at feedback in those areas, um, but I didn't want that on my art.

So yeah, today there's a definite pin in the art for me, but it's coming back slowly. And I mean, that looks like just setting up a space, even which feels, I guess, if you've been through the early stages of parenthood, any time to do anything is minimal. And so to kind of be like, okay, I've got an hour where I don't have a little barnacle on my boob or a kid running after me, I can just start to create this space that will be the space I create in.

And that's really important for me, is, I guess, part of the practice is being able to just walk in, sit down, and do something, and the least less resistance there is to that, the easier. So if everything's packed away in the cupboard and the paper's over there and I don't have a chair or whatever, it's not going to happen. So that's kind of where I'm at right now, is the setup phase, which doesn't feel like much of a practice or a process, but I'm getting there, and I'm really excited for, I guess, from here on out.

It feels like time is just starting to come back to me more and more. I've sort of just reached that little point where Pippa, my youngest, she's nine months now, um, I can just feel okay, I had two hours away from her and she didn't need me, and that's only going to start getting more and more. And yeah, I'm kind of really excited to use that time to kind of dip into something a bit more.

I think that's what I need for art as well, is I always have a big set of headphones and music, and I can really just laser focus on one thing. So yeah, I'm looking forward to that coming back. But yeah, it's not really existent at this point in time. But showcasing this work is kind of also the beginning of that. You know, they're so little and probably won't remember it, but I'm like, okay, this is kind of honouring what I said that I wanted to do, is, you know, in their mind somewhere, in my oldest at least, can be like, mum's an artist, or mum does art.

That's a little piece in his brain. So this piece, um, I said a little bit earlier, yeah, it felt like the first time I was able to stop and know when to stop, and that felt really big. Um, but I did it with just palette knives and oil paint, which is two things I've never worked with, and it was a really low stakes artwork, which I think my husband and I talk about this all the time, that I feel like the less amount of importance you put on something, the more likely it is to go your way, and the more pressure you put on it, the less likely it is.

Which is a bit morbid, but just seems to be how my life has worked. So I didn't sit down and be like, I'm gonna do this oil painting, it's gonna be amazing. I just was like, I'm just gonna play around with oil and these little palette knives that I got, and kind of see what happens, and I'll most likely do nothing with it. But it just sort of worked, and I didn't have a reference, I didn't have anything, I wasn't trying to create shadow here because the light's hitting here.

I just did it, and kind of stepped back, and was like, wow, I really like this. Um, and yeah, that just felt so cool, um, to be proud of something, and to kind of, I don't know, want to show it, I guess, cause there's so much that I have that I'm just like, absolutely not. Um, and yeah, there wasn't a lot of thought that went into it. I was in a little cabin in Nashua in an Airbnb. I think I just met James a couple days prior. Maybe that's a big part of it.

And yeah, I just went for it. And it doesn't really fit into my work at all. I basically exclusively work with charcoal and pencil, and do these kind of abstracted versions of female form. And that's kind of, I've almost pigeonholed myself in that a little bit. Cause I sort of had them for sale for a while, and people really liked them. And then I kind of was like, Oh, how do I get out of this now? Cause people just want these charcoal sketches.

But I guess that's what it's all about, is creating for yourself and not other people. But yeah, this one absolutely doesn't fit in, it's a total outlier, and I really like that about it. And I like that, I guess, in there, there is a whole series, like I can see when I can sit down again in silence and peace, um, I want to try again, and that's like quite a scary thought too, but I am really excited about that, um, to kind of see, is there a world where Ellen can do more oil, or was this a total happy accident?

So we'll find out. A piece of advice I would give to someone, I feel very funny about that, because I feel so not deep in an art career to sort of feel like I could, but I guess I can only speak to what I've experienced. And that would be maybe two things, or you said one thing, but basically, to just have fun, and to play. I think of probably the two times in my life where art was the most prevalent thing, and I was the most absorbed in it, was when I was 17, I just decided I'm an artist, and um, I got my first tattoo, which says art on my wrist in terrible wonky writing.

But I think it's so funny, it was like such a specific reason, and I was like this is so important, and this is how I want to feel, and this is what I want to do. And life's going to happen, and I know all these things are going to happen in my life, and it's going to be easy to slip away from art, and it's going to be easy for it to become the hobby, but you have to do it. Like that was me, like making this little promise to myself at 17, which seems so crazy, but it's interesting now to look at this terrible tattoo at 33, and kind of, I do look, and I'm like, wow, so much has happened in that time.

I've been married, I've been divorced, I've got two kids, I've got a new husband, I've moved all over the place, um, and I'm now, you know, I've worked in branding and marketing and copywriting, I studied two degrees. Like it's so silly to have done, not silly, but I've done all these things, and now I'm coming back to it, and it's kind of just like it happened when I guess it was meant to.

And in those times where I was really embodying it, and I remember someone introducing me to some new group of people for the first time, and they said, oh, this is Ellen, she's from Sydney, she's an artist. I was like, oh, am I? Like I'm an artist, and I still feel that way now when I hear it, I'm like, wow, that's so cool. So in those times, I was just creating so much work with such low stakes, and like I remember when I went to Melbourne for the first time, I was just leaving artwork in cafes and bathrooms and all over the place, and I was just a hundred percent it, um, without, for whatever reason, at those times, I didn't have those limiting beliefs, or the fear of what if someone judges me, or perceives me, or thinks this, or thinks that.

I was just like, I'm an artist, like I'm doing it, and there was just so much play in there, and freedom, and fun, which I guess probably comes back to how I felt, you know, in the backyard with mum, was just exploring, and playing, and these works were never going to go anywhere, even though a lot of them are still framed in mum and dad's house, and all those things. But yeah, it was just, I was just not cutting myself off anywhere, I just was so absorbed in it, which then, at other times in my life, has seemed so hard to do.

Like I just couldn't even fathom it, so I'm trying to, I guess, come back into that play now. And then the other thing was, yeah, just there's a book that I cannot remember the name of, by an author that I cannot remember the name of, and a quote that I cannot remember properly, but the idea was, whatever your creative pursuit is, you should move, physically move yourself to where it is the most prevalent. And the quote is something like, put your ass where your art is, or something like that. (Note: Ellen is referring to (link: https://stevenpressfield.com/books/put-your-ass-where-your-heart-wants-to-be/ text: "Put Your Ass Where Your Heart Wants to Be" by Steven Pressfield))

I should remember the name of the author, but that was what I did, was, you know, moving to Melbourne, and going down to Melbourne, for me, at that time, that's where it felt like it was all happening. And yeah, just being surrounded by lots of people just doing art was so, just made it seem possible, I guess, where in Sydney, in the circles I was moving in, that wasn't what was happening.

And in Melbourne, everyone had jobs, but then they also had their thing that they did as well, which was art, music, startups, brands, whatever. And I think, yeah, if you can, and if you're in the place that you can, is you have like physically putting yourself in, like the mecca of whatever it is. Because I think, when I then moved to Yamba, there was not a lot happening there, and that in that world, and that felt really weird, like you just sort of, I guess, you're inspired by what's happening around you, and it just felt like it was then slipping away further and further.

The song I have chosen is called How Was It For You by Snowy White, and um, it's on one of my art playlists that I have, and it's just quite a long song, and there's only one tiny little verse of lyrics, there's maybe 50 words in the whole song, right at the end, and it's mostly just about the guitar. But I kind of love that, because to me, it sort of feels like the artwork, it was on when I was painting it, and I had it on a loop, and it's like the musician could have so easily added more lyrics, and felt the need to create a quote-unquote song, but he didn't, he just put this one little tiny almost spoken verse right at the end, which is so strange, but it kind of to me, I guess, feels like the artwork, in the sense that when you step back from it, it's this one little piece, but it's so powerful, and it's just perfect as it is, and I really love that.