The email that changed things
I remember exactly where I was when I found out I was a finalist in the Feel Good Art Prize 2025. I read the email twice because I genuinely thought they'd made a mistake. Then I sat there for about ten minutes just… breathing. That's the only way I can describe it. I just needed to sit with it.
It wasn't about the prize itself — though having my work exhibited at Quadrant Gallery in Hawthorn was incredible. It was the feeling of being seen. Someone looked at my work and thought: yes, this belongs here. This is good enough to stand alongside other artists' work in a gallery. That meant everything.
Then it happened again
A few weeks later, I was named an online finalist in the Revival Gallery Emerging Artist Prize 2025. At that point I almost laughed — not because it was funny, but because it felt surreal. Two prizes. Two groups of people who'd never met me, who had no reason to be kind, who just looked at the painting and said yes.
That's the thing about recognition when you're starting out. You don't need thousands of followers or a gallery waiting list. You just need one moment where someone outside your circle says: I see what you're doing, and it matters.
The first sale
But honestly? The feeling that got me the most wasn't the prizes. It was my first sale.
Someone I'd never met chose to spend their money on something I'd made with my hands. They wanted to hang it in their home and look at it every day. They didn't buy it because they knew me or wanted to support me. They bought it because the painting made them feel something.
I cried. I'm not going to pretend I didn't. It was this overwhelming rush of — I don't even know what to call it. Validation? Relief? Joy? All of it at once.
Why I'm sharing this
I share this because I think a lot of artists wait for permission to take themselves seriously. They think they need a certain number of sales or followers or exhibitions before they're "real." I get it. I felt that way too.
But here's what I've learned: the work speaks for itself. If you make something with intention and put it out there with honesty, the right people will find it. You don't need to be everywhere. You just need to be somewhere — making work that's true.
I'm still at the beginning. But these moments — the prizes, the sales, the collectors who write to say a painting made them smile — they remind me I'm on the right path. And that's enough to keep going.