New Art & a Free Card

Confession time: I have done very little watercolour art this year. In fact, I went from averaging one new painting a week to a total of five pieces since January.

My painting stopped when our shop closed. I got into a ‘what’s-the-point’ cycle, which is my default response when creative dreams die or hit a roadblock. But this time it should not have happened because painting has always been different for me.

As I’ve said before on this blog, I never set out to paint for anybody but me. It began as a way to speak or to articulate things at a time when words would not come.

I painted what I felt. I painted what I loved. I painted what I needed to. I painted things that meant something to me. And slowly I found my voice again.

Putting my artwork ‘out there’ for sale began very simply with one or two notebooks made purely because I had the art, Naomi and I had the expertise, and because creating and designing books together is one of our favourite things to do. And I have loved and wanted to create notebooks since I was little.

And so I started with the simplest of expectations. If I never sold a single one, I would still have the joy of creating and owning them. And from there, the product range grew, first expanding into my other love, which is art cards, then beyond.

When the shop shut due to unexpected fees from our financial provider, and no new home came to us instead, it was one more failed creative career, and – much to my surprise – my love of painting went with it. It became a struggle to get through the wall of disappointment and failure in order to paint.

That means that somewhere along the way, I must have stopped painting for myself and started painting for the shop. It must have been so subtle, I did not notice. And that also means that somewhere along the way, I took a wrong turn.

I think sometimes when you take a wrong turn and you find yourself lost, you need to go back to the last familiar point. For me, I needed to go back, not to a need to express myself, but to a time of doing art for the pure love of it. A time when I did art that no one saw or knew about. A time where I just got to revel in colour, design, intricacy and beauty. A time of painting patterns.

I have been painting patterns and medieval illuminations in gouache – purely for the love of it – for much longer than I have been doing watercolour illustrations. So I decided to start there. Only this time, I did it with Gansai Tambi or Japanese watercolours – a subtly different paint to traditional watercolours – simply because I was given a set for my birthday.

I’ve finished the William Morris-inspired pattern, my first “proper” painting in many months. Just a little A5 painting. The slow, meticulous, detailed task was just what I needed. And it helped me, at least for now, to push past the wall of resistance. I have called it Indigo Garden.

Do you want a copy?

I have created a free downloadable card, two versions, for personal use. There’s a version with an indigo back, and I’ve also created an ink saver version with a blank/white back. The links are below.

DOWNLOAD. PRINT. TRIM. ENJOY.

INDIGO GARDEN CARD - Indigo back

INDIGO GARDEN CARD - Ink Saver White Back

Note: If you print it and the colours look wildly different from the ones in this post, let me know.

About the Author:

Fiction writer · creative guide · lifelong storyteller … Lisa Saul writes in the quiet spaces between words and paint. For more than twenty years she has worked side by side with her sister Naomi — shaping novels, illustrations, notebooks, and the little studio world behind this blog. A lifelong maker, Lisa has moved through journalism, photography, editing, watercolour, and award-nominated fiction, always returning to the same thread: story. Whether she’s writing a novel, illustrating a notebook, or sharing a moment from her creative life, Lisa brings a thoughtful, honest voice shaped by imagination, experience, and a deep love of helping others grow creatively.