Creative Conversations with Melanie Roach of Husk & Floe

Tell us a bit about yourself…

My name is Melanie and I am a self-taught abstract artist based in Tasmania, Australia. I moved to Tasmania ten years ago with my husband and our (nearly) 10 year old son Cairo. When we are not preoccupied with work, school and the ritual of everyday life, we seek out the cool mountain air, pristine rivers and alpine vegetation indicative of this wild island state. We spend so much time outdoors, we tend to neglect our little suburban backyard and I don’t think I’ve seen the bottom of the wash basket for awhile, but time is a very precious gift and we choose to use it wisely. So much time is taken up driving to and from work, collecting groceries, planning play dates and scrubbing pasta stains out of jumpers, so we make a conscious effort to sprinkle a little pinch of balance into the pot.

Tell us a bit about your creative journey - how did you get to this point?

I grew up in a small country town in Victoria, before moving to the big city to attend University. I spent much of my teens with a pen in hand, crafting obtuse and rather labyrinthine poems, channelling the rebellion and rhythm of beat poets such as Ginsberg and Burroughs. I studied Literature and Art History at University for a time, but it didn’t stick. I abandoned writing, found a desk job and went about enjoying my early twenties. It wasn’t until many years later when Cairo started Kindergarten that the spark of creativity was reignited within me. And it couldn’t have come at a more profound time in my life. It sounds painfully cliche, but it felt like a turning point, where the scales could tip one way or another. I had lost myself in my role as mother and had to reconnect with who I was, outside of my role within the family unit. I needed to seek out opportunities and pathways that would lead toward self- actualisation and awareness. Sitting atop Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, self- actualisation is the ability to reach our full potential and for me art became my chosen means of realising my, as Maslow puts it, ‘potential as manifest in peak experiences which involve the full development of one’s abilities and appreciation for life’ (Maslow, 1962).

Google became my best friend during the early years! I watched process videos and read copious threads on mediums, surfaces, brushes and techniques and I spent a lot of money on said materials. Experimentation is an artist’s greatest ally, for it is by throwing caution to the wind and taking risks, that creative growth is achieved.

Through experimentation, perseverance, play and a great deal of courage (sharing your artwork can be a daunting thing!), I developed my own unique ‘style.’

Can you talk about your work and the ideas behind it - what inspires it?

I describe my work as abstract landscapes, with much emphasis on ‘abstract’, or visual commentaries on my deep emotional and spiritual connection to a space devoid of human presence and impact.

Each piece seeks to capture the raw energy and natural beauty of the Tasmanian wilderness using abstract form. Bold and translucent organic shapes are layered like a bountiful forest; emergent layer, canopy, understory and undergrowth. Intricate details are added with pastel, pencil or pen. My mark making is symbolic/representative of the flora and fauna of this diverse landscape; an ant trail, droplets of water pooling beneath towering sassafras in the cool temperate rainforests in the south, the mesmeric spirals of shell fossils from a nearby cove and the deep indentations of rugged mountain peaks. So much of the wilderness is overcome by the expansion of industry, that such vistas and the experiences therein, become all the more powerful and treasured. My work is an ode to and a celebration of my home. Each mark, each shape and the finished composition have roots in something I have seen or felt within the arms of the wild.

How do you fit your studio practice alongside your everyday life?

I would like to paint everyday. I think about painting everyday and I plan paintings everyday, thinking about colour, shape and composition from the moment I wake up. However, I have a day job, so slotting studio time in around work and after school commitments, is an interesting and challenging predicament. Sometimes I will paint for five or ten minutes before and after work, but most of the time I like to have big blocks of time I can dedicate to my practice. I have one painting day a week and rainy weekends are generally painting days too. As I work in a school I am lucky enough to have school holidays available. What a blessing! One can achieve so much during those blissful two week holidays.

Achieving balance in everyday life kind of feels unattainable sometimes. How do you balance work, parenting, family, friendship, self-care and not to forget all those basic physiological needs like eating and sleeping. And then there are ideas, goals, dreams, aspirations. How do we squeeze all this goodness and responsibility into a mere 24 hour day? I like to think I rebel against structure, routine and lists, but I’ve come to realise I am lost without them. When I have time, I feel that without a list or timetable, I stumble through the hours wondering how best to spend them, and then all of a sudden it is time to cook dinner. So for me, structure is a key component to utilising studio time effectively and wisely when it becomes available. I plan, I map, I make lists, I think about what it is I want to achieve during the session and I make a conscious effort to squash any thoughts around household chores or upcoming activities that may arise during my studio practice. I enter my studio with the knowledge that this time is for me and I leave all the day-to-day stuff at the door.

There is something deeply satisfying about ticking off an item on a ‘to do’ list. It’s that sense of accomplishment, the completion of a task, it’s the act of implementing strategies and practices that work toward achieving long held goals.

In an ideal world my studio practice would flow smoothly and effortlessly, but life is full of spice, and such spice often presents itself as interruptions from an array of sources. Just as I make a conscious effort to keep thoughts of ‘I should be doing this’ or ‘I should be doing that,’ at bay, so too must I refrain from allowing frustration and impatience to dampen my creative flow. I am a mother and I am a wife, just as I am an artist, but all can coexist in as harmonious a manner as my attitude will allow. It all comes back to balance and knowing that it’s okay to take time out for yourself and your passions in life.

I recently came across this golden quote from actor/comedian/screenwriter/producer and creative powerhouse John Cleese. He said ‘Nothing will stop you being creative more effectively as the fear of making a mistake.’ I’m sure this resonates quite deeply with many people, as we all experience uncertainty and fear-based fatigue before taking that agonising, yet ultimately rewarding, leap into the unknown. Learning to take risks, engaging in creative play and taking time with my practice, hasn’t come naturally to me and I have worked diligently to overcome these barriers. Impatience has also been a roadblock for me as I tend to want results quite quickly and thus have muddied many a piece over the years. These roadblocks have been a blessing. Whether it’s a creative block, impatience with a piece, fear about making a mistake, resistance to taking creative risks or whether it’s simply a case of self- doubt, such challenges help to shape and strengthen the creative process.

The creative journey is like taking a train ride to an unknown destination. It’s exciting, it’s an adventure and you just know you will see some wondrous things along the way, but there is also a healthy amount of apprehension, indecision, fear and maybe a little ‘I don’t know what I am doing’ too. But it’s rewarding, it’s insightful, it’s magical and it’s fulfilling in so many wonderful ways. Connecting with people through art has been and continues to be both heart warming and smile inducing.

What’s your best advice you’d give other artists?

Let go and play. As Maya Angelou said, ‘You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.’ Spread paint around the page, grab a sketchbook and seek out spaces that fuel your imagination, experiment with materials and techniques, look within and take time to think about your ideas, write them down and bring them to life. You don’t need to use expensive art gear to be an artist. You don’t need to be selling your paintings in a gallery to be an artist. You don’t have to amass a 100K Instagram following to be an artist. You don’t have to paint like other people to be an artist. You don’t have to go to art school to be an artist and you certainly do not have to create every day to be an artist. You just have to be you. And you just have to let go of the self-doubt, the comparison and the tendency to impose conditions on what you create and how often you create. Because the only thing that truly matters, the only thing that really counts, is how it makes you feel.

Henry Matisse was certainly correct in saying ‘Creativity takes courage,’ but the rewards are truly endless.

Can you talk a bit about the materiality of your work? How does the materials you use affect your process?

I have to admit I find it incredibly hard to visit an art store without buying a bagful of wonderful treasures. Whether it’s pastels, pencils, gouache, ink, flow acrylics, charcoal, cold pressed watercolour paper, linen canvas or posca pens, I buy an assortment of goodies every time I step through the doors.

Experimenting with materials is an ongoing process for me. New materials offer the chance to produce unexpected results and above all else, it’s fun. There must always be an element of fun when creating, otherwise it tends to become monotonous and unfulfilling. And it comes back to being brave with your work, taking risks and finding different ways of telling your story. If I find I am getting stuck with my work, I reach for something I haven’t used for a while, maybe heavy body acrylics, or even chalky pastels, just to freshen up my work and help get back into the creative zone.

My current obsession is Holbein Acrlya Gouache and Saunders Waterford cold pressed watercolour paper. The texture of the paper combined with the gouache wash, allows me to create abstract landscapes using the tones, patterns and shapes I see in the wilderness.

I’m curious, after studying writing and poetry, how does it interact with your art now?

Words have always fascinated me, the way they can be strung together like bunting to communicate, educate, entertain and bewilder. After Cairo was born, the written word was relegated to the ‘lost love’ category. My brain was occupied by thoughts of cloth nappies, mashed pumpkin and pining for catch up naps.

I am convinced the change in focus and priority during that period of time gave my creative brain the chance to refuel. Though I didn’t dive back into the writing and reading of poetry, words in general still play a pivotal role in my creative process today. I find I have titles for artworks long before the brush has impressed itself upon paper or canvas. The use of individual words as titles, often related to the natural world, has become a key component of the planning and construction phase. I try to harness the power and strength of a chosen word, as I create the work.

We all know from our playground days how powerful words can be. Some words can sting so deeply they stay with us well into adulthood. Whilst some words when sung together in ballads, pop anthems, rap music and folk tunes, have the power to inspire and motivate. Song lyrics have become my poetry I guess. My studio is always full of music when I am in the creative zone. For me words and visual art go hand in hand.