Sippin' & Paintin'

At the end of last year, I knew I wanted to take my art in a slightly different direction.

I love painting, and I'm still amazed whenever someone buys one of my pieces. The thought of my artwork hanging in somebody's living room boggles my mind. But by the end of 2025, I wanted to do more than create art of my own. I wanted to show other people how wonderful it can feel to paint and be creative and how good it can be for your mind.

Painting has helped me with my mental health over the years, and I'm always the best version of myself when I'm creating. And I want to help others feel the same.

“But I can’t even draw a straight line”, I hear this all the time. Or it’ll be “I can't even draw a circle. There's no way I could paint."

But here's the thing, you don't need to draw a perfect line or circle to paint. I can't do either particularly well and I don't need to.

I'm not an engineer or an architect. I don't have to draw everything in proportion or to scale. Nothing bad is going to happen if things are a little wonky.

For me, painting is about the process rather than the finished product. It brings me peace and clarity, and gives me a safe place to experiment. Your painting doesn't need to be "perfect" to be worthwhile.

So, I decided I wanted to run painting workshops, and my friends kept encouraging me to host a Sip & Paint event. At the end of January, I created a poster and then avoided making any actual plans because I was scared.

I convinced myself that no venue would want to host it. Before I'd even contacted anyone, my brain had already written the story. I'd send a message and be told to f*ck off. I know that sounds ridiculous, but my mind has a habit of jumping straight to the worst-case scenario.

By March, I'd found the perfect venue: Jake's in Cardigan. I love the atmosphere there, the candles, the cocktails and the food. But because I was frightened of rejection, I was still too nervous to enquire.

Then, in April, I finally plucked up the courage and sent Jake a message. Within a few hours, he replied.

It was a yes!

I had a venue, but then a new worry appeared. Would anybody actually buy a ticket?

My friends and family kept telling me I'd be good at hosting a Sip & Paint, but I wondered whether they were like those families on Britain's Got Talent who haven't been honest with their loved one about whether they're actually any good.

I updated the little poster that had been sitting in Canva since January, added tickets to my website and went for it. I posted the event on Instagram, and suddenly it was out there in the world.

It sold out in two days.

I hadn't even had time to get the posters printed.

About six weeks later, I hosted my first Sip & Paint. I was absolutely terrified.

For at least 48 hours afterwards, I had major impostor syndrome. Who does she think she is, trying to teach people to paint?

This might be controversial, but I'm not particularly interested in teaching the "proper" techniques of art. I think you should follow your gut. For me, it's still all about the process.

My Sip & Paint events offer guests two and a half hours to sit down, put their phones away and keep their hands and minds busy while creating their own paintings. I lead a step-by-step demonstration, but everyone is encouraged to trust their intuition and make the painting their own.

I've lost count of how many people have told me they felt nervous before coming or warned me that they weren't creative.

But I believe we're all creative. Sometimes, we just need to dig a little deeper, find that creativity and give ourselves permission to let it out.

Some guests have bought paints and canvases after attending. Others have dug old art supplies out of the attic and started painting again. Seeing that happen is exactly why I wanted to run these events.

I'm on a mission to make the world more creative. For now, we're starting in Cardigan, Wales.

I'll take on the rest of the world another day.