A Pocketful of Studio Things: December
As you might expect, December has been a bit of a whirlwind, even here and I’ve been flat out like a lizard drinking.
A scan from one of my art school journals - seriously I cannot understate how handy it is to have all of my notes from those years easily accessible!
Despite the standard chaos of the festive season, between visits from dear friends and family and also preparing to literally build our own house - I’ve found little moments in the studio. Sitting down and taking the time to scribble and paint has been a wonderful interlude and oasis amongst the flurry of activity that is December.
My little studio space continues to develop as I’ve finally unpacked the last of the moving boxes that contained my art materials - there have been countless sweet little reunions with older artworks and journals as they’re unpacked and placed lovingly in their new homes. The ability to pull out an art journal from 2019 to look up an artist I can’t quite remember the name of and find my notes and analysis of their work has been already so helpful - a real boost to my flow of work and planning.
In the spirit of embracing the ebbs and flows of whimsy, the studio has been quickly flitting between various projects this month. In spite of the short story I wrote myself last month, to help guide my work, (the one that inspired The Secret Garden painting and a few other pieces this month and last) I’ve been giving myself permission to work on other things as the desire strikes.
Magic in the making
One of these flights of fancy has me exploring a fantastical world in which fungi are mobile and sentient in ways that we can recognise. The little guys are firmly entrenched in their networks, their communities - their strange rituals and wild customs.
Their energy and mischevious attitudes grabbed hold of my imagination the moment I began to noodle on what their tiny bodies might look like, whether they would have recognizable mouths, eyes, or even other humanoid features and the fascination (perhaps hyperfocus) hasn’t yet let go. The world, as I see it in my own mind, leans towards the tenets of close knit community, euphoric ceremony, and has hints (stay tuned) of folk horror.
Stay tuned for updates from the mycelial network. They’re my favourite lil’ guys right now.
It has been a long while since the watercolours and gouache paints have seen the light of day - even whilst I was in art achool, I focussed on printmaking, drawing and sculpture. Diving back into it was daunting to say the least! There are countless sheets and pages of paper covered in the evidence of this anxiety - mark making, practice forming the mushroomy shapes, layering colour and working with glazes and washes of colour. I think it was work all the trial and error!
This is also the first artwork I’ve signed using the name nearlytuna - a nickname that I’ve used in my community and online spaces for some years now. It feels wonderful to bring together all of these aspects of my identity - my creativity and my community are inexplicably linked. It’s very affirming to finally have my worlds collide and coalesce in this way.
mycelial rites (2025) is now available as a digital download - physical prints are coming soon.
nearlytuna (2025) mycelial rites, original gouache, watercolour and graphite on watercolour paper, 14.8 cm × 21.0 cm
Amongst all of this, I somehow managed to get an order out for a few sticker designs and I’ve trialled the local printer for fine art and postcard prints of The Secret Garden, Pīwakwaka and the above mycelial rites.
The listings for physical prints have been created though I’m still waiting for my sticker order to arrive so I can stock those listings too, but the good news is they will be available by mid January.
Here’s a little sneak peak of these beautiful holographic stickers!
Next up
On the table right now is the next in this mycelial exploration, a so far unnamed and unnerving fungal tribute to our old mate Francisco Goya (1746 - 1828). Goya was a romantic painter and printmaker from Spain in the 18th and 19th centuries and is largely considered as one of the most important artists of his era. After a stint as the Court Painter for the reign of Charles IV in 1789 he was beset by a mystery illness which left him deaf and drew him into a deep melancholy, and this unfortunate decline is made obvious within his paintings and other works from this time.
I was lucky enough to see some of these prints in person at the 2020 Art Gallery of South Australia exhibition: The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters, a collection of works from Goya, Albrecht Durër, Odilon Redon and many others. This exhibition and these artists continue to haunt and influence the way I think about my own artwork even now.
A New Zine!
Also on the desk, is the first zine design I’ve worked on since at least 2020. A short 8 page mini formed from a cut and folded single A4 sheet of paper. This is one of those projects I pick away at slowly - combining digital painting and analgoue drawing in it’s design and creation. The beauty of A4 8 page zines is that they’re intended for a simple photocopy/print process - something I can scan, edit, print, fold and cut from home if needed.
Zines and zine swaps are one of my favourite bits of queer/disabled history that rose initially from 1930’s sci-fi and horror fan zines and 1960’s Dada self published magazines. From these early zines they became a symbol of DIY movements as well as punk and feminist cultures.
Modern zines at large continue in this fashion, they’re a relatively niche medium for marginalized voices. They often feature themes of activism, visual art, queer and disabled care and joy or struggles and are often present at festivals, digital platforms and are often swapped between artists and makers. If you’re interested in learning a little more, you can read further about the rise and impact of zine culture here.
Most of all though, I’m writing to wish you all a wonderful and safe holiday season, be it in freezing temperatures or the soaring Australian summer! We’ve been taking a few days to get out the smoker, indulge in some well earned treats and relaxing in the comfort of the hot tub, between beginning to build our house, hauling planks and pouring concrete.
Sending all my love, well wishes and abundant whimsy your way for a bright and fanciful New Year ahead. Your support means the absolute world to me!
Going to stir the cauldron, back before midnight,
nearlytuna.
- Follow the Whimsy!