“While painting these women for a hotel collection, I realized I was not painting three different women at all. I was painting parts of myself — and perhaps parts of all women.”
Sometimes, as an artist, the journey of a painting becomes part of its story.
The Three Sisters Collection began quietly while I was in Canada — in moments between adjusting to new surroundings, dreaming of the future, and carrying the familiar ache of building a life between two countries.
Half of these women were painted there.
Perhaps that is why they feel layered with emotion to me. They were created during a season of transition — between homes, between landscapes, between who I had been and who I am becoming.
The sisters slowly emerged in my studio space abroad.
The strong, motherly sister — steady and quietly carrying others.
The romantic dreamer — soft-hearted and hopeful, still believing in beauty and love.
And the grounded sister — drawn to stillness, mountains, water, and the quiet healing nature offers.
Yet somewhere while painting them, I realised something unexpected:
I was not simply painting three women.
I was painting pieces of womanhood itself.
And perhaps, pieces of myself too.
Because don’t we all carry a little of each sister within us?
The one who holds everything together.
The one who longs and dreams.
The one who quietly escapes to nature to find herself again.
When it was time to fly home to South Africa, I carefully packed the paintings — protective, hopeful, and perhaps a little nervous. These sisters had travelled with me emotionally, and now they would travel physically too.
Or so I thought.
When I landed, the paintings didn’t.
Instead, they remained behind at Amsterdam Airport.
Somewhere between continents.
Somewhere between Canada and home.
I remember the nervousness vividly — wondering whether they were safe, whether something precious had been lost in transit. There is something vulnerable about artwork. It carries hours, emotion, memory, and pieces of your spirit.
Waiting felt endless.
And then, a few days later, they arrived safely in George, back to my studio.
Home.
There was something strangely fitting about it all.
Because these sisters, too, feel like women in transit — carrying longing, resilience, hope, and the quiet search for belonging.
Perhaps that is why this collection feels so personal to me.
They crossed oceans.
And in a way, so did I.
The Three Sisters Collection is not only about three women.
It is about the many women we become — sometimes strong, sometimes soft, sometimes quietly searching for ourselves again.
And perhaps, in the end, learning that all those women have belonged within us all along.
There are seasons as an artist where you realise you are not simply painting a subject… you are painting something deeper.
Over the last while, I have been immersed in creating The Three Sisters — a collection exploring three feminine spirits:
the one who carries,
the one who dreams,
and the one who quietly returns to herself through nature.
As I painted, I found myself wondering… don’t we all carry a little of each sister within us?
The motherly one — strong, capable, the one everyone leans on.
The romantic dreamer — soft-hearted, hopeful, still believing in love.
The grounded one — seeking peace, healing, and moments of stillness in nature.
And perhaps, in quiet moments, we secretly wish we could borrow something from the others.
This journey has become more than a collection for me. It has become a reflection on womanhood, longing, strength, softness, and returning home to ourselves.
I cannot wait to share more of these sisters with you.
Which sister speaks to you most right now?
