Why I Stopped Making Art

This is the story of why I stopped making art for years and how I rediscovered my passion. I’m not juggling it perfectly and haven’t given up the day job. Maybe you can relate.

Artist filmmaker Katie Goodwin & son filming The Morrow, 2016. Photo by Ann-Marie James

The hurdles
There were multiple hurdles that broke my stride. The biggest leap was the arrival of my son. I adored him from the start, but nothing prepared me for how his birth altered everything.

Before he was born there were warning signs.  A mentoring session with a male director of a blue-chip gallery queried a career as a female artist, suggesting that into my 30s I was getting a bit old. I dismissed it as sexist nonsense. The late and brilliant Phyllida Barlow, mother of 4 and at the time 70, had just filled the Duveen Gallery in Tate Britain with her epic adhoc creations. If she could do it, why couldn’t I?

Pre-child: Hustling artist life
After my MFA at Wimbledon in 2011, things took off: New Contemporaries, a prize, residencies, commissions and exhibitions in world-class institutions. It wasn’t easy. I juggled art with freelance film work to survive, scraping together grants, £100 exhibition fees and the occasional commission, all whilst living in a mouldy flat-share in London.

In 2014, I escaped and took a residency in a dreamy work-live studio in Helsinki and created new work, supported by grants. In 2015, while pregnant, I toured several solo and duo shows across the UK on a shoestring budget. My career was looking up and then it all changed.

puma.flab.sandwiches Katie Goodwin, Oil painting on canvas board (framed), 33x28cm, 2025

Mama artist: The crash
As a mother, the old hustle didn’t work. I took my son to shows and was floored by the lack of empathy from some mothers. At an install, a curator and mother of 3, asked, “Why isn’t he in childcare?” I wasn’t getting paid; he was 5 months old and still on breast milk.

I’d crowdfunded an art film while pregnant and promised funders prints and a screening. With help from friends and family, I finished filming. But editing with a baby was challenging, working in 45-minute bursts, when I could.

When my child was 9 months, he went into day care for 1 then 2 days a week so I was finally able to settle into a rhythm editing. Now no longer receiving Maternity Allowance my bank account was in the red. My son’s dad covered childcare costs and pushed me to find paid work. The film industry had full-time roles, requiring long shifts, neither of which I could do. I wasn’t ready to hand over my baby to a stranger full-time, especially at astronomical cost.

Fading out
My tiny studio was a luxury I could no longer afford. I spent child-free days editing the film, The Morrow, in cafes and went to a print studio. I felt like part of an artist community again.

The Morrow took 18-months to complete. Originally about settlements lost to the sea, it ended up exploring how civilisations collapse. It was filmed just after Brexit and Britain felt divided. The project burned me out, leading me to take a break from long video projects.

I kept exhibiting widely, often not being able to go to the shows as no travel costs and accommodation were offered and artist fees, already minimal, seemed to evaporate. I didn’t have the time or energy to apply for grants. The strain affected my relationship. I lost confidence, racked up credit card debt, and began to believe the toxic idea that if your art doesn’t make money, it’s simply a hobby.

Mum & Baby in Cloudscape, Hardground etching on paper, 30x21cm, 2018 (Detail)

Small comebacks
Then I had a win. My son was 18 months old and I found paid work again, thanks to a film producer and mum, offering me a part-time role. Then I got another freelance job. It wasn’t a flood, but finally I had a consistent income again.

In 2018 I got a new studio at the Bomb Factory and, with my son in childcare a few days a week, slowly I was making again. Life was still interrupted by paid film gigs and childcare, but at least I was back in a studio.

In 2019, my relationship with my son’s dad ended. Sometimes things are for the best.

2020: Another blow
Then Covid hit. I lost all work again, wasn’t eligible for furlough, and survived on next to nothing and spiralled into more debt. I got a full-time film job in late 2020, where I’ve been since. The job ultimately put the brakes on my art.

Artist Katie Goodwin with her Ice cream fridge painting puma.flab.sandwiches at Royal Academy Summer Show 2025. Photo by Helen Barff.

The comeback
Then, over Christmas 2023, a new puppy curled at my feet, I picked up a brush. One painting became 3 in quick succession. My art mojo was back!

I now have 50 new paintings in my archive and had my first 2 shows in years this spring. One piece even made it into the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition, inspired by a photo I took when my son was in his buggy. The circle of life!

I’ve stopped making moving image work for now. I limit screen time beyond my week at the computer for my day job. I have more supporters behind me, one of the loudest being my 9-year-old son, who I often paint with.

Final thoughts
If you’ve stopped making art, but still feel the itch – give yourself permission to begin again. Allow yourself a morning or an evening every week. Make a little space. Write it in your calendar. Be consistent. Do it for you.

Thrills, Spills & Bellyaches

The last few weeks have been full of thrills, spills and bellyaches and I’ve finally been able to find some time to step back into it and write this.

Over the Easter break, with my 9 year old son by my side, I caught the train to Sheffield, where I was having my first show in over three years, exhibiting two new vintage postcards in an exhibition titled The View at The Fronteer Gallery. The weather was glorious and we found time to visit other arts venues I’ve exhibited in a few years back. A real ego boost. Then came the bellyache! The next day Indy came down with a vomiting bug, putting the brakes on our plans for a bike ride in the sunshine.

Part of Auto Amor show, Auto Amor, Kent, April 2025. Photography by Jayson Lilley

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Auto Amor Project Volume 1, Auto Amor Gallery.

When life returned to some semblance of normality, Ripley and I took a trip down to Dutton Green in Kent for the opening of the Auto Amor mystery painting exhibition. She was a trooper, especially as the trains were rerouted, complicating what should have been a relatively simple journey.

Anonymity was the theme behind Auto Amor. 50 artists received a blank canvas a fortnight before the exhibition in the post and had to return in time for the show with their impressions. No pressure, especially given oil paints take a while to dry! Thankfully my effort made it in on time and all works were displayed anonymously in the new gallery, which was converted from an old mechanics workshop. You can see all the works in the show here and maybe send me a message if you want to guess mine. Thanks to the friends who came along to the opening and no, they couldn’t spot my work.
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After that thrill, came what was to become the predictable spill when my son went to hospital for an operation. It was a success, but his movement was restricted in convalescence and it took him a few weeks to recover. And just when there was light at the end of the tunnel, he took a nasty tumble in the school playground, so back to hospital. Don’t fight it, you just gotta ride that rollercoaster right? Thankfully he’s on the mend now and was able to help me construct my new stand up desk from which I’m writing this missive from.

Artist Katie Goodwin with some of her recent Scuzzy Landscape paintings, London 2025. Photo by Tom Trevatt


Royal Academy Summer Exhibition​
Ending on a thrill, at the start of June I got an email from the RA saying they had accepted one of my paintings for the summer exhibition running from 17th June to 17th August. I was told 18,000 artworks had been submitted, so another ego boost.
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The painting is named puma.flab.sandwiches which is the what3words location of an indoor sports venue near Heidelberg, Germany. When I took the photo that inspired this painting, I was pushing my sleeping baby in a pram, where I was circling the football pitches in my battle to get my especially wired child in that moment to sleep. I can still recall the pungent smell of the rubber pitches. As a new mum, I was finding it increasingly hard to carve out time to create art so I took pictures as an instant form of sketching and remembrance. This photo eventually turned into a painting nine years later! If you’re going to the RA show, my piece is in Room VII.
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​REJECTS show​
Oh and one more quick loop the loop. An unwelcome part of the life of an artist is the rejections from countless applications. The gallery Art Friend has turned this negative reality into a positive by making a show out of rejected works. Only one out of two of my paintings got into the RA hsow and so the rejected one my Skip in the Sky painting will be showing at REJECTS exhibition at Stokey Pop up on Stoke Newington High Street opening on 3rd July. To view the painting on their site and more details of the show​
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Also thank you to photographer Tom Trevatt who took some fantastic photos of me in the studio a few weeks ago.
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Thanks for reading and here’s to more thrills, spills and bellyaches…

Auto Amor Project show, Kent

Excited to reveal the lineup of artists for the inaugural Auto Amor Project exhibition! Join us for an afternoon of art, tea, coffee, and light bites as we unveil the works at our gallery in Dunton Green on Saturday, April 12, from 1–3 PM.

About the project: Each artist was given a panel to create work anonymously—stripping away names and expectations to embrace pure artistic freedom. The Auto Amor Project offers collectors the chance to own unique pieces by contemporary artists at an accessible price. 

The works are available to buy from the Auto Amor website using this link.

NEW EXHIBITION SHEFFIELD

I’m really chuffed to have some of my new vintage postcard paintings in this curated show in Fronteer gallery in Sheffield town centre. It’s my first show for a while but also one of many I’ve had at various venues in this awesome town. All invited to the Private View on 5th April - link to RSVP here and more info below. If you’d like to go at a quieter time, like me, please beware it’s very specific opening days below ie not Fridays! :)

Different Shades of January Blues

The act of seeing is no small thing. To see something is to be possessed by it. Sometimes it carries off a part of you, sometimes it’s your whole soul.

Landscapes of the Heart, Motojiro Kajii

So January is dragging its heels, in the northern hemisphere anyway. It’s been so cold and wet and (seemingly eternally) so so grey. The dog still needs walking but the daylight is so squeezed that it’s a military mission to fit it all in. The mud fight is real!

sunset.placed.logs 2025 Canvas on Panel, 31x25cm

But once out, it's totally worth the effort and the walk I do regularly along a disused railway track feels a million miles away from the chaotic city I live in. I get most of my inspiration for my paintings when I'm out walking. Maybe it’s the slowness of the pace and its rhythm makes me notice the small details. I take 100s of pictures of random moments and eventually a few of them become paintings, like this rather Romantic skip in the sky, my first painting of 2025. These pictures are serendipitous moments of banality, three fridges dumped alongside a bin bag on a street corner for example. Somehow these subjects feel worthy of spending a few hours painting. 

patrol.unless.slap 2024 Oil on Canvas Panel, 30x40

My new Scuzzy Landscape series has grown to over 30 paintings now. The paintings abstract three word names refer to their what3words location where the viewer is standing. Every three metre square of the entire planet (including the oceans) has been given its own unique three  word combination. And this is where I’d love you to help….

CALL OUT FOR YOUR IMAGES

Can you name something beautiful or interesting you’ve seen lately?

I’d like to widen my search for images. So if you’d like to help contribute to my Scuzzy Landscape series, you can email me a picture or two,  or as many as you like. The rules - there aren’t so many really - it should be a landscape in its widest definition where there’s some kind of man-made intervention in the natural landscape, or nature has infiltrated the urban or manmade in a surprising way. If possible, send me the exact what3words location where the photo is taken at the same time via their app. If this is not possible, send a location from your smartphone map. I can’t promise I’ll paint it (unless it’s a commission 😁) but if I do, you will get an source image credit when it’s exhibited. 

If you’d like to see more Scuzzy Landscapes for inspiration go here.
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