It’s taken me a long time to figure out what to say about my recent work, ‘jasper and monday’. My paintings, whether I want them to or not, will typically always wonder in the same spaces as I do; reflecting in unique ways how I’m feeling. I believe after three weeks of unravelling the meaning behind this piece, I’ve realised that I’m honestly still unravelling the year in which she was created.
To provide as much clarity on the creation process as I’m able to right now, I would say that from soft and delicate foundations came extraordinarily intricate challenge, followed with great delay, a majestic balance of gentleness, strength and blind faith. I think I’ll understand why ‘jasper and monday’ came to be the way she did a little later on, perhaps when I meet her collector, perhaps when I find resolve to my twenty-seven year old musings on 2024.
"one day the safety became a trap I had no interest in being held"
‘Jasper and monday’ sat with very delicate ambition in the beginning, her foundations were of a soft, muted palette; beiges and creamy whites— she was safe. She was so safe for so long, that one day the safety became a trap I had no interest in being held. There was definite appeal to the safety at the time as I had just surfaced for breath from what felt like a whirlwind five months.
"within two weeks I had sold $35k worth of original and print work"
In late 2023 I had celebrated my largest exhibit, a six week artist residency at Newstead Studios in Brisbane. I had been painting for it throughout autumn and winter, creating six large scale works and multiple smaller pieces. The residency was my first big career step and it taught me patience, belief and humility. I didn’t sell a thing for two weeks either side of the opening night-- not a single online print order; not an original, which was supposed to be the reward for my months of work; in the most expensive self-funded expedition of my career. I was the first artist to ask to be in the gallery space each day of the artist residency, so that I could speak with anyone who came by and make the very most of my opportunity. Every second person exclaimed that I "must have sold loads!", which was really sweet, but optimistically telling them "nothing just yet but I've met lots of wonderful people" was beginning to haunt me each morning as I made my coffee. It took me until the fourth week to sell an original, right after I’d conceited that if it didn’t work out, I didn’t care, I’d carry on painting because it was what I was meant for. I find myself in this predicament really quite often, where the chips are so down that I have to think practically about what to do. It's kind of frightening each time I find myself in this cycle to realise that it's the easiest choice, my paintings will always win; this is where my purpose will be held above all. The moment, the exact morning I had ascertained that once more in my mind, I began selling and within two weeks I had sold $35k worth of original and print work.
The world opened up to me a little more at this stage and it led me to move into an apartment on my own, in a place I had given twenty-four hours worth of thought to: the Gold Coast. My mum always reminds of me how I had always said I’d never want to live at the Gold Coast and how shocked she was when I called her to tell her my plan. I’ll spare the logistical delight of how I ended up here, but the main reasons were: I needed a change; I needed space; I needed to stretch myself (in retrospect, excruciating); my application was accepted straight away because I could provide six months rent in advance, which was solely due to my very recent success; I wanted a nice place to go for a morning walk (it’s very, very nice!); and, ultimately after inspecting the Palm Beach apartment, a woman at a bakery insisted on making me a fresh salad sandwich ten minutes before close time. I’ve learned that it doesn’t take huge acts to delight me and so here I am.
"would anyone ever fall in love with me? would I ever be able to feel like I’d worked enough and achieved enough to see friends and feel relaxed and available?"
The excitement of moving was great, I forgot however, that I had never lived by myself before. I’d also given little thought to the fact that I didn’t know a soul at the Gold Coast. I’d also forgotten that any year the olympics are on, turns out to be a dreadful year for me. 2024; the olympics; the loneliness; the stress; the never ending complexities of being a full-time artist; would anyone ever fall in love with me? would I ever be able to feel like I’d worked enough and achieved enough to see friends and feel relaxed and available? The year was full of greatness too, I succeeded more than I ever had— but the challenge won.
This is going to sound clunky, but bare with me! : My schedule around moving was packing up the remaining works at Newstead Studios at the end of October 2023; taking it back to Toowoomba for two weeks; moving everything down to the Gold Coast; in late November travelling to New Zealand for a week-long collaboration trip; having five days back at my new home before packing a mini van full of my work and driving it to a Pop-Up and launch of Petals x Ali Whittle at Rainbow Studios in Sydney; driving 95% of that work back home after three days in Sydney consisting of 1. A record-breaking heatwave and 2. A day full of rain in a space that relied on foot traffic; then getting through Christmas chaos; celebrating the completion of my charitable project in early January and preparing for a pop-up in Fitzroy in the early months of 2024. My mind couldn’t catch up to my activities and I was exhausted.
"people gravitate toward the colour when they want stability and calm"
So I began ‘jasper and monday’ amidst this dare I say, state of crisis, and I craved her simple, melting, easy palette of soft beige which developed reasonably into soft blue. I’m definitely more of a warm-toned person, but whenever I feel spirit poor and lost I lean toward blue. Apparently since the sky and sea, both vast expanses of certainty, are blue, people gravitate toward the colour when they want stability and calm.
I pushed with this soft palette for a while and knew in myself I wasn’t pushing hard enough, in a year that stretched my spirit and mind already, I knew I could stretch further. So I began making risky strokes, integrating bold contrasting tones, landing myself in places I didn’t like and had to work my way out of. It was honestly kind of devastating in the middle section of the process, I so desperately wanted to impress myself and feel clever and talented, but at every turn I fell short. The hardest part of my paintings I find is creating a certain spirit, an identity that you don’t have to search for— she’s sure and immediate. I felt so lost and defeated as I searched for her each day, as I wondered why I was in this place mentally and physically.
Just on the precipice of the this-will-never-resolve / should I paint over her / can I persist here? stage— I did persist and I finally found the identity of ‘jasper and monday’. She soothed my webbing mind and filled my spirit back up again.
I did the typical dance of “is she finished? Am I sure?” I wasn’t sure of anything last year, so it was hard to trust my instincts. I sat her on my wall in a ‘just about’ finished state for a few weeks and considered her carefully.
"...I received my least enjoyed reaction to that answer: “ohhhhh, wowwww…” as ones eyes widen quickly, then fall to the side.."
One day I had been out running errands and happened to be at a few different stores and cafes— it so happened that at each place, the topic of work came up and when asked what I did, I told them that I was an artist— I’m always sure to be pleasantly neutral when I tell people this because I do fall victim to the perception of the stereotypes. I’m careful not to answer with too much seriousness, even if it’s the most serious thing in my life. It’s also important not to be too flippant, because well, my soul and dignity and everything. It so happened that on this particular day I received my least enjoyed reaction to that answer: “ohhhhh, wowwww…” as ones eyes widen quickly, then fall to the side and ask zero follow-up questions as if I’ve just told them that I tap dance naked in a hot air balloon full-time. Sure, I might be being a bit dramatic but I’ve been dealing with that look and reaction for almost five years and it breaks me each time. I wouldn’t care what somebody told me they did— I’d make sure to validate them, respect them and ask about it. (Sorry to anyone who does the tap dance/hot air balloon thing— how did you get into that? What kind of music do you do it to? :) )
Anyway! So it doesn’t usually affect me thattt much (I’m lying— I’m a very true Capricorn and I’ll think about it for the rest of my days) but I took my pleasant demeanour and my low-key internally brewing rage home. I stared at ‘jasper and monday’ and I said out loud for no one to hear, “I know exactly what to do with you!”. I took her down from the wall and made the exquisite, all-important final strokes. They were delicate, layering over the heaviness ever so slightly and softening the contrast. The tiny little top notes that matter most were sprinkled with a sense of strength and determination and belief that I hadn’t seen in myself for a while.
"she’s a masterpiece of persistence, of extreme turmoil covered by a rhythmic majestic beauty"
To me, she’s a masterpiece of persistence, of extreme turmoil covered by a rhythmic majestic beauty. There’s a perfect balance of stillness, movement, softness and strength; above all an intrigue into the phenomenon of being somewhere you should be moving rapidly but you’re standing completely still, not yet knowing why.
I am incredibly intrigued to know the eventual collector of ‘jasper and monday’ and ask them what they were doing while I was painting this blue beauty. I’ve never spent so much time on a piece, which is reflected in her listing. I’m not sure if I’ll have her for a few years or a few weeks, but I’ll marvel at her until that beautiful trade occurs where her meaning develops and grows into someone else’s. I can’t wait <3
"I love the way prints enrich the original and how your gaze upon them connects us all"
Naturally, as this piece meant so much to me that I’ve sat through four coffee’s while writing about her— truly, thank you, I can't tell a short story— she’s available in limited-edition print. I love the way prints enrich the original and how your gaze upon them connects us all.
This piece is currently on display in Cremorne, Melbourne and available online here. Payment plans are available for the original ‘jasper and monday’, requiring a 50% deposit with a full payment timeline of up to 6 months. Please email hello@bynarjiabrownlie.com for viewing and enquiries.
My work tests me all the time, but I haven’t given up yet and I’m quite sure I never will— maybe ‘jasper and monday’ told me so. I think a lot of that is up to you and I am eternally grateful for what we've created together.
With love and belief in your unique feminine spirit, always-
Narjia x
