Reflecting on our 6 Months project towards a group art exhibition. November 2024

In March 2024, I choose 3 of my students in an open call to join me in a group exhibition. A six months project to explore our abilities, our curiosity and expression of the creative self.

I collaborated with another artist Urmi Magoon, who also teach, and her student Arsh Minhas which made a collective of 6 artists. We exhibited for a weekend long show titled ‘ Lost & Found : Stages of an artists creative journey’.

Here I am sharing their introspective review of their experience being part of this exhibition project as the show concluded.

You can browse all the artworks from the exhibition that are for sale until March 2025, here

Sherlee Choliluddin

I was invited by Susan to participate in the ‘Lost and Found’ Group Exhibition about 6 months ago, right as I was also feeling restless with my sketching style. The constant question I had was, ‘Is that it? Was I merely relegating the rest of my sketching to just sketching in urban settings, trying to ‘get’ the perspective right, but still struggling with matters like correcting my values and drawing trees? At that point, I was also struggling with drawing people in urban settings, and the list goes on. As art is an imitator of life, and in my case, a parallel reflection of my life, as I struggled with burnout recovery, I felt stuck, and at the same time, my sketching style felt stale, and I felt it is becoming performative, as I felt like I do not measure up if I do not sketch in a certain popular style. 

I decided that I had enough of ‘performing’ and since there was nothing to lose, I courageously stepped into my ‘ugly era’ - I stopped treating my sketchbooks as overly precious, and I started breaking my own rules. I started small, I stopped drawing every darn detail on the buildings. I started to fake my details. I also started drawing wonky lines, and even drew over those wonky lines! I also stopped using regular pencils, I switched to using red/blue pencils (known as ‘checking pencils’) as they are, in my opinion, less forgiving (i.e. I can’t quite erase them away) and I think it made my lines more dynamic. I also started direct painting (A la Prima) which also forced me to loosen up my lines and let off the confines of lines, and actually embrace the unpredictability of watercolours. 

After feeling some levels of progress, which also felt reflected in my life, I quickly realised that these sketching sessions were helping me heal from my burnout. Those sessions helped me be less occupied with my mental pains and health woes and detach from my anxieties. My thirst for progress deepened and I wanted to tackle the pain points, being able to paint trees ‘properly’. Whilst I gleaned some skills along the way, I just never quite felt like I could draw an ‘impressive’ tree - meaning, I was still trying to paint to impress others. I sought the help of Susan for guidance as I’ve always loved the way she painted trees, still thinking, I want to learn to paint like her, in a ‘monkey see, monkey do’ way. But what she did was to show me that I already had it in me all this while, and I just needed someone to open the door and let the creativity flow. And flow did I. 

At this current juncture, I feel that I am more a painter, than a sketcher. My style has changed and shifted and I am excited about what is next with my artistic progress and the ‘ugly’ experiments which will lead to more discoveries about my art and myself.

Joyce Long

The past six months working on ‘Lost and Found’ have been a journey of personal discovery and growth, marked by deep connections with my mentors and fellow artists. Being part of this exhibition has challenged me to see art and myself through new and unfiltered lenses. It’s been a rare experience where vulnerability, imperfection, and experimentation are celebrated, and each of us has brought our own evolving story to share.

Susan, my teacher, has been the soul of this journey. She has a way of seeing art not as a fixed product but as a living process, full of unexpected turns and open ends. Her philosophy that there is no right or wrong in art has been a grounding force, helping me let go of my need for completion or correctness. She encouraged me to view unfinished pieces and so-called failures with acceptance and curiosity, transforming them into valuable parts of my process. Her words allowed me to rediscover a sense of play and openness, letting me reconnect with my materials whether it was a found object, a memory, or a scrap from my mother’s sewing kit in ways that felt as natural as breathing. Working with Susan has been like learning to trust my own instincts again.

Urmi, who is my mentor, has influenced me to see that visual  art can fit beautifully within the natural rhythm of life. Her gentle yet purposeful approach, as an artist balancing her own pace with a life full of commitments, showed me that creativity does not always need to be rushed. Observing her process was a revelation, encouraging me to slow down, to let ideas simmer and settle. Urmi’s years of experience in both fine art and design gave her a grounded wisdom that taught me to honor the quieter moments, to create not only for the outcome but for the peace it brings along the way.

Sherlee, my classmate, brought such a refreshing energy. She began as a meticulous urban sketcher, with each line precisely planned, yet over these months, she has embraced a loose, expressive style that radiates her curiosity. Watching her transform her approaches, letting go of rigid accuracy and collecting techniques like treasures, inspired me to be more fearless in my own process. Sherlee evolution was a lesson in letting go of control, finding joy in the unknown, and welcoming the excitement of exploring without a clear path forward.

Isabella, another classmate with a deep background in animation, added a quiet, reflective layer to our group. Her journey to reconnect with her creativity, shaped by years spent abroad, resonated with my own exploration of personal memories and roots. Her process thoughtfully layering oil and pastels, weaving her past into each piece encouraged me to slow down and build my work more mindfully. Her dedication to creating art that speaks to her unique story reminded me that each layer of a piece holds meaning, that there is richness in taking time with every detail. Isabella’s exploration taught me to see art as a way to connect with myself and to find my voice through the textures of my memories.

Arsh, the youngest of us, brought a spark of boldness and innovation. With a love for comic art and a fascination for his own cultural heritage, he has woven traditional symbols into a modern, vibrant style that feels distinctly his own. Watching him reinterpret ancient signs through a comic-inspired lens was a revelation in creative courage. His work pushed me to explore my roots with new energy and to embrace storytelling as an essential part of art. Arsh’s vibrant expression reminded me that heritage and modernity can dance together, creating something that’s both timeless and contemporary.

Reflecting on these months, I realize that ‘Lost and Found’ has been more than an exhibition. It has been a journey shared with people whose insights, courage, and openness have touched me deeply. Each of these artists has helped me see art as something deeply human: imperfect, evolving, and always reaching for connection. In their own ways, they have shown me that ‘failure’ is just another step in the creative process, a vital part of finding our way. As I look back, I feel grateful for the growth, the connections, and the lessons that will stay with me forever.

Isabella Chen

Reflecting on the last six to seven months preparing for this exhibition, I feel a strong sense of community and joy. It’s been a real pleasure working alongside the other artists, and I’ll miss our monthly meetups where we shared our experiments and ideas. As someone who is introverted and usually spends time alone, I had forgotten how motivating it is to work toward a common goal with others in my free time. Listening to other artists’ perspectives, learning what drives them, and being introduced to different styles and approaches has been incredibly inspiring.

Having this exhibition as a goal also helped me stay focused on completing pieces. I tend to linger in the learning phase when exploring something new, much like practicing arpeggios or individual bars of a piece on a musical instrument, hesitating to “put it all together.” This project taught me the value of “jumping in” and working on full pieces, even if they don’t turn out perfectly. For visual art, at least, that approach has pushed my growth.

Ultimately, this experience has helped me find a balance between learning and creating, and I feel I’ve grown significantly as an artist through preparing for this show.




Urmi Magoon

When Susan and I met at an event last year, and I was instantly captivated by our discussions about creativity, teaching experiences, culinary adventures, and everyday life. As our conversation progressed, we delved into our artistic journeys and our aspirations, which ultimately inspired the concept of "Lost and Found." We wanted to create an open call that would not only challenge our students but also push ourselves to collaborate with new individuals.

Over the span of six months, we as a group produced around 50 pieces of art, which is no small feat. This endeavor also came with approximately 100 unsuccessful attempts along the way. Reflecting on the "Lost and Found" exhibition, I can identify three key insights:

1. **Embrace a Slower Pace**: Slowing down doesn't mean sacrificing anything; rather, it allows us to make more thoughtful decisions at a pace that is enjoyable. 

Cultivating self-discipline has significantly boosted my confidence as an artist. By maintaining a consistent routine of reading, observing, practicing, and immersing myself in an artistic lifestyle, I've learned to approach life with mindfulness. As an artist, my duty is to transform the mundane into something remarkable.

2. **Fear of Failure vs. Fearing Failure**: This is a struggle many artists face. Initially, I felt secure in my artistic practices and hesitated to break away from the familiar techniques that had served me well. However, at the start of 2024, I decided to embrace change for my growth as an artist. I allowed myself the time and space to reflect and let ideas develop. Shifting my focus from outcomes to processes opened up new avenues for exploration, leading to unexpected discoveries and learning experiences—even from pieces that didn't succeed. Each attempt felt like a small victory because I ventured into new territory.

3. **Shifting from Teaching Techniques to Mentorship**: This was a new experience for me. For the past five years, my teaching focused teaching mediums like acrylics, watercolors, and gouache — where I had become comfortable with a specific teaching style. In this new role, I found myself guiding rather than instructing, acting as a sounding board for my student's aspirations and ideas. I supported him in achieving his goals and understanding the entire process of producing and curating an exhibition like this.

This journey has been a transformative one, and I look forward to where it will lead me next.

Arsh Minhas

Reflecting on the past six months preparing for the "Lost and Found" exhibition, I’m filled with a profound sense of community and joy. This journey has been transformative. Working alongside fellow artists has been a true pleasure, offering invaluable guidance and introspection that have helped me grow both personally and artistically. Their diverse perspectives introduced me to new styles and approaches, broadening my artistic horizon.

Exploring my heritage through my work for the first time has been deeply meaningful. It allowed me to connect with my culture in a modern, personal way. Joining this exhibition through my mentor, Urmi, has been pivotal. Initially, I struggled with the idea of creating for creation’s sake, believing everything needed to be perfect and methodical. Over time, Urmi helped me see the value in simply putting pen to paper, embracing the imperfections and learning curves that come with it.

Having this exhibition as a goal kept me on a strict deadline, challenging my usual meticulous planning. I learned to control my urges for over-perfection, focusing on key elements while using background and composition to tell my story.

Ultimately, this experience has helped me find a balance between learning, creating, and enjoying both processes. I’ve grown significantly not only as an artist but as a student, open to learning and being proven wrong. Embracing both the process and the community, this opportunity has reinforced my belief in the power of art to guide us through personal and unknown territories.

And finally this is my reflection

Susan Olij


What does work-in-progress mean?

As an artist and teacher, I balance the intuitive flow of making art with the structure of teaching it. Creating is instinctive, while teaching requires breaking things down, which shifts the process. What I make and what I teach feel connected but are distinctly different.

What did I lose and find in the process of taking up my role as an artist?

During this project, I realized that stepping into a leadership role pushed me out of my comfort zone, and I found myself tense and burdened by the responsibility. Leading a team feels very different from teaching in a classroom, and somewhere along the way, I felt I was losing my joy and wonder. My collaborator Urmi reminded me that lightness and joy are at the heart of this project, and I’m grateful for her reminders. I can adjust, to ease up on the heavy demands I unconsciously was placing on myself in the pursuit of "greatness." It reminded of my mother—how intense she could be in her "doing mode" but how much more enjoyable she was when she was relaxed and fun even as she tackles the work at hand beautifully. This experience has given me the opportunity to break the habit of becoming overly serious and to come back to a place of ease, curiosity, and silly lightness.

On mistakes and failures

After teaching for a decade, I noticed my role in the classroom has become about creating a relaxed, non-judgmental space for students. I find that a focus on “perfection”—often seeking approval or fearing criticism—stifles creativity. This mindset is common, especially in regions where education systems are rigid and discourage artistic exploration from a young age. As a result, my focus has shifted to being a constant source of encouragement, helping students break down self-criticism and embrace self-acceptance. Eventhough this emotional support is essential for my students, it often feels like I’m cheering them on more than pushing them forward.

I approach art-making as a conversation with my materials—a back-and-forth exchange rather than a rigid plan. This view influences how I handle “mistakes” in class; they aren’t mistakes to me, just unexpected responses from the materials that offer new directions. For this exhibition, I decided to display our unfinished or abandoned works, inviting viewers to reflect on the idea that there’s “no right or wrong” and to respond with a mark or a note.

Unfinished pieces hold valuable insights, and I see them with neutrality, which allows constructive, helpful thoughts to emerge. I believe in listening to the deeper, kinder layer of critical thought, beneath the surface-level criticism we often inherit from past voices. This deeper layer offers suggestions without dismissing the effort made. That’s the type of feedback I seek—for myself and my students.

On Limited Palette

The words of Hazel Soan “ every painting is research and exploration “ is ringing in my ears every time I force the issue of only using 2 or 3 colours. And after only using three primary colours for about six months, I started looking at all the tubes of paints in my drawers and wonder how I can use just three at a time, and how this can be an endless experiment. When I don’t think about it too much, Yellow and Blue are the two colours I use the most in this project, specifically Cobalt Yellow and Turquoise, while also using Ultramarine blue, and Hansa Yellow. The other colours that I consistently use to add depth are liquid charcoal, and casein white, which are not watercolours but when used together with watercolours, adds a lot of depth and interest to the painting. In limited amounts I also use a lot of watercolour pencil, water soluble wax crayons, and dark soft matte pencils. Colours used limited to yellow, blue and some purple that is not used as a main colour. My overall thoughts on using limited palette is, I love it, it has changed my way of looking at colours, and I don’t need to correct what feels odd. Those of you who’s used limited palette for a while can understand this odd feeling when colours are shifting cooler and warmer, yet they are all still in harmony with each other.

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Overjoyed Open Studio 14 December 2024

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Lost and Found: Stages of an Artist’s Creative Journey - a group show