Emma Howell
6 March, 2026
In this post, I’m breaking a rule that I set for myself. With my Atelier series, publication on my website was never the plan – the main goal was (and still is) to keep the pieces under wraps, with no pressure and a way for my subscribers to exclusively view the work. However, with the third piece in the series, I really want to talk about it. So, forgive me.
Quick recap: The concept behind my Atelier works is quite simply a private space to experiment, push boundaries, and make originals that are unplanned, raw and unfiltered (read about it here). As a full time mother, I don’t have the time or space to create multiple collections throughout the year right now.. so my Atelier works will be made sporadically, when the moment strikes. Then shared in real time, one-by one. I’m at number 3, so far. And there’s something about Atelier 003 that I need to shout about. “Wild Quiet” captures a frenzied moment on paper.. messy, intense, and alive.
“Atelier 003: Wild Quiet”
22″ x 30″ Fluid acrylic, soft pastel, charcoal and B pencil on Saunders Waterford Paper, 2026.
£905 unframed or £975 in bespoke frame.
Some paintings begin with a fully thought out concept. This one began with a sudden moment that needed to be translated onto paper.
After a struggle getting Lilah down for her nap, I came downstairs completely frazzled and overwhelmed. My heart was racing fast and I sat on the edge of the couch trying to run my fingers through my knotty hair.. just to take a breath. Jon walked in and I randomly blurted out “I need to go paint. Something needs to come out.”
So I snatched the nearest piece of paper (thankfully, a large beautiful sheet of Saunders Waterford – hah how ideal) and slammed it onto the kitchen island.
I gave the piece its time stamp on the back and wrote a few thoughts/feelings down.
Next, I made myself reach for a colour I never use: phthalo green. It felt wrong picking it up, but that was part of the reason I chose it. I didn’t feel like myself that day either. Motherhood has a way of shifting your sense of self in ways you just don’t expect, and sometimes you’ve got to sit in this discomfort to find that sense again. So, phthalo green was taking the lead here.
The initial brush strokes came out really quickly. Angry, erratic and pulsing.. pushing the brush around at warp speed all around the paper.. in a way that I could only describe as expressive frustration. Extra water made some of the paint pool in strange ways, but that was OK. Next, pencil moved aggressively across the paper, charcoal then arrived at the party.. all of these mediums were working together in a way that felt upside down and inside out. Wrong – but I was accepting it. My hands and mind were working in unison in a strange flow state where you’re not fully thinking, you’re just responding to what’s inside. The entire piece found its conclusion during this one nap of Lilah’s (two hours or so).
When I looked at it afterwards, it felt exactly like the moment it came from. Intense, unsettled, a little overwhelming and just what it was meant to be. A moment of chaos on paper.
A few days later, I showed it to a fellow Mum friend and she said it felt like a nightmare, almost like a headache translated onto paper. I laughed because I knew exactly what she meant – she wasn’t wrong. It isn’t a gentle piece and it isn’t trying to be. She also understood it.. she felt it. Would she hang it in her house? Perhaps not. And that’s OK. But she fully empathised with the piece and the moment.
For a brief second I wondered if that meant it would never sell. It’s not an easy work to view or sit with.. but maybe it would be for some. Perhaps a reminder of strength or a piece to be inspired by. The energy behind chaos, anger and frustration can shift into an aesthetic, physical form. Energy is never destroyed, after all.
Plus – I’ve found that the pieces that hold the most feeling can often end up finding the person who needs exactly that. Someone who doesn’t want something pretty in their living room, but something that embodies something real and emotive.
That’s what this piece is for me. A record of a very particular moment in early motherhood, when the energy and frustration of the moment had to go somewhere physical. As a result, paint and charcoal were used and abused.
Atelier 003, Wild Quiet
22 × 30 inches
Fluid acrylic, charcoal, soft pastel and B pencil on Saunders Waterford paper
2026.
The work is currently available.
If it resonates with you, please contact me.