Musings - Mid April 2026

A collection of experiences, ideas, and things to delight, inspire, elevate.
Jamila Hume Art - Greening interiors, beautifying spaces, delighting hearts: florals, trees, and romantic landscapes for your home.

Hello lovely!

It is hard to believe that it is nearly the end of April….where has the time gone? I thought that I would send out a quick note with a recap in case you missed all the activity over on ‘the socials’. I would also like to remind you that you have a discount code for all original oil paintings and artful delights. The code LAUNCH is valid until 9th May. Given that Mother’s Day is on the 10th May, if you would like an oil painting (I have added two new ones - photos and info below), a print, a scarf or some greeting cards in your hand by the 8th May (Friday), it’s probably best that you shop this weekend so that I can pop everything in the post for you.

My week was full in the most beautiful way. First, it feels like winter!! It was cold and wet outside (19 degrees today!) but so lovely and warm within my studio. I had to laugh when the rain came through—I had just finished watering the plants on the deck. I love winter because I feel like we have permission to change gears, to move in to a slower, gentler rhythm. The early mornings of summer have me dashing out before the heat of the day hits, it feels a bit frantic and time sensitive. I gladly welcome the next few months where wooly socks and hot drinks take the lead.

This week in my world at the studio I ordered new canvases for commissions, spent time at the post office shipping scarves (I hear they have landed in your hands!), I organised the print orders, I helped people frame prints (in case you missed out, I made videos for you here and here), and I varnished and framed three commissions (the two hydrangeas above and the beautiful seaside floral, below).

Varnishing the works helps protect the paintings from dust and UV so it is an important step. When you get your painting home, over time as is natural, dust will accumulate. The best thing to do is take a dry microfibre cloth and dust the painting. No need to apply any water, solvents, or spray.

The varnish is the final layer of my work. It’s sort of the moment where everything settles and deepens. I admit that it can be a bit of an emotional experience, sending paintings to their forever homes. Something that has lived so fully in my mind—every colour, every detail, every decision—finally leaves my hands. For many of the works, commissions and or paintings I create for exhibitions, I lay awake thinking of them, dreaming of them, working through questions I have about them…composition, scale, colour, the lines that take the viewers eyes on a journey…then the story…the collector and their story that I am bringing in to fruition in the work, or the story I am telling …is there cohesion?…is the tension resolved?…what can I scrape back and leave unsaid?…The connection I feel to each work is profound…Every painting changes me a wee little bit…and every painting has a piece of me in it. There’s a Greek word for it -meraki: to create with soul; it actually translates literally to: to leave something of yourself behind in what you make. As a consequence, there is always a small pause when a piece leaves. A kind of ache, alongside the joy..that bittersweet delight is real and then I see photographs of the painting hanging in your home and all that I feel is pure joy.

Years ago, when I was at Grad-school in Montreal, Canada, I attended the Writer’s Festival where I met one of my favourite authors, Michael Ondaatje. He had just released, Anil’s Ghost. I loved it and was occupied by Anil’s character. I gathered the courage to ask him a question: I was curious to know how he let his characters go once a book was finished. I imagined the characters he created lived with him for a long time, even after he had finished the book. His answer however was nothing short of practical and completely devoid of any romanticism I had projected on to him. He shared that once he finishes writing and re-writing and completing all of the edits, he is done. The characters are replaced by the logistics of publishing and promoting the novel. He was rather matter-of-fact about it all. 27 years later and I still feel a bit flat when I replay his reply.

I understood what he meant and why he felt that way, but I didn’t ‘get it’. Fast-forward 30 years and here I am releasing works that have lived in my head. To prepare for my goodbye, I take photographs and then take extra photographs; I linger; I notice; I sit with it…And then I write a thank you card, wrap it for the art courier and send it off. I usually take a day or three to refresh and clean the studio, put everything away, and then slowly, I begin again.

Every one of the paintings I have painted sits with me and at times, my brain feels very full. Here are some photographs of the three framed works heading down to the Northern Beaches area of Sydney, NSW.

The next goodbye is the large cobalt blue 3m painting in the photograph above. I will varnish that work this coming week and deliver it to the collector…

I started the initial work on a new commission which is a two-metre painting that will dip in to soft, late afternoon light. Think: golden white; sage greens; dusty aubergine; sandy pinks and a Turner-esque sky. I shall share more with you in the coming weeks. I have started to play with the colours…

As we head in to the last week of April, I wanted to wish you a lovely May and say that I am here for you.

May can be a challenging month for many people given that Mother’s Day is on the 10th. For some, it is a day of celebration; for others, it carries a different weight—memory, longing, reflection, or a quiet tenderness.

I have been thinking recently about my mum’s laughter. She could be heard from the other side of the house. Her laugh was one of those that you would hear, then “hear” silence as she laughed and caught her breath then let out a huge outburst again. I would run in to the room to see what had made her laugh so infectiously. She drove her dream car: a red mini that had a massive wooden steering wheel. I learned to drive in that car. It was 1988… It was fabulous, except for on the highway in the rain. It was a rarity in Vancouver where we lived so as a teenager, driving that car, if I did anything…everyone knew who my mother was… she loved a good Eccles cake and would send me to the bakery on a Saturday afternoon to buy a few for afternoon tea. My mum was a nurse but I think her real love was drawing…The way she sketched trees mesmerised me. I loved watching her chat with her sister over the phone, pen in hand, paper at her side, and she’d sketch…they were both fabulous artists, but they would never have called themselves artists. They decorated homes, wallpapered rooms over the weekend, loved a great curtain…Texture, colour, and the story behind the treasure. My mum in the souks in Morocco…watch out! She had an eye for tiny details that would bring a room filled with different styles and cultures, together seamlessly. I think in many ways this is where it began for me. Not just painting—but seeing that what we place around us matters, deeply. I am grateful to her for so much and through sharing my memories of her with you, I feel she is breathing her energy in and around me.

Wherever this coming week, weekend, month and Mother’s Day meets you, I hope that you find a moment to pause, to notice, to be held, and to hold—however that looks for you.

With love,
Jamila x

Do you know someone who would love to receive this Musing and receive 10% off their purchase in my online shop? Forward to your friend so that they too can use the LAUNCH code at checkout.

Jamila Hume Art - Greening interiors, beautifying spaces, delighting hearts. Florals, trees, and romantic landscapes for your home.