Imperfect Paintings

If a painting is not quite right, I know. It's a feeling, like when the energy in a room is slightly off, or when someone is upset with you but hasn't said anything. 

When this happens, I instantly know that the painting won't turn out the way I want. For me, a painting I’m truly happy with has to flow; the whole process needs to feel natural, from the very first stroke. I'm happy to wrestle with a canvas, to tweak, scrape a little, adjust, but if I'm spending all day scraping, I know—I need to walk away. Clear my head. Let the colours breathe. And sometimes, yes, scrape everything off or scrap the painting completely.

People often tell me I’m too harsh. “Just let it dry and paint over it,” they say. But I’m stubborn. And I want every painting I share, every piece I sell, to feel like it’s carrying good, true energy. (Perfectionist? Maybe just a smidge…)

But you know when you can feel that someone is upset with you, and you're worrying about it, and everything feels a little off, but then they come and tell you what's happening in their life, and it has nothing to do with you. And you realised that you read the energy through your own fears and worries? I've recently realised that sometimes even my paintings are like that.

Because, here’s the twist—whenever I post a scraped painting, someone messages me to say they love it. That it speaks to them. That there’s beauty in the layers I almost tossed. It’s been a lovely reminder that art speaks to people in different ways. That beauty is so wildly personal. That maybe even my scrapes have their place in the world.

In fact, one of my “discarded” elephants now lives in someone’s living room, pride of place, loved to bits. And I had a canvas which I had completely scraped back, and then I let children express themselves over my destroyed art with oil pastels, and it's completely joyful! 

So maybe Thursday Scrape isn’t about failure at all. Maybe it’s about letting go. Trusting the process. And recognising that sometimes, the messy middle is the best part. 

As always, if something from my gallery or stories catches your eye (even a scrape!)—do reach out. I love hearing what you see in these pieces.

With love, 

Katherine

Café Phillies: Finding a Space for Art

When I first moved to London during lockdown, I had a daily ritual: a takeaway coffee from Café Phillies, followed by a walk through the park. Every morning, I’d pass the same smiling face—Ilir, the owner—always there, always kind. And while we weren’t allowed inside at the time, I couldn’t help but notice the artwork hanging on the café’s walls.

I didn't know anyone in the art world in London, and sometimes it seems impossible to find ways to get your art in front of people. One morning, I mustered the courage to ask Ilir if he’d consider showing some of my pieces. He welcomed the idea with such generosity that I still smile thinking about it. Before I knew it, my paintings were up—and slowly but surely, they started to sell. I’d swap in new ones when others sold, and in a way, the café became my first little London gallery.

Since then, I’ve had two full exhibitions in that magical space. It's still where some of my favourite stories begin.

Right now, a new series of framed mini watercolours is hanging proudly on the walls at Café Phillies—each one £250. If you’re in the Kensington area, pop by for a peek (and please do treat yourself to their chai latte while you’re at it—it's truly the best in town, and I’ve done the research!).

Let me know if you go—I’d love to hear what you think.

Meanwhile, here are the paintings you might see if you visit Café Phillies!

5 Not-Rules for Artists

I once gave one of my favourite art students advice about a painting, and they said, “Thank you, Katherine, and I hear you, but that’s not what I’m going to do. I’m going to do it this way,” and I thought—yes. That’s perfect.

There are no rules with art, not really, and the best teachers know that. So in honour of my best art teacher, Mrs. Robinson, and the sort of artist (and teacher) I hope to be, here are 5 of my favourite 'Not-Rules for Artists'. 

1.⁠ ⁠Spend time on your idea, then let it go.

I often ask my students to talk about what they want to create—or to sketch it first, just loosely, on a separate piece of paper. This makes the idea real. It gives it shape.

Then, I ask them to let it go.

The most important thing is not to be afraid of the canvas. I love being spontaneous, and often those first raw markings take the painting in a direction I didn’t expect—something I couldn’t plan, and couldn’t re-create if I tried.

There’s something beautiful about following where the brush leads, even if it takes you somewhere completely different.

2.⁠ ⁠Everything is an inspiration.

I’ve learned so much by studying other artists—how they use colour, movement, light, and proportion. But in the end, my deepest inspiration comes from simply stepping outside.

The way people hold their bodies. The texture of leaves. The expression in an animal’s eyes. The world offers so much, if we pause and really look.

So I encourage my students to draw from their own lives. What do you love to look at in the world? What makes you stop and stare? Start there.

3.⁠ ⁠Movement is better than perfection. 

I used to paint with music on—sometimes playing the same song again and again until it seeped into my hands and shaped the rhythm of my brushstrokes. These days I paint in silence, but I still let that energy guide me.

Big, expressive strokes aren’t for everyone. But however you paint, find a way to be present in your body. When I need to take a break, I step away from the canvas and look at it, letting the markings guide me to my next strokes. The worst thing that might happen is that I don’t like it, so I scrape back and let those scrapes become my new connection point.

Painting isn’t about control—it’s about connection. It should feel like dancing, not measuring.

4.⁠ Everybody loves a mistake.

“Mistakes” are just moments asking to be listened to. They can show you something new, or lead you in a different direction. Sometimes they become the best part of the painting.

Njaa the warthog started out as a lion. I scraped back layer after layer, frustrated. But once I stopped forcing it, something else began to appear—unexpected, but perfect. A warthog. So I followed it.

Don’t be afraid to scrap what’s not working. Something better might be waiting underneath.

5.⁠ ⁠Be brave with your heart. 

Pour yourself into the work—your energy, your emotion, your hopes and fears and the bits of you that aren’t so pretty.

The paintings people connect with most are never the neatest ones. They’re the ones where I was honest. Where I felt something. Even when I wasn’t sure if it would work.

If you paint with your whole heart, people will feel it—even if they don’t know why. And if that’s still a little scary? You can always show it to me first. I would love to see your art.

PS. The paintings in this newsletter are glimpses from different moments in my life—some go all the way back to Paris (seven years ago!), and even to when I was just 18. I can’t return to those moments, but I can share them.

If you’d like to collect one of these pieces, I’d be so happy to arrange a private viewing—and tell you the stories behind the brushstrokes.

A Happy Canvas

I'm writing this with a cup of Rooibos in hand, gazing out at vineyards, olive trees, and mountains, as I take a little break with my parents and my sister— the only person missing is my brother Sam. It's peaceful and beautiful here, and I’m reminded of the beauty of just being—which feels a lot like painting for the pure joy of it, when you're fully in the moment.

My view of the mountains

Since my brushes are on holiday too, I wanted to share a little moment from last week, instead. I donated a painting, Tomorrow’s Keepers, to the Kay Mason Foundation, and it raised £3,040 at their gala in London. That’s almost enough to fund a full year of education for a child in South Africa!

I was a little nervous to attend the gala, and so I decided to paint something for myself—a dress. I wanted to stand out, make some connections, and most importantly, have fun, so I hand-painted a sunflower design that was big and joyful. 

The dress wasn’t for a series or a project; it was just something I wanted to do, something spontaneous and creative. And you know what? It worked! I met some amazing people, and I got to paint simply for the pleasure of it, and to remember that anything can be a canvas... even me.

A Happy Canvas

I’ve also got exciting news for next week! If you've been following my nature nudes, you'll know that I’ll be releasing three new figure paintings in my newsletter on the 3rd of April, 2025. Which is next week! I can’t wait to share them with you.

Until then, I’m off for a run around the lemon and olive trees to find some inspiration for my final painting of the series. Wish me luck—it’s hilly out here.

Tomorrow’s Keepers

Catching Sunshine

I’m so pleased to say I’ve finished another painting—though not without a fair bit of scraping first! I went through far too many canvases. Sometimes, getting stuck is part of the process; I have to clear the blocks before something I love can take shape.

I won’t reveal her in full just yet… you’ll have to wait until April to see the whole collection, but here's a cheeky peek: 

A Cheeky Peek and an Unimpressed Whisky

Lately, I’ve been soaking up the sunshine, and it’s found its way onto my canvas. This new piece is bold yet delicate, vibrant and warm—like sunlight itself. She’s smaller than Waterfall Lady, but she has a big presence.

I love how, after so many failed paintings, this lady came to me all in a rush, like a sketch more than a painting. I planned to capture nature in my new nude series, and nothing in nature would exist without a little sunshine, so I suppose the part of me that grew up on beaches in Tanzania wanted to bring that warmth into my home to keep hold of when the weather turns again. 

However, Whisky is not impressed. She’s been huffing at me all day, so I’d better take her for a walk—in the sunshine, of course!

The Thursday Scrape

Welcome to the Thursday Scrape. Every week, I'll share a short, honest look into my life, my painting process, and the challenges of being an artist. And I’d also love to hear from you—what are you curious about?

-SCRAPE-

Before my first coffee of the day, this is what I found myself doing—scraping away an entire painting. Erasing all of my work in a few quick movements. This series is all about my inspirations, and you'd think painting straight from the heart would be easy, but with each brushstroke, I felt the weight of my own expectations. 

Last week’s Waterfall Woman set the bar high, and my latest attempt, inspired by the forest, felt unexciting in comparison to that lady. She stared at me as I painted, telling me that something was missing in this new piece. So… SCRAPE!

Waterfall Woman

I promised myself five paintings by April, but I won’t show anything I’m not completely happy with, and I would like to stay true to the spirit of this series, which is to paint only from my heart. Who knows—maybe there will be three, maybe five paintings, but I'll keep you posted next Thursday as I figure it out.

For now, it's back to the easel. Let’s hope today’s painting fares better than yesterday’s!

Escaping the City

Into the Woods

For a puppy, Whisky has very strong opinions about cities like London. Whenever we get off the train, she looks at me with big, disappointed eyes and sighs. 

I love London, but since I moved to Tunbridge Wells, I’ve spent a lot of time in the woods. The sound of the birds, the trees swaying in the wind, the crunch of leaves on the ground, watching Whisky bound ahead with her usual uncontainable joy. The world slows down here, and I feel at peace. I want to bring this feeling into my art. 

For a while recently, I have been painting for others—commissions, charity pieces, works that had deep meaning but left little room to just… explore. But nature has always been an inspiration for me, and now it feels like it has been calling me back to myself. Do you ever feel like you need to be outdoors more? Like spending time in the countryside reminds you who you are and what is really important? 

What’s Next?

This April, I’ll be releasing a series of five nudes— and I want them to be inspired by nature. I've decided to paint instinctively again, to let my heart guide me, so I won't be trying to bring any specific element of nature into each piece. Instead, I will spend more time outdoors, research and learn about wild creatures and places, and talk to friends about what they love about our natural world. Then I will see what shows up on the canvas. 

The Waterfall Lady

This lady is the first painting in my new series. Her form is fluid and powerful, her legs above her as she stretches out to claim her space. I didn't even realise until after she was done that she is at once a woman and a waterfall! 

I wonder how nature will show up in the next four paintings, and I can't wait to share this process with you.

If you’re craving a moment to breathe, to step outside, to feel grounded again—I hope you find that space. And maybe, just maybe, my paintings will help you carry a little of that wild, unfiltered beauty back with you.

Until then, Whisky and I will be in the woods!

Vanishing Worlds: Reflections on a Special Evening

The Vanishing Worlds exhibition felt like a gathering of kindred spirits, and I want to thank everyone who came to share in this moment with me. The support for WWF and wildlife conservation was heartwarming and exceeded anything I could have imagined. It reminded me of why I paint—why I pour my passion onto the canvas. It’s not just about the art itself; it’s about giving a voice to the wildlife that can’t speak for itself. Each of the people who attended Vanishing Worlds helped amplify that voice.

Together, We Make a Difference

Hearing Natasha share her touching memory of the rhinos and listening to Milly from WWF speak so passionately about our planet's endangered species brought the room together in a way that went beyond art. I felt that everybody really reflected on what we can still achieve together. Yes, the challenges we face are significant, but they’re not impossible. It’s not too late to change direction! Each painting, every conversation sparked at the exhibition, adds up to something bigger than any one of us could accomplish alone.

As Helen Keller said, “Alone we can do so little. Together we can do so much.”

This resonates deeply with me because I believe in the power of community—of coming together to create a small but positive difference in our world. Through your support, we’ve already raised a significant amount for WWF, and I’m incredibly grateful. It’s a reminder that we are part of something bigger, part of a collective effort to protect what we love.

The Journey Continues

For those who couldn’t make it to the exhibition or want to revisit some of the works, there are still pieces from the Vanishing Worlds collection looking for their forever homes, and WWF can be supported in many other ways. Each painting is not just a piece of art but a step toward raising awareness and fostering a deeper appreciation for the world’s most vulnerable creatures. If you’d like to see the updated digital catalogue, I’d be delighted to share it with you.

Let’s keep carrying this momentum forward. Whether through art, conversation, or simply choosing to be more conscious in our daily lives, together, we can continue to make a difference. Thank you for being part of this journey, and here’s to many more moments of connection, reflection, and hope.

A Painting a Day

I love to share my experiences as an artist, the real and authentic, the difficult and the beautiful. But some days, it also feels important to take a step back and celebrate what I have achieved: to let my work speak for itself.

In the second half of April, I gave myself a challenge: to post a new painting every single day. I wasn’t sure I would manage it, but what amazed me was that I actually found myself having more energy each day. On some days, I even did two paintings, and sold them as a diptych!

So here is my April blog - just art:

I actually feel quite sad now that the challenge is over. I found myself looking forward to finding out what I would paint each day.

Luckily, I still have exciting exhibitions coming up, as well as some commissions to keep myself challenged. So although all of the paintings above (apart from two, at this time) have sold, if you fall in love with one… why not challenge me to paint you something similar?

“A Walking Canvas”

I am so excited to introduce you to my collection of Katherine Hughes hand-painted shoes, where you can wear the change you wish to see in the world.

Although I grew up in Tanzania, I have spent much of my life on the move. I love having a base in London now, but exploration will always be a big part of my life. I love to travel! I love to see the world. And so it makes me happy that my next collection is all about movement. The paintings in my A Walking Canvas series will never stay still.

Tying a Bow on a New Idea

The seed of the idea for A Walking Canvas came a few days before one of my previous exhibition openings. I was about to showcase a series of paintings called Celebrating Britain’s Beauty, and I wanted to wear something that reflected my theme. I am a passionate lover of fashion, but I am also a big believer in sustainability. My work is about protecting our environment and wild spaces, and so although I worked in the fashion industry in Paris for a while, I couldn’t justify a fast fashion choice. Instead, I decided to take a pair of shoes I already owned and paint an echo of the exhibition onto them in the form of sunflowers. What could be more perfect?

And then, of course, at the exhibition, my shoes got almost as much attention as my oil paintings. They received so much interest from my wonderful friends and supporters that it made me think about giving other people the opportunity to carry a piece of wild art with them on the move. And so the idea for a collection, not of paintings, but of hand-painted shoes, was born.

Leaving Only Lovely Footprints

I have chosen to paint sneakers from the Adidas Sustainable Collection because I believe in sustainable, slow fashion, and I want the shoes to last as long as possible. Each pair will have a unique design to remind the wearer of the beauty and vulnerability of our wild spaces. 

I love that no two people will ever have the same pair of Katherine Hughes shoes!

I just loved the idea of taking shoes — one of the most common and disposed-of items of clothing — and making them into a form of wearable art that celebrates the beauty of nature. I think it is a lovely way to invite people to become a part of a movement that supports the protection of our planet.

To Walk Far, Walk Together

50% of the profits from 'A Walking Canvas' will go directly towards a charity I have handpicked. I will be working with charities that I know well, ones that make an immediate, uplifting difference in the world. My idea is to take this collection worldwide and to use it to support many wonderful causes that I believe in. 

The first charity I have chosen is very close to my heart: KidzCare provides support, education, nutrition, and community services to children living in rural areas of Tanzania, my home. I believe that sustainable change starts with education, and with our young people. 

I am so excited to invite you to the launch of my A Walking Canvas collection, an exhibition at Café Phillies on October 19th. 

The Tanzania I paint.

Tanzania is home and always will be. In my eyes, Tanzania is the most special place on earth. It is where I grew up, where my family still live… and it doesn’t hurt that it is one of the most beautiful, wild countries left in the world.

Although I grew up in Tanzania, I live and paint in England now. These two places are so different, and yet both hold such significance to my work and to my life. I guess you could say I have two homes… and both of them are beautiful. 

So, when I returned to Dar es Salaam recently, I decided to take the opportunity to ask myself, what about this special place made me into the artist I am? What is it about Tanzania that I am hoping to bring into the homes of people all around the world, starting in London? 

I also worked with a videographer to create a short documentary that captures a little of the Tanzania I know and love. Don’t miss the video here: 

A little bit of wilderness

Of course, nowhere is perfect, but what makes Tanzania “perfect” in my eyes is the wilderness and the endless untouched beauty. Not all of the land is beautiful, but from the National Parks to the clear blue oceans, Tanzania is nature at its most unforgettable.

Nature at its wildest.

Growing up, we spent almost every weekend out at sea, swimming in the ocean, snorkelling, diving, pretending to be fish… or mermaids! Let’s say mermaids… they are so much more mystical. ;) And without fail, every year, as a family, we would go on safari.

Between the sea and the bush, we were constantly surrounded by nature, and although I took it all for granted at the time, quite recently, I have realised how lucky I truly am — that experiencing all of this was normal to me. 

I have so many magical memories of Tanzania’s natural spaces, and I find myself returning to them again and again on canvas.

A burst of colour

Another source of inspiration in my work is colour. I love working with brightness and mixing “unusual” colours together to represent something beautiful in a new and unexpected way. Not to try and sell Tanzania to you, but it is a country filled with so many colours! Have you ever admired the brightness of something as simple as a fruit? The open skies of Tanzania make everything from bananas to beads shine, and the people embrace colour with such a sense of joy, from their fabrics to their art. 

Learning from the experts.

Tinga Tinga is a painting style derived from East Africa. In Dar es Salaam, the majority of the local artists paint using this style. Colour explodes through Tinga Tinga, and this is where much of my love for bright colours was born. In the past, I tried to keep up with the “European trends” and stick to neutral colours, but honestly, I find it so boring to limit myself to quiet tones. I think neutrals are beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but colour is what makes my heart sing! It makes me feel alive! 

A deep and quiet love 

There is one thing about Tanzania that has inspired my work in a purely personal way, one that you may not always be able to see. My grandmother, Miggie, lives there. She is the person who taught me how to paint, and she was perhaps my biggest inspiration of all. 

Miggie and me.

Miggie had the most amazing little art studio at her house, and this is where I learned everything! When we weren’t at sea, in the bush, or exploring local markets, you would usually find me curled up at Miggie’s house (only a 10-minute drive from my home). I would spend hours copying all of Miggie’s paintings one by one, desperate to be an artist just like her. 

Miggie’s studio is where all the magic happened. Here, I learned how to use different paint mediums, and how to capture the things that I loved in colour and lines and movement. This is where I became an artist. 

Two homes are where my heart is 

It has been strange since I left Tanzania to know that my heart can be in more than one place at once. Tanzania is where I feel the most grounded, the most connected to nature. So, I know that it is vital for me to go back as often as I can so as not to lose sight of this. Life moves at a slower pace in Tanzania, whereas in England, I can feel a little like I am stuck in fast-forward. 

Slowing down and connecting.

And yet, I have always wanted to live in England. Like Tanzania, England has a lot of beauty and wilderness. It may look very different, but to me, it feels the same: something precious that we should love fully and do what we can to protect. 

After a trip to Tanzania, I always come back feeling inspired. I am ready to create, to combine the beauty of Tanzania with the beauty of England, to mix my two homes and hearts together… to make a new identity for myself. I come back to London - to this concrete jungle where flowers still grow - to tell my story and to share the importance of nature, colour, and love through my art. 

At the end of the day, if I have inspired even one person, I know that my art has meant something. 

Making Space For Giants

I had the immense privilege of working with Space for Giants last year and visiting their team at the Loisaba Conservancy in Kenya. I would love the opportunity to tell you a little about my experience with them and the vital work that they do for wildlife and conservation.

Space for Giants is on a mission to protect Africa’s remaining natural ecosystems, with a focus on the large animals within them. They are, quite literally, trying to conserve and make ‘space’ for wild animals in a world that is rapidly prioritising using all remaining space for people.

What I found especially interesting during my trip to Kenya to see first-hand what Space for Giants is trying to achieve was the unexpected challenges that can affect conservation work. For example…

Prickly Pears

Removing Prickly Pears from wild spaces.

Prickly Pear was first introduced to the conservancy in the 1970s as an ornamental living wall when the negative impacts were unknown. It was thought that the prickly cactus was a beautiful, natural way to keep wildlife out of human habitation.

Since then, it has unfortunately spread to a wider area of the Loisaba Conservancy. With animals such as elephants picking up the seeds and spreading them through their dung, prickly pear has taken over a lot of land - spoiling the indigenous natural landscape and taking space away from vegetation other animals need to survive.

Loisaba Conservancy has been able to purchase a JCB backhoe in order to help with the mechanical removal of the plant. The use of the backhoe has enabled the removal of the cactus at over five times the rate of the previous method – using large knives known as ‘pangas’, shovels and wheelbarrows.

This challenge is not one that I would have considered a ‘conservation’ challenge, but it was inspiring to see the work being done to protect remaining ecosystems.

I was also given the very great privilege of seeing some of the unique methods that conservation teams use to protect wild animals.

The Loisaba K9 Unit

Meeting the conservation experts

The Loisaba K9 unit are on the front line of protecting the wildlife of Kenya. Tracker dogs are one of the most effective tools for wildlife security, often deterring poachers from even entering an area. Over the years, these bloodhounds have proved invaluable to Loisaba’s security team. They have helped track down dozens of poachers and criminals, find missing people and return livestock to their owners, earning them their well-deserved reputation throughout Laikipia. The incredible work these tracker dogs do, combined with Kenya’s strong wildlife trophy law, which can result in imprisonment for life or a 20 million shilling fine, is a huge deterrent to poachers.

One of the last Northern White Rhinos

With my focus on wildlife art and conservation, it’s incredibly important to me to raise awareness about the urgent need to protect the critical ecosystems on which wildlife and people depend. It was such a privilege to have the opportunity to work with Space for Giants to raise awareness and funding for vital conservation work in Kenya.