Boardroom to backstreets

Going from a boardroom to the back streets of Kenya was one of the most liberating experiences of my life. I have always had a real heart for Africa. There is something wholesome about watching people live their daily lives with the most simplistic things, and somehow traffic, animals, children, and market stalls all merge into one moving rhythm. It is chaotic and calm at the same time. A vibrancy of colour, culture and entrepreneurship that feels alive in a way you cannot replicate anywhere else.

I went as part of a train the trainer group, but I also wanted to use art as a way to connect with the communities we were with. Art is a universal language. When cultural differences or language barriers could easily get in the way, art cuts straight through it. You do not need the same words to understand each other. You just need a brush, a colour, a moment of shared expression.

Painting with the children in Nairobi’s informal settlements was one of the most grounding experiences I have ever had. No noise from the outside world. No pressure. No fluff. Just people standing side by side, creating something together. Watching them add their fingerprints to the tree mural, seeing their pride, feeling their excitement, it reminded me that creativity is a connector. It is dignity. It is hope.

Cross cultural connection makes us stronger. Standing with women in leadership there, hearing their stories, seeing their resilience, it shifted something in me. It reminded me that leadership is not about titles or polished presentations. It is about presence. It is about service. It is about showing up with what you have and using it to lift someone else.

That trip still shapes how I work today. It stripped everything back to what actually matters. People. Connection. Purpose. And the belief that creativity, in any form, can change the atmosphere of a room and the direction of a life.

More Time than Money…..and Accidentally Starting a Business

For the first time since my 16‑year‑old self over the six‑week summer holiday, I’ve found myself with more time thank money, thanks to signing up for a Master’s in Business and taking a Mission trip to Kenya. With the festive season leaning in, my academically heavy days welcomed a side project: making Christmas gifts for friends and family. Creating my own cards and having a creative outlet felt like a breath of fresh air.

After more than a decade in the corporate world at L’Oréal, I rarely had the time for such hobby indulgences.

Rediscovering Creativity I’d Packed Away

I’ve always been creative, and people seem to like the things I make. Pottery, painting, little handmade bits, they’re usually well received when I’ve had the time. During the height of my busyness, people would ask, “Have you painted anything lately?” Cue the guilty feeling… and a quiet longing to be creative.

The ironic thing is that I completely missed doing art past Year 7 (a story for another time), so honestly, you’re all far more qualified than me. I enjoy the self‑discovery of being self‑taught, but if I’m honest, it does make me feel a touch insecure,  like some pro art student will appear and say, “You’re doing this wrong!” I know that’s just self‑doubt talking, but still.

A Christmas Project That Lit a Spark

Back to my Christmas ambitions: I bought some keepsake‑style tins and hand‑painted the jars using glass paint and acrylics, then hand‑poured them with candles. Gourmet scents like vanilla sponge cake and chocolate cookie made an appearance , fitting, really, since my favourite brands to work on at L’Oréal were fragrances. They tap into a different dimension. I added other fun scents like orange blossom too.

My favourite part, and the key to any potential success , was showing a couple of friends who said, “I’d pay money for this.” Ping. A spark. Isn’t it funny how a few kind, encouraging words can act like a turbo boost?

A little village Christmas fair came up, so I booked a table, created cute colour‑coordinated price lists. I completely sold out of little robins and other Christmas pieces. Even better, someone asked to buy more the following week. No card machine, no business… but enough for a seed to be planted. An avenue to bring together my business background, my MBA journey, and my creativity into something new.

The Power of Encouragement

It’s amazing how one small moment of encouragement can shift everything , like someone handing you a turbo‑boost button you didn’t know you needed.

And that’s really where this story begins: a tiny spark, a few kind words, and the possibility of something bigger.

The Mural I Never Planned to Paint

We redecorated our lounge with a gorgeous Farrow & Ball colour, Parma Grey  a soft, muted blue  which flowed into the adjoining dining room that we kept in a gentle cream. Somewhere between the paint samples, the dust sheets, and the general chaos of redecorating, I had a moment of boldness (or creative madness) and decided to paint my first ever mural.

I stuck with two colours to match both rooms, mixing different shades to create depth and softness. Slowly, almost shyly, an elephant and her baby began to emerge. You know that moment when wall paint dries patchy and you get a sudden wave of dread? I remember standing there mid‑painting, not overly pleased, deading that im messing up the wall but pressing on anyway. I kept shaping, blending, stepping back, leaning in again. Finally, semi‑satisfied, I walked away and let it dry.

And then,  wow. What a beauty emerged.

Adding depth to the lounge area separated the rooms nicely, replacing a long, bland wall with something purposeful. The elephant intertwined beautifully with the space. It became the most‑loved feature in the living room. People would say, “You did that?” and I would respond   “way better than I expected!” Picturing the dread before it dried. Some even thought it was a sticker. I wasn’t sure whether to be chuffed or slightly offended by that one.

Why Elephants?

Elephants have always held a place in my heart. Growing up in South Africa, our summer holidays involved staying in a lodge on a safari resort. It’s the dry heat that settles on your skin, the lazy afternoons spent bird‑watching, the quietness that rests your soul.  And then the sudden shock when something stirs at the waterhole. I’d absorb the excitement from others, listening to whispered guesses about which animal might appear next, learning all the little traits and behaviours that make the bush come alive.

Those huge, gentle giants were part of the landscape of my memories: powerful yet peaceful, enormous yet tender, graceful yet a little clumsy too. They carried a presence that stayed with me long after the holiday ended.

Years later, we visited an elephant sanctuary in Thailand, sleeping in wooden cabins surrounded by them. We fed them, washed them, worked hard alongside the keepers. Each elephant had a name, a story, and a friendship with their carers. There’s something grounding about being near an animal that size, a mix of fear, respect, and a sense of responsibility to care for them.

So when I picked up the paintbrush, elephants felt like the most natural thing to paint, especially with the colours I had in front of me. It became a reminder to believe in myself , to stop being surprised every time I create something good, and a reminder of the encouragement of others, which always seems to arrive at the right moment.

From Wall to Artwork

For my candles, I wanted to share my original artwork as well as illustrated pieces, so I took a photograph of the mural and edited it in Photoshop. I removed the background, balanced the colours, and turned it into a digital print. It’s lovely to share a piece of art that now lives beyond the four walls of my lounge.

It’s funny how creativity works. One moment you’re painting over a patchy wall, doubting every brushstroke, and the next you’re looking at something that feels like a piece of your story.

Have you ever surprised yourself by creating something you didn’t know you were capable of, or is it just me?