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?