The MUSEletter - Introduction
Dear friends,
I’ve often thought about starting a newsletter. A way to keep you updated on my projects, my process, what’s been inspiring me and where it’s taking me.
For those who don’t know, I do a lot of things—painting, drawing, animating, directing plays. While they might seem separate, to me, they’re all connected. At their core, they’re my way of exploring the deepest, darkest reasons of existence. What it means to be human. To persevere. Joe. Alive on Earth. Often it’s with a focus on the minutiae—the flowers in a hedgerow, hair in the wind, the smile across the room, a stormy walk at night.
I see it as my job to notice things, feel them, chew them over, and send them back out into the world a fraction more digested. A conversation started between you and me. My hope is that these pieces touch down into your life with some of the hard work already done—a little reminder that you’re not alone.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved sensory and visual experiences. Places where my mind can wander, fall into corners and shapes that feel new. Over time, I’ve developed a muscle that frequently and consistently allows me to access that part of my unconscious. I don’t think in straight lines. My thoughts (and sentences) scatter, curl, and drift. My way to reach this state? Routine.
I am consistent in my daily practice. My regular encounter with the muse. I show up daily to my studio (in Wivenhoe), where I’ve worked for the past eight years. I’ve been practicing regularly in some art form since I was 13 when I made my first hand-drawn animation on my bedroom wall. It took me six months of regularly showing up. My parents didn’t bat an eyelid. If anything, they were overjoyed. I guess they knew what I was doing, what I was undertaking.
It was from then, instinctively, that I understood: it’s the process that matters more than the finished piece. The process encountered consistently is the work. The consequence of this effort is that the journey creates value which in turn liberates the finished piece. The final stroke, the full stop becomes less daunting, less important.
As the prolific and wise record producer, Rick Rubin says:
“We tend to think of the artist’s work as the output. The real work of the artist is a way of being in the world.”
I think of Odysseus: it wasn’t the destination that defined him, but the trials, the storms, the pain and the act of going. The decision to show up and continue moving forward.
So, here’s where my journey is leading me: a newsletter. Perhaps more fittingly called a ‘MUSEletter’. I realised recently that the next chapter in my journey is to release more of my work out into the world. And what better way to do that than with a routine! The routine of sending out my thoughts, ideas, creations every week. A way to let you all in and give you a consistent structured insight.
I’ve been sharing more prints of my work lately, and the response has been incredible. Thank you for sticking with me, for following along so far. And to those who have bought one, it means the world. The feedback has made me realise I want to share with you all more consistently—not just finished pieces, but the inspiration, process, and the moments in between.
The Museletter will arrive in your inbox every Sunday evening. It’ll be a space for the things I’ve been inspired by that week, the colours that have appeared on my palette, an exhibition I’ve been to, maybe a song I can’t stop playing.
(Lately, it’s Leonard Cohen’s First We Take Manhattan. What is it about his voice? The way he says “Berlin”? I feel like I’m out with him on an endless night of dazzling lights and smoky rooms.)
For this to be a conversation - I’d love to hear from you too—what’s inspired you this week? A song, a thought, a colour you can’t forget?
But for now, I’d love for you to join me in this creative experiment. If it’s not your thing, no hard feelings. If it is, I hope it’ll be a little moment of connection, of inspiration you look forward to.
Here’s to the journey.
See you Sunday,
Joe