Pink Neon in the Darkness

Finding Creative Light in a Weekend of Music, Art and Colour

Here we are at the penultimate edition of this wander through the pages of The Artist’s Way. Reflecting back on the book and my thoughts and words, a lot of it is concerned with self-doubt and overcoming blocks to creativity.

This chapter is about recovering a sense of autonomy. The most important aspect of this, in my opinion, is freedom from negative thought patterns  –  crisis of confidence, reasons why not, comparisons, regret, creative paralysis.

Let’s all take a deep inhalation and exhalation and breathe that shit out.

Now doesn’t that feel better!

That doesn’t mean that it’s all rainbows and unicorns now. There will always be the dark, the shadows, the monsters, the hurt, the disappointments, the doubt and the feeling not-good-enoughs.

The Shadow and the Sandworm

But you know what is really nifty? The darkness and melancholy can be an excellent source of creative inspiration if we can harness it, rather than letting it overtake us. I find it helpful to imagine it like leaping onto the back of one of those giant sandworms from Frank Herbert’s epic Dune. In which there is also the classic dialogue, “Fear is the mind-killer – the little-death that brings total obliteration.” (If you feel like going down a philosophical rabbit hole, Reddit that quote!)

This is not going to be a story about fear or self-doubt though – and very little navel gazing from me for once, you might be happy to hear.

There will be some darkness though, but only as a backdrop for pink neon and flowers made of light.

Now sit back and enjoy a kaleidoscope of creative inspiration.

Floating on a Moment

It all started with Beth Gibbons (formerly of Bristol Trip Hop legends, Portishead) announcing an Australian tour. Initially, she was only playing Sydney and Melbourne. I did not want to miss out. So I sent this message to a friend:

“Hey Polly, wanna see Beth Gibbons at Sydney Opera House with me?”

She has two young daughters, so she had to figure things out. She got back to me an hour later:

“Book ‘em. Coming solo.”

Then I asked my teenage boys if they wanted to come. They weren’t into Beth but were keen on a Sydney weekend, and their gfs also came.

I found a beautiful heritage terrace house for us all to stay in, with views over the bay and walking distance to Sydney’s best.

My first time inside The Opera House; it was a double whammy of delight – admiring the architecture of ‘the House’ and keenly anticipating Beth.

As soon as she wandered onto the stage in her trademark jeans and bare feet, the packed audience cheered. The last time I saw Beth (fronting Portishead) was the mid-90s – and that had been one of the best shows ever, despite being at one of Melbourne’s worst venues - Festival Hall.

So, to see her again almost 30 years later, still at the top of her game, in possibly the best venue in all of Australia was next-level wonderful.

Beth was backed by an amazing band who are all incredible musicians in their own right.

After a sublime set, performing her latest album Lives Outgrown, with the audience cheering, Beth shyly mumbled into the microphone:

“Just clap a lot and we’ll come back!”

Then she wandered back onto the stage, and they played an encore full of Portishead classics. I felt I had died and gone to heaven!

Here’s a short clip of Glory Box:

Beth Gibbons performing Glory Box @ Sydney Opera House - 30 May 2025

It was an unexpected delight—musicians often prefer to leave past work behind, asking audiences to engage with who they are now. But Beth’s graceful blending of past and present felt like an act of creative autonomy in itself: a reminder that we’re not bound to one version of ourselves. We are layered, evolving, and richer for it—and so is our art.

At the end, the entire concert hall gave them a standing ovation.

One of her recent singles is named Floating on a Moment, and that’s exactly how I felt wandering out to meet up with the kids for dinner outside under the Sydney night sky, looking at the Harbour Bridge and the lights of Vivid Festival.

Tunnel Art and Vivid Delights

As if the night wasn’t already magic enough, on our wander home, we happened upon a light and ambient sound installation in a tunnel. The road was blocked off to traffic, which meant we could sit in the gutter and gaze up at the projected light and colour dreamscape. Flowers, birds, fungi and geometric shapes that flew away into the night, making way for something new.

I love humans for creating art that engages the senses, expands the mind and gladdens the heart.

Bloom - Vivid Sydney 2025

Portraits and Pears

In the morning we found a farmers market and savoured coffee and fresh pastries, sitting with our backs against a brick wall in the winter sunshine.

Then Polly and I wandered to Sydney Art Gallery, which happened to be exhibiting the Archibald finalists. What another unexpected bonus!

I was very captivated by this self-portrait by South Australian artist, Tsering Hannaford – painted with her non-dominant hand after injuring the tendon in her right wrist.

Meditation on time (a left-handed self-portrait)
Tsering Hannaford

In her self-portrait, Tsering explores identity through limitation. Who is she without the use of her dominant hand? Is she still a painter? Can her art still sustain her?

For Cameron, blocks to creativity—whether internal or external—are invitations to rediscover the deeper truth of the artistic self.

In Tsering’s case, the block was physical: the loss of her right-hand function. But rather than retreat, she taught herself to paint with her left. The resulting portrait is not just a demonstration of technical adaptability—it’s a declaration of artistic autonomy. She proved, to herself and the Archibald board, that yes, she is still a painter.

A weekend of creative inspiration and quality time with special people. Cup well and truly filled to overflowing.

And the fun didn’t end there!

My son’s girlfriend arranged for me to join in on an oil painting workshop with her mum, who is a gifted artist.

This was my first time trying out oils. Here’s my attempt at a picture of pears. This first stage is, I learnt, called the ébauche; the equivalent of a first draft, which I will paint over next week with more detail.

Creative Bank Accounts and Generosity

And one more exciting thing to tell you – I interviewed one of my favourite Australian authors, Isobelle Carmody, about creativity, and have her permission to share the video with you. So keep your eye out for that next week.

She had so many pearls of wisdom. One was that she sees her life as a balance of creative inputs and outputs.

Inputs for her include art, books, travel and life experiences. It’s all deposits into your creative bank account.

I love that.

After the last couple of delightful weeks, let’s just say that I’m good for a loan. Heck, I may even be up for some creative philanthropy.

It’s been a great reminder that spending time absorbing inspiration is just as essential to creativity as breath is to life. And that true autonomy means not becoming prisoners of our own self-doubt.

Leonie x