About the Artist

The countryside became something bigger than a place. It felt like freedom.

Some of my favourite childhood memories were the trips back to the family dairy farm. Getting up before dawn. Watching mist roll through the hills while the cows were milked. Scooping fresh cream off the top of the milk for breakfast. Getting dirty and not worrying about ruining good clothes.

There was something about those places that always felt different. Looking back now, I think it was the feeling of space. Not just physical space.

Space to breathe.

Space to think.

Space to hear your own thoughts.

Space to simply be me.

Years later, when my husband and I packed up our suburban life and moved to the countryside, I realised I had been searching for that feeling all along.

Living amongst the hills and open spaces gave me something back that I didn't realise I'd been missing. It gave me 'me' back.

The countryside has a way of doing that.

When I'm standing in a misty paddock at dawn, watching the first light touch the hills, something in me settles. The noise falls away. Life slows down. The pressure to constantly keep up, improve or perform seems less important.

What's left feels steady.

Familiar.

Like home.

That's the feeling I find myself returning to in my paintings.

Working primarily in watercolour, I paint the Australian countryside through the lens of the stories that shaped me. The rolling hills, misty valleys, old gates and quiet roads that appear throughout my work are all invitations into places that feel timeless, familiar and deeply personal.

One of the most moving moments of my career came when I delivered a painting to a collector. She stood looking at it for a moment, turned to me and said, "It just speaks to me." Then she burst into tears.

I never asked why.

I simply gave her a hug and said 'thank you'. Because in that moment, I realised something important. The most meaningful part of creating art isn't the painting itself.

It's what happens after.

It's when a painting stops being my story and becomes part of someone else's.

Over the years, I've had collectors share memories of childhood farms, grandparents, country roads and places they thought they'd forgotten. Others simply tell me they don't know why a painting speaks to them, only that it does.

And honestly, I think that's the magic of art.

Once a painting leaves my studio, its story is no longer mine to tell.

My hope is that my paintings become more than something beautiful hanging on a wall.

That they become part of your story.

A familiar place you return to each day.

A reminder to slow down, breathe deeply and enjoy a quiet moment of your own.

Because I think we all deserve a little more space for that.

Thank you so much for being here and supporting my work.

With smiles & kindness,

Jay Xo