Owning what you have created

A reflection on self-belief, and the gentle courage it takes to be seen.

I started my last Substack with the words “I have lost myself this past year and a half” and I went on to talk about how maybe it was just about taking some down time for a while. Well, I feel like I am emerging from that and have come out the other side of the Creative Light Festival feeling like I understand. Like a lightbulb has been switched on, maybe a dimmable one, because it’s not that instant or dramatic. More, a slow realisation that I need to own things more.

I always say that I’d love more people to stand proudly next to their photography or artwork and say “I love this”. Yet, most nice and humble people instead apologise for it being slightly out of focus or “I wish I’d got a better angle”, instead of simply being proud.

How often do we accept a compliment on our clothes gracefully? How often do we say, “Oh, I have had this for ages?” I’ve been consciously working on that for years and am beginning to finally accept compliments.

At the festival, as I stood beside Jo, who helped me organise things and she said, “Take a moment and see what you’ve done, and enjoy that.” We looked over a community hall filled with people: some creating digital cyanotypes, some excitedly sharing their handmade mini books from Adrian Beasley’s workshop and others just coming in after having had a morning out on Harris beaches, windswept and alive. You could just feel the creative sparks and friendships throughout the room. I could see it, but through a fog, not quite fully able to absorb it and feel proud or accept it was my doing. I put it down to tiredness and having to make sure the projector was set up for the talks in half an hour.

A week later I ran an online meeting for my Creative Haven group, the community I started in 2020 whilst living in my Airbnb because I was so sick from Covid for over a year that I couldn’t manage the stairs in the house. The pod was ideal because I could literally roll from the bed to the desk to work for a while. I began the group because I saw people reaching out with a need for community and connection at a distressing and isolating time and when creativity became a lifeline. That upsurge eventually evened out as life got busy again, but my group remains five years on.

On Saturday, we chatted about long exposures and I joked about how I get some of my images because I don’t buy expensive camera equipment, so therefore don’t worry about the sea soaking them. Gyles pointed out something to me that was so obvious, but I hadn’t realised in all my years photographing the sea - that “You just want to make people feel like they are IN the sea”. I realised how nice the community was, even though it is smaller than when it was originally five years ago, we have become closer and zoom still has a place for creating connections and joy. I realised that I created this.

I tend to shy away from promoting myself, despite being good at social media. Self promotion and marketing are still tricky for me. It’s maybe why hardly anyone in Harris knew that the biggest gathering Tarbert had seen in months was happening until finally printed leaflets and wrote an article for the local paper a few weeks before. I usually put my terrible marketing down to being too busy, juggling the roles of artist, marketer, accountant, web builder, content creator, and anything else that needs doing in the business all rolled into one. But maybe it runs deeper.

Maybe marketing is like accepting compliments. We’re taught to be nice, humble, quiet girls — not to flaunt, not to take up space. I struggle in particular with repeatedly posting about events coming up. The Isle of Harris page on Facebook is a good example, where many small businesses post daily about where you can find them and what they are up to. Even tourists repeatedly post the same picture of the Seilebost lay-by and make bold claims abut leaving pieces of their heart on the island each week, and yet I struggle to share the amazing things I have been doing on Harris.

Maybe it’s just practice, like when “going live” terrified me a few years ago and I rehearsed over and over offline, and now it feels second nature.

I wrote the words down on a notepad hastily the other day after seeing them on social media somewhere “I am where I am because I have the audacity of a man.” I don’t believe all men have audacity and women don’t, but it stirred something in me.

I realised that maybe I need to own things a little more and to see clearly what I have created: an incredible online community and an amazing festival that grew from my perception of what people needed at the time, connection during isolation and reconnection in person the years of lockdowns.

During the festival someone came up to me and said “It’s like we are having a big family get together for four days”

Someone else said “It’s so nice that you can feel ok about going and sitting down at the table next to anyone, even if you don’t know them, and know that they will just turn to you and start talking to you”

That’s what I set out to create. A truly unique gathering where everyone is accepted, supportive of each other, kind to each other and encouraging of creative pursuits. There is no competition or ego or hierarchy allowed and the tone is set by myself and runs down through each person.

So, here I am, proud and happy to have built what I have. I’ve realised that shrinking myself wouldn’t be helping anyone and if anything it does a disservice to others I may be able to reach out and help.

Yesterday, I opened my Mac and was determined to get out of my comfort zone. I shared one of my visual meditations from YouTube to the Isle of Harris page on Facebook and I nominated myself for the Visit Outer Hebrides awards, even though I think there are others with much bigger profiles on the island and I may have little chance of winning. I did these things for myself and knowing by putting myself out there, I in turn help others find their own confidence.

And maybe that’s where it starts - quietly, imperfectly, but bravely, owning it.

The Galerie hosts Joe Cornish & an Art Journalling workshop

I managed to get The Galerie complete and ready for visitors just in time for the festival (with much help from friends) and I opened the doors for the week. I had a visit from Joe Cornish who was running a workshop on the island and brought his group in to shelter from the storm a while. Tricia made a lovely apple cake and brought coffee over for the group and we chatted while Storm Amy whirled around the building. Joe is the loveliest, most humble and talented person who I had the pleasure of working with at the last Creative Light Festival in the Cairngorms. He currently has a new exhibition with Simon Baxter at Nunnington Hall which would make a lovely visit - All the Worlds A stage

Myself and Carien Borst ran an art Journalling workshop in the Galerie in the days before the festival.

It was so lovely to see everyone embrace creative expression. After an initial pause and a few worried looks, they soon dived in once we encouraged them to simply play with paint on paper without any pressure to create something specific. Paper napkins with flowers and wallpapers and sand found their way into several paintings and some incredible sea creatures also began to emerge in ink. Creativity truly filled the Galerie that day, marking a wonderful beginning to its new life. I’ll be opening officially in spring 2026, but in the meantime, you can visit by appointment if you get in touch!

A. S. Apothecary now stocking my Art Prints

I am truly delighted that Amanda from A.S Apothecary has agreed to stock my art prints on the shelves amongst her balms, sprays and tinctures created from the land. Prints on Hahnemule fine art paper from a new collection of paintings - “Liminal” Series. Available at the Apothecary in Leverburgh, Harris, in person at the moment!

They will be available online in the coming weeks when my online shop opens on the 3rd November for two weeks.

Chocolate Cake

I love baking and cooking as a way of relaxing and have shared many healthy recipes on here previously. But sometimes a chocolate cake is just called for. I have been baking this one for many years - I had it in my recipe book from 2008 and it lives on! Mary Berry is a classic and this one is so easy it took me 4 mins to put together this morning. It’s definitely not healthy, but it is homemade and very comforting.

2 loose-bottomed 20 cm (8 in) sandwich tins, 4 cm (1½ in) deep.

Oven 160°C/325°F/Gas Mark 3

275g (10 oz)plain flour

3 tbspcocoa powder

1½ tspbicarbonate of soda

1½ tspbaking powder215g

(7½ oz)caster sugar

3 tbspgolden syrup

3eggs, beaten

225 ml (8 fl oz)sunflower oil

225 ml (8 fl oz)milk

Icing

I tend to make it up with half a block of butter / a lot of icing sugar, a spoon of cocoa powder, some milk and apologies for the lack of quantities.

Thanks for reading and wishing you a lovely day,

Margaret x