Natalie Rymer: A Life in Colour, A Life in Art.

I was born in Surrey in 1974, into a very creative household. Both my parents are artists, they met while studying at Camberwell School of Art so growing up art was just part of my everyday life. Drawing, painting, noticing the world around me... it all came very naturally, and my parents always encouraged me to keep exploring.

When I was little, I went to a small Rudolf Steiner nursery school. Looking back, I think that experience had a big impact on me. Steiner education is all about nurturing creativity and letting children discover things at their own pace, learning through play, rhythm, and imagination. I loved it. Around that same time, I had a Paul Klee Senecio print hanging in my bedroom, and I’m sure the colours and shapes from that piece stayed with me, they still influence my work now.

As a child, I was always drawing. I’d sit with a pencil and paper while watching TV or just fill sketchbooks for hours. We visited galleries often as a family, and I entered a few art competitions too, one of which I won on Saturday Superstore TV program, which was a big deal at the time! I think that’s when I started to realise that art might be something I could do more seriously.

By the time I was 14, I knew I wanted to go in the direction of either art or sport. I actually really enjoyed tennis and still play today. School wasn’t always easy for me, I really was not academic, but art and sport were the things I could really connect with. My art teacher at the time was incredibly supportive, and with her encouragement, I went on to study a two-year diploma in Art and Design.

That led me to Wimbledon School of Art, where I specialised in fine art. It was an amazing time, I met some truly inspiring people, including one of my artistic heroes, John Hoyland. I was also lucky to be taught by wonderful mentors like Prunella Clough and Michael Porter. My final degree show focused on childhood and colour, two themes that continue to be at the heart of my work. I still remember a moment during that show when a small child ran up to a character I’d painted on the wall and hugged it. My tutor said it was one of the most genuine, moving reactions he’d seen and honestly, that moment has stayed with me ever since.

After University I found it hard to keep painting. I’d gone through a really intense few years creatively, and I hit a wall, I was completely burnt out. It wasn’t until my daughters were born and I had a studio space in the garden that I felt ready to pick up a paintbrush again. A good friend encouraged me to start making monotypes, and I slowly began sharing my work online, I made a Facebook page and started posting images.

That’s when things really began to grow. I took part in open studios, showed work in local galleries, and my Facebook page quickly took off. It allowed me to connect directly with people who loved my work, and I built a loyal following. Over time, I developed a style that felt very me, layered, colourful, textured, and full of movement. My paintings began to sell through galleries and online, and I’ve been lucky enough to have them published as prints, cards, cushions, and even sold in high street stores and showing paintings at a gallery as far aways as Australia!

Of course, it hasn’t always been smooth sailing. Like many creatives, I’ve dealt with anxiety and burnout, especially during the busiest periods. There were times when I worked non-stop and completely ran myself into the ground. I’ve had to learn to pace myself and prioritise my wellbeing. These days, I try to create from a place of balance, not pressure and I’m really grateful to be in that space now.

I couldn’t have done any of this without the support of my family. My parents have been by my side through every step, not just inspiring me creatively but encouraging me to keep going and my husband has been a rock always there behind the scenes, cheering me on, helping me stay grounded. I honestly wouldn’t be doing what I’m doing today without them.

There’s a story I always come back to, a courier who used to pick up and deliver my work told me about an elderly man with dementia, he hadn’t responded to much for a long time but when one of my paintings was hung on the wall in his home, his face lit up and he smiled. That moment, that tiny connection reminded me exactly why I paint.

It’s not just about making something that looks nice on a wall. It’s about creating something that stirs a feeling or memory. Something that connects.

When I look at where I am now, I honestly never could’ve imagined it. I get to paint for a living. I’ve built a life that includes time in Tuscany, surrounded by olive trees, sunshine, and all the little wonders of Italian life. It’s a dream that’s grown slowly over the years rooted in colour, nature, family, and a love for creating.

I don’t take any of it for granted. Every painting, every brushstroke feels like I’m still that girl sitting cross-legged on the floor with a sketchpad, soaking up the world and putting it down on paper just with a few more layers of life added in.

Thank you for reading x