Sabrina Chevrier was drifting off to sleep when the universe finally answered her call.
The Gold Coast resident had pleaded for a big idea that would allow her to follow her dream of becoming an artist while also making a living.
When inspiration struck, delivering a concept that would up-end her life, she was ready.
She immediately reached for her phone and texted a friend.
“[I said to her] Hey, I got this amazing idea. Hope I’m not waking you up. Let’s talk tomorrow,'” Chevrier said.
That soon led to the launch of her first “paint and sip” event, where instead of illustrating a vase of flowers or a beach landscape, participants would paint an image of themselves, naked.
“I wasn’t only inspired, I was absolutely terrified by this idea,” she said.
Before attending, participants would send Chevrier the nude image and she would sketch an outline on canvas for them to paint during the workshop.
“I was like: ‘How are people going to perceive this?” she said.
“Are people going to think it’s super weird?”
But to her relief, she said the feedback had been overwhelmingly positive, particularly around the message of body positivity it promoted.
She said if people were not comfortable painting themselves naked, they could be covered up or use a generic image.
“I just thought it was such a beautiful way to gather women and have conversations about all the things that we’re fed every day about beauty standards,” she said.
“Whether it’s ageing, being a new mum … every single woman goes through some challenges and some of us also get out of those and can inspire others.”
The artist has now left the Gold Coast and is travelling Australia in her van, running events in the communities she travels through.
“I just love meeting all the women. And seeing what everyone creates,” Chevrier said.
Although being an artist is not easy in 2024 — particularly given cost-of-living pressures — Chevrier is among a number of creative types to find success through fresh ideas.
When Pat McCarthy was a teenager, living in Denmark on Western Australia’s south coast, he faced a tension many artists would recognise.
The “older, wiser” people in his life were telling him to go to university or do a trade, but after being lucky enough to learn the art of surfboard crafting from a master of the business, the creative world was calling.
But he decided to make the “sensible choice” and eventually moved to Beagle Bay to work as a schoolteacher.
Without waves to surf or boards to make, he developed a new passion for fishing, which eventually led McCarthy back to art.
“We were catching and then filleting and throwing [the fish] skins away,” he said.
“And I thought there was something you could do with the skins.”
That led him to his trademark “fish on fish skins” concept — where he takes the fish skin, dries it out, presses it onto a flat piece of timber, covers it in a layer of resin, and draws an image of the fish the skin once belonged to on top.
“Some people think it’s gross,” he laughs.
“And other people think it’s really cool.
“But it’s definitely original. I don’t think there’s anyone else doing exactly what I’m doing, which gives me some satisfaction.”
McCarthy said he made the call at the end of last year to let go of his part-time teaching contract in Esperance, a town on WA’s south coast where he moved in 2017, to focus on his art.
But he said cost-of-living pressures and inflation were making things tough, and with surfboard material costs going up dramatically since the pandemic, he was relying on casual teaching work more than he had anticipated.
“I’ve got four kids at home to feed,” he said.
“So from a stress point of view, the balance that I’ve got is pretty close to working.
“But long term, I’d definitely love to do solely the fish and boards.”
His advice to budding artists?
“You need to come to the point where you realise your work has value and your time has value,” he said.
“Don’t be scared to back yourself and put numbers on things that you think your product is worth. Don’t undersell yourself.”
It was only after becoming a mum that Kalgoorlie-based Linda Rae dove into the art world full time.
Although she went to art school, she too felt under pressure to “get a real job” and went on to work as an electrician.
But, suddenly surrounded by other mothers, she sensed an opportunity.
“I stepped into doing belly painting,” Rae said.
“We’d paint all the pregnant ladies and get their photo taken, make them feel special for the day.”
It helped build a following and led to bigger, more varied projects, including a portfolio of portraits painted during the pandemic and large public art pieces.
She believed maintaining diversity was the key because it kept her interested and insulated her income stream.
Although she worked to strike a balance between “passion projects” and ones that kept the money coming in, she said any experience created opportunities.
“[Every project] builds your reach. You meet new people, it gets your experience out there,” she said.
“And it gives you example works to use when you’re looking for or applying for new jobs.”
Rae said any artist setting out to build a career in 2024 needed to be their own “biggest champion”.
“Don’t let people tell you ‘it’s just a hobby’,” she said.
“If you want it to be more than that, it’s OK.
“And it’s quite important for our community as well — without arts, what is the reason for living?”