The art of being inspired by necessity | Mixed Media Artist

My work with rag paper, oil pastels, and boot polish had an unusual start. It was a method developed in a political and economic crisis in Zimbabwe. Heavily sanctioned, we couldn’t get traditional art supplies like paper for our school pupils.

Heads, together with other artists and art teachers, we planned to make our paper. In so doing, the aim was to help cash-strapped villagers in rural areas who were suffering the effects of a drought.

We bought cast-off overalls from industrial workers and distributed them to villagers. Using old bicycle parts, the villagers were shown how to break down the materials into mulch. The mulch was spread on chicken wire, into sheets of paper. Once dry, various schools bought the paper.

The paper was not sized enough. It was not suitable for water-based paints; however, it was ideal for drawing. The students were taught how to use it. Oil pastels, soft and easy to apply, were a perfect medium.

In 1999, art students’ work was marked in the UK. Those of you who work in oil pastels know that oil pastels need a drying medium to help them dry. Again, sanctions dictated, and we had to make our drying agent, and hence the use of Shoe polish, made with paraffin, became an excellent drying agent.

I transported a considerable quantity of this paper, as well as banana leaf paper, in my suitcase when my family and I immigrated to the UK in 2001. Now well over 20 years old, I am still using the same paper to demonstrate my use of oil pastels and shoe polish.

Each time I reach for one of those aged, handmade sheets, I am reminded of the resilience and inventiveness that crisis can inspire. The texture carries echoes of hands that pulped fibre beside sun-bleached huts and the laughter of students discovering art with whatever tools we could muster. Over the years, I’ve watched these papers become a living archive, bearing the imprint of Zimbabwe’s hardship, the vibrancy of children’s first sketches, and my own evolving practice. In workshops, people marvel at the rich, organic surface and the surprising brilliance of pastels burnished by humble shoe polish. This story, woven into every demonstration, is one of adaptability—a testament to how art survives, transforming scarcity into something enduring and unexpectedly beautiful.