Kelly: This all started about 17 years ago. I'd always been creative, but growing up in the nineties, pursuing art as a career wasn't really encouraged. In my early twenties, while travelling in Central America, I discovered that illustration was something people were actually doing professionally overseas.
I never exclusively wanted to pursue art as a career—I wanted to travel, and art seemed like a way to enable that lifestyle. It was this pivotal moment where I thought, "I can do this travel thing if I'm freelance, so I'll just decide I'm a freelance designer now.
I started with graphic design and illustration for gigs and theatre productions around Wellington. The hand lettering came naturally—I'd always done it without realising it was a specific skill. Then sign painting led to murals about seven or eight years ago when I thought, "This is all fun, but what's more fun is doing it really big."
Kelly: No university degree here! I did a six-month course when I moved to Wellington—something digital-related that I can't even remember the name of. For me, it was more about accountability and getting familiar with the Adobe Suite. Everything else I learned by doing and hoping for the best.
Kelly: I started small with those council utility boxes—you know, the power boxes on street corners that councils get artists to decorate. They're about two metres square, so they're like a big canvas.
Kelly: Exactly! But my first large-scale mural was self-initiated. I'd just painted at the Sea Walls Festival in Napier—12 by 4 metres, which felt massive at the time. Straight after, I spotted this blank wall at Wellington's marina and contacted the council's arts lead. I basically said, "This is your wall, I want to paint it."
Katie, who worked there, was amazing. She said, "You're not doing this for free," and helped me get funding. The key lesson? Don't wait for someone to ask you. Self-initiated projects are powerful—you can make things happen yourself.
Kelly: Not as much as I'd like to. You get what I call "blank wall syndrome"—you see potential everywhere. But client work keeps me busy. I actually have permission for a wall on the east coast that I've been meaning to paint for four years! Maybe this decade I'll get to it.
Kelly: Word of mouth, honestly. I know that's not the answer everyone wants to hear, but it's been my main source of work. Living in New Zealand helps—it's like a tiny village where everyone knows someone who knows someone.
I eventually added a form to my website asking "How did you hear about me?" because I was curious. Some people do find me through Google, but mostly it's referrals.
Each mural becomes a business card for the next one, especially since my name is usually associated with the work in a way that commercial illustration sometimes isn't.
Kelly: I hear about people doing outreach, which sounds great. I've tried a few times but haven't seen much come from it. Staying visible seems to help, and we have everyone's favourite platform for that—Instagram. Each thing I do feeds into the next one.
Kelly: Incredibly important. I grew up around photography—my parents had a studio in our house when I was little. Documenting everything has been instinctive since childhood.
I still use a proper DSLR camera because phone cameras, even fancy iPhones, just aren't good enough for what I need. I want my work presented in the best possible way. Those satisfying brush stroke videos everyone loves on Instagram? I love making them too, though trying to hold a phone while making perfect brush strokes is definitely a challenge!
Kelly: Honestly? Just existing for a long time and being present. During my Wellington years, I went to gigs and I knew people in entertainment and hospitality, which led to early work. I wouldn't call it networking—I can barely remember that word exists. It was just about genuine connections.
Those city years definitely helped, though it would be harder to replicate now since the internet has changed everything. I really don't know what getting started would look like today.
Kelly: It's what being human is all about—connection with other people. In every project, there are so many people behind it who've been instrumental. On festivals, that's lots of people absolutely looking after artists, a whole community, not just the client.
The one you probably saw recently was full community paint-by-numbers. We got all the outlines up and invited anyone who wanted to paint to come paint. It's hectic but so fun! Watching people who don't usually get to hold a brush and put paint on a wall without getting in trouble—that's a really specific kind of joy.
Kelly: LOLI is this magical thing that happened almost by accident. We're five friends who've been working together for 10 years now, going to conferences and events around New Zealand to capture conversations through live illustration.
We do more than just quick sketches—we synthesise what's happening and pull out the gems of conversations, turning them into full illustrations. People can see their voices heard visually, and they get to look at discussions from our outside perspective. It works because most humans don't want to read notes—that's boring.
The best part is the beautiful conversations we have with attendees afterwards. People tell us it makes conferences more exciting. We're essentially siblings at this point, and we make sure to have proper hang time that's not just business.
Kelly: Yeah, we're so lucky and we know it. We make sure we get some deep hang times at least once a year.
Kelly: My work has always been about speaking for the natural environment—all the non-human species that support our world. That's my brand: plants, animals, and everything around them. It's really important to me to use my work as a voice encouraging people to acknowledge the beautiful system we're sharing with other species.
I don't have a traditional logo—I just hand-letter my name because otherwise, I'd have to change it every six months! The things I care about deeply can't be separated from my art.
I absolutely love colour—lush colour palettes that speak to people, which I'm grateful for because choosing colours takes almost as long as the design itself. I'm obsessive about it.
I've gone through different phases: animals when I was younger, then a deep ocean period, and now I'm focused on land-based plants. Since moving back to the east coast and building a veggie garden, I'm literally painting vegetables. And lately, I'm obsessed with seeds—I'm calling it my "seed era." The formations that plant seeds take are insane and so intricate. I don't know what happens after the seed thing—maybe it'll be esoteric weird stuff that's intangible!
Kelly: Totally. Hopefully people want to come along for that ride. So far so good!
Kelly: By moving. Some people have more tolerance for being transient than others, but movement doesn't have to mean travel—it can just be keeping energy flowing. I avoid structure, for better or worse, because then I can't stagnate.
I love travel because I know variation keeps the fire burning inside me. As long as that fire is well-stoked, creativity can come. Though these days travel is hard on my heart because of carbon concerns.
Movement creates an environment within myself for change and growth. It doesn't have to be monumental—even changing where you work, going for a walk, or visiting a gallery can break cycles and move energy around.
Kelly: Exactly. It's different for everybody, but change is good and healthy. It doesn't have to be monumental.
Kelly:
Being your own voice. It's probably a cliché for a reason, but it's the only way to be good at being human and being an artist—don't try to be someone else's voice.
That's really hard these days, especially with social media constantly showing you what others are doing.
I always try to come back home to that. Yes, I might like how someone else draws, but I don't draw like them—I draw like me. It's about working out what's important to you and doing that. That's when I feel most balanced when the pendulum swings to the middle and it's "this is me, this is what's important."
When you're fuelled by that authenticity, your best work will hopefully come out. Not always—sometimes it's just terrible—but that's part of the process too.
July 2, 2025
Brand Your Passion