Turning the Page into 2026

A new year always nudges me into a familiar ritual: I look back, I wince a little, I smile a little, and then I feel that pull to move forward, more intentionally, more honestly, more me.

2025: The year my art became clearer

In 2025, my practice didn’t just “grow.” It sharpened. I stopped trying to keep every door open and made a decision that brought relief: I narrowed my focus to watercolours as my main medium, with acrylics as my second.

That choice did something surprising: it didn’t make my world smaller. It made it deeper. Instead of jumping between materials and moods, I started building a language I can actually speak fluently.

Two mediums, two directions (that still feel like the same person)

As my technique improved, my style started to feel more like a signature than a collection of experiments.

With watercolours, I’ve been polishing my impressionistic approach: letting light, movement and atmosphere lead. I’m also increasingly drawn to urban landscapes: street corners, facades, reflections after rain, the quiet geometry of buildings next to the messiness of life. Cities give me stories without asking permission.

With acrylics, my focus has turned more inward and more philosophical. The theme I keep returning to is the passage of time: what it changes, what it erases, what it reveals. Acrylics feel right for that: they let me build layers, scrape back, insist, revise. Time does that too.

Innovation: making art easier to live with (and easier to own)

One question has been following me into 2026: What can I bring that adds something new, not just to my work, but to the community around it?

I keep thinking about accessibility. Not “cheap” accessibility, but real one. The kind that lets someone spend time with art in their hands, in their home, in their daily life, without feeling like art ownership is reserved for a certain type of person.

So I’m exploring formats that make collecting feel more playful and more reachable - objects you can interact with, revisit, share, and keep. Something that turns a painting into an experience rather than just a framed rectangle on a wall. I'll keep you questioning, at this stage... but a surprise is coming soon! 

2026: momentum, goals, and a tougher skin

This year already started with a moment that matters to me: I had an exhibition that included one of my acrylic works, centred on the theme of “What remains…”. That piece sits right at the heart of what I’m trying to say with acrylics: how time leaves traces, and how those traces become their own kind of truth.

And now I’m aiming outward.

In 2026 I’m planning to participate in more international competitions with my watercolours. I already applied to my first one this year, and it ended in a rejection.

That part stung. More than I expected.

Rejection has this special talent: it doesn’t just critique the work, it tries to rewrite the story you’re telling yourself about your ability. I let it hit me. I didn’t pretend it was fine. And then I did the only useful thing: I went back to the studio with more precision, not less confidence.

Because the honest takeaway wasn’t “I’m not good enough.” It was: I’m in the arena now.

So the plan for 2026 is simple and stubborn:

• keep refining my watercolour voice (especially impressionism and urban scenes),
• keep deepening the acrylic work around time and what lingers,
• keep submitting - more thoughtfully, more frequently,
• and keep building ways for more people to connect with my work in everyday life.

If 2025 was the year I narrowed my path, 2026 is the year I walk it with intention.

Yours truly, 

Ana