These little things have often helped me make sense of this one precious life. I’ve been trying to find my way over the last few years, trying to find a way of sharing my art practice that feels like me. That isn't always easy when, even at 56, you still feel like you’re working out who that is. But perhaps that is the point of everything anyway... discovering who you are and realising you may never fully arrive.

I’ve been sitting with whether to share anything at all. Part of me wants to fold this time away and keep it close. Perhaps it’s the Englishness in me — that quiet instinct that says not to make a fuss, to stay private, to carry on. But I’ve also spent years sharing pieces of life and the feelings that sit beneath it all, because that is where my work has always lived. Home, belonging, beauty, love, the ordinary things that somehow become the most important things. I read a l

For a long time, I didn’t think of myself as a brave person. But there was always something in me that wanted more. This is the story of how red began to appear in my work—and what it came to represent.

A reflective piece on radical optimism — holding both the heaviness of life and a quiet, honest sense of hope through art, creativity and everyday moments.

One of the strangest and most beautiful things about making art is that sometimes you don’t fully understand what you’re doing while you’re doing it. You simply follow what feels right. Certain colours return. Certain shapes appear again and again. You paint them because something inside you says yes, even if you couldn’t explain why. For me, red and blue have always been those colours. I’ve tried to step away from them at times, wondering if something softer or more neutral

A reflective blog on choosing nourishment over urgency, exploring a slower, more sustainable rhythm for an art practice rooted in trust rather than hustle.

Is it possible to build a business from love instead of fear? Lately I’ve been reflecting on my values, not just for art-making, but for life. When things start to feel noisy or overwhelming, going back to basics has always helped me find my footing again. What do I actually value? How do I want to spend my days? What kind of energy do I want my work to carry? One thing has become very clear: I want a soul-led, love-based business . One that isn’t built on urgency, pressure,

End-of-year reflections from the studio, thoughts on slowing down, and new art releases including a limited edition print and fine art greeting cards.

In this reflective blog, I explore the journey of running a soul-led art business while navigating the familiar anxieties of money, self-doubt, and creative uncertainty. I share how long studio hours, mindful practice, and listening to inspiring books and podcasts help me stay grounded and connected to my creative purpose. From Elizabeth Gilbert’s insights on love and liberation to Nikki Trott’s guidance on intuition-led entrepreneurship, and the raw honesty of Kate Florence’

This year has brought its fair share of challenges — pressure, deadlines, and the weight of saying yes to a third solo show in just over a year. Somewhere in the middle of it all, I found myself turning back to music. Creating and listening to a playlist full of tracks I’ve loved across the decades helped me shift my mindset, loosen my grip, and paint with more freedom. That playlist has now inspired the theme for my upcoming exhibition, Mix Tape — a collection that celebrate

Discover how Melbourne artist Amanda Ketterer explore light, dark and connection in her paintings, offering resonance beyond surface beauty

This collection comes from the hope that if we each nurture our own corner of joy — through kindness, colour, stillness, connection — maybe we raise the collective energy too. Maybe we make the world, bit by bit, into a place we’d love to call our own.