The Giraffe That Started It All

On June 29th, three years ago, I booked a stall at Sherborne Market on a total whim. No artwork, no setup, no plan — just a nudge from somewhere deep inside that said, go for it. Classic me, really. Back then I didn’t know I had ADHD, but looking back, it explains a lot — especially the fact that I committed to a full-on market pitch with absolutely nothing to put on the table. Literally.

I borrowed a 6-foot table from my mother-in-law, pinched her garden gazebo (the type you pray won’t take off in a strong breeze), and started frantically drawing. I picked up my pencils and charcoal and drew animals until I had something — anything — to show the world. And without quite realising it, that decision — messy, impulsive, chaotic — changed everything.

One of the very first drawings I finished for that stall was this giraffe — tongue out, full of attitude, and now a bit of a personal mascot. I didn’t know it at the time, but he’d end up being my first commercial piece as a professional artist. He was the start of it all

The Giraffe That Started It All!

The Market That Made Me

When the day actually came, I dragged my borrowed setup to Sherborne Market — table, gazebo, and a handful of drawings in tow. I’d managed to finish maybe six to eight pieces: dogs, people, a few animals, just enough to show what I could do if someone took a chance on me. I wasn’t expecting much — maybe a few kind comments, or a polite smile or two.

But instead, people stopped. They chatted. They complimented my work. Some even took my number to ask about commissions — me, a complete unknown with a wobbly table and a head full of self-doubt. It absolutely floored me.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve struggled with imposter syndrome. (Again, probably tied to the undiagnosed ADHD I didn’t yet realise I had.) I’ve been brilliant at self-sabotage. But that day? The doubt melted away. For once, I didn’t feel like a fraud — I felt like an artist.

Markets still do that for me. Even now, after hundreds of commissions and original pieces, that little voice of doubt still crops up. But standing behind a table, hearing people react to my work with warmth or laughter or wonder — it brings me back to earth in the best possible way.

My First ever Market

From One Table to a Whole Career

Since that very first Sherborne Market, I’ve done hundreds of events — from tiny local stalls to full-blown county shows. I now have a regular pitch at Clarks Village in Street, surrounded by big-brand neighbours and loyal customers who come to say hello (and bring their dogs for cuddles). I’ve sold original artwork for hundreds of pounds, painted everything from horses to octopuses, and turned a whim into a job that I genuinely love.

But it hasn’t just been the work that’s kept me going — it’s been the people. Along the way, I’ve made some of the most brilliant, supportive friends I could’ve hoped for — fellow stallholders, customers who’ve become regulars, cheerleaders who’ve followed my journey from the start. Their encouragement, advice, and daft market-day conversations have been just as important as the sales.

And then there’s my family — who’ve wrangled toddlers, carried crates, and reminded me I can do this, especially when I wasn’t so sure. My stepdad, Nick, has stood beside me at countless stalls, held gazebos down in wind tunnels, and never let me give up on myself. And my husband, John, quietly holds the fort at home while I’m out working 14-hour weekends — his support has been just as vital.

Without them, I wouldn’t be here. Not doing this — and definitely not loving it as much as I do.

Things Have Changed a Little...

And Now, Onto the Next Chapter…

Three years in, and I finally feel like I know what’s coming next — and I can’t wait. The next chapter is my shop: a space to create, to teach, to gather, and to build a little art-filled community. A place where the mess is welcome, the coffee’s strong, and inspiration can come from the chaos.

I don’t know exactly where or when it’ll open just yet, but that’s the direction I’m walking in — full of big plans, creative energy, and probably paint on my jeans.

If you’ve read this far, I’d honestly love to hear your story. What little spark have you been sitting on? What’s that thing you’d do if you let yourself leap? Drop a comment below and tell me — I’m all ears (and covered in charcoal dust, probably).

And if you’ve got a pet in need of a portrait, a space on your wall crying out for some original art, or you just fancy a browse, you can find all my current work here — or drop me a message if you want something bespoke. No pressure. Just putting it out there, the same way I put out that first giraffe on a windy market day.

Thanks for being here.

Emma x