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A Love Letter to the Everyday with Lucy Mahon
12.02.2026
In this conversation, we sit down with artist Lucy Mahon to talk about the quiet romance of everyday life. From illuminated windows at dusk to the emotional pull of colour, Lucy’s work reads like a series of small, devoted love letters - to childhood, to memory, to the present moment. Rooted in daily rituals and note-taking, her practice is emotionally led, gently optimistic, and deeply human. Here, she reflects on creativity as self-soothing, the beauty of noticing, and why the ordinary continues to be her richest source of inspiration.
Interview with Lucy
Your work often feels like a quiet celebration of ordinary life. What is it about the everyday that keeps pulling you back in?
It’s right in front of me! My pastel-a-day project years ago was a really good creative habit and at the same time it forced me to notice all of the peaks and ploddings of the everyday. It’s also cathartic. A lot of my work is optimistic but sometimes made while I’m feeling a little uneasy. It’s helped me through things like grief and can be self soothing. It helps put things into perspective, an active way of getting myself into the right now, out of the what-ifs.
If your art is a kind of love letter, who (or what) are you writing to? A person, a place, a version of yourself, a fleeting moment?
Sometimes it’s a younger me. A lot of my more recent work explores the continuum of childhood and adulthood, how vulnerability and boldness can co-exist in us whatever the age.
There’s a softness to your world - not in a fragile way, but in a devoted way. Do you think tenderness is something you actively choose in your work, or something that naturally shows up?
Hmm I think it definitely all goes through the same lens but I don’t consciously ask myself the intended feeling or outcome. The things I collect and surround myself with are intentional, but the way I choose to make something just has to feel interesting to me and fit with the idea. Be that with vintage materials, drawings, embroidered labels, on canvas or installation.
What’s something small - a texture, a ritual, a mundane object - that has recently stopped you in your tracks and made you think: this is worth noticing?
Illuminated windows during this time of year. I like that there’s life going on behind them.
Your colour palettes and compositions often feel like memory: hazy, warm, slightly dreamlike. How much of your process is about documenting real life, and how much is about reimagining it?
It depends on the piece or collection. My recent solo show lent itself visually to a more far-out wonder. The catalyst was solo travels and it chronicled scenes from some kind of journey, like a storybook; the sky, stars, moons and planets are there along the way, staying with us from small to big, putting us in our place, giving perspective, and often locating us in relation to someone else.
When you’re creating, do you start with a feeling, an image, or a story? What usually arrives first - emotion or form?
Any of the above: feelings, images, stories. A lot of it comes from daily note taking and if I’m stuck, I’ll go over them and see what I’m pulled towards. In terms of emotion or form, it’s emotionally led. I often have words to sum something up but then need to wait until I have something fitting to visualise it.
Is there a particular era, artwork, film, or visual language that you feel you’re in constant conversation with - even subconsciously?
I always come back to Richard Curtis’ films. The heart, the lols, the friendships, the way place and time are shown (like the market scene over four seasons in Notting Hill). The dinner party scene in Notting Hill is one of my favourites.
If you could create a “Valentine” to something non-romantic - a place, a habit, a season, a mundane object - what would you choose, and what would you say to it?
My two favourite trees in my local park. I call them the tree sisters and they sit beside each other, kind of mirror image. I’ve got no idea how old they are but there’s something reassuring about them that they’ve weathered years and years. I’d say thank you!
You’ve been working on new prints recently, including some that can be personalised with names or dates. What draws you to creating work that marks someone else’s moments or milestones?
I always make drawings for friends and family as gifts. Or things like cake toppers, Christmas decorations and party hats to celebrate. I’m thinking of ways I can offer some of that to other people!
Quickfire
Your current obsession (big or tiny)?
My new packed lunch box
The most underrated everyday object?
Pencils!?
A colour you can’t stop using in your work?
Pinks & greens
A scent that instantly makes you feel calm?
My mum’s washing, the fabric softener she uses
Something you always notice in other people’s homes?
Bath tubs! I don’t have one and I love them
Your ideal “perfect day” activity?
Limited firm plans, fresh air and movement, bookshop browse (usually picture books), pizza, cinema
The last thing you took a photo of?
A screengrab of my nieces on a video call
The most Romantic thing… about daily life?
The myriad of ways friends show love
Tea or coffee order?
Macchiato / espresso
Your love language in one word (not necessarily romantic)?
Effort
If your work had a theme song, what would it be?
Not the theme song but when I need a energy boost in the studio it’s usually Kylie Minogue, Better the Devil you know or Dolly Parton’s 9-5
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