A Creative Dive with Olivia Sewell

You’ve mentioned that despite having sketchbooks stacked high, your planning often "dissolves" the moment you stand in front of a canvas. How do you navigate that transition from a curated idea to the pure, instinctual act of painting?

The idea's always in there somewhere. But the second paint actually hits the canvas, something else takes over and the plan just becomes a vague suggestion rather than a set instruction. I've learnt to trust that and just go with it. That's one of the parts I really love - not knowing what's about to happen.

Working with Indian ink leaves very little room to hide, yet your work always feels incredibly whimsical and free. How do you find that sweet spot between the permanence of ink and the playfulness of your style?

I try not to think about it too much - that's the trick I think. Music on, mind loose, and I just find my groove. The less I control it, the more playful it becomes.

We know your taste is deeply informed by childhood summers in the South of France (especially your Godmother’s jazz restaurant with the tree growing in the middle of the kitchen!). How do those highly sensory, eccentric memories influence the art and homeware you design today?

It's a bit of a cliché, but there's something about the South of France that gets under your skin. Paris does the same. The markets, the colours, the food, the buzz, the art scene - it's just in everyone's blood down there. I'm just trying to smuggle some of that into my own home, and make it available to anyone who feels the same way.

You’re based in West Kent, yet your work radiates Mediterranean warmth. How do you curate the atmosphere in your studio to transport yourself?

It feels quite easy in the summer - we're in a very pretty spot, we more or less live outdoors for the whole season. Then we top it up by travelling whenever we can.

If we were to walk around your home in Kent, what is the one object or piece of art that best encapsulates your personal taste, and what is the story behind it?

It's mainly the things I've been given. I frame lots of scraps of my kids' artwork and their notes to the tooth fairy. I love it all so much. My mother's an artist and a gilder, and my grandmother was too - she was at St Martins in the '60s, and I've still got one of her bronzes, my cousin caught mid-cartwheel, from when we were very young. A friend gave me her old university architecture drawings, which I've kept. My godmother made me a trio of prints. I'm a little sentimental but they are also totally fab pieces.

You’ve spoken beautifully about channeling your children's playfulness into your art. How has motherhood refined your aesthetic taste and the way you approach your daily creative practice?

They're a constant reminder that making things - painting, drawing, anything - is one of the purest joys, and that we're all basically wired to do it. They walk in from school and start making something before their coats are even off. Watching that keeps dragging me back to instinct, which is exactly where I want to be working from.

As your work expands into beautiful homewares and rugs, what does the ultimate "Olivia Sewell" room look like? What specific textures, colors, and objects would we find inside?

Layers, lots of layers. Every texture in the room doing something different. I'd love to print my own fabric and cover a sofa in it - curtains too. And one day I'll do crockery!