Cranfield US Sales manager and artist Sarah-Malone Carnline takes a minute to muse on the ‘physicality of art’ and why she can’t help but dive in…..


I want to leave my handprint behind.

I have always loved to use my hands.

I started out barefoot in the mud and in the sand squishing it between my toes and fingers; creating mud pies and sand castles.

Joy in the ability to take something as organic and as ‘nothing’ as dirt to create something at times recognizable, symbolic, representative or challenging has always fascinated me.

Despite studying art, I didn’t see myself as an artist until a few years ago.

Perhaps it’s because there is at times a certain awkwardness, embarrassment or even stigma attached to the title: artist.

‘He’s an artist’. ‘Oh is he?’…‘and what kind of artist?’

There’s the vision of a starving artist, removing the cabinet doors out of the kitchen to paint on and sell in order to make enough money to eat or buy more art supplies.

How about the crazed artist that cut off his own ear or cuts off contact with family friends when the mood descends?

Perhaps we know a few reluctant artists who have an ability they are too nervous to use, or the gifted but resentful artists who have no time to use it!

With the diversity of both artist and means of expression, I hope I am becoming content to make art in all ranges, mediums, and modes.

There is an intangible expression of the body, heart, and mind that arises along with all of these art forms and this alone takes courage. But it’s more than creating. It is life and it is a lifestyle.

I want to leave my handprint behind.

I create art that to me and for me has a purpose and a drive behind it.

When printmaking I find immense joy in the literal idea of leaving my “prints” behind. Some of my prints even contain a thumbprint or two that I rarely cut away.

Why the strong desire to cut out something that shows I was there? It was me!


Cress Rosario Jun 2014 – An Artist’s Life

I thought of many pictures in my head, And in every book that I have read

I looked at the horizon, To look for an inspiration


I closed my eyes slowly, I skimmed images thoroughly

Then one light suddenly flickered, Like a giant glint of a light bulb


As I opened my eyes, I saw a wooden table of mess

Mess made by used paints, Clutter from paintbrushes


Finishing a work of art Is like fulfilling a life’s half part

This is a story of my life. A story of an artist’s life