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Inside the Studio: Laura Hol
Laura Hol is an artist who captures the essence of places, emotions, and memories through her vibrant and deeply expressive paintings. Her work is a visual journey of colors and moods, each brushstroke infused with meaning. In this exclusive interview, Laura shares insights into her creative process, the role of art in her life, and the personal experiences that have shaped her artistic journey.
Read on to learn more in an exclusive interview with Laura Hol :
1. Your work is deeply rooted in capturing a sense of place and emotion. When you begin a painting, what’s the first thing you focus on—color, mood, or memory?
This is a difficult question to answer as for me, those three things are deeply linked and almost inseparable. I guess it depends on why I am painting; if I am painting somewhere I have been, then the memory and emotion of the place come first. If I have a fixed idea, it usually comes in full color. Otherwise, if I just feel like I need to create, then that is definitely mood over everything else. When I paint, those three things grow together—the color creates the mood and shows the memory. I never paint just how a place looks; I need to paint how it feels, and the colors I use are my language.
2. You mentioned that art has been with you through the good and bad times. How has your relationship with painting evolved over the years, and what role does it play in your daily life now?
Art has always been my one constant and my go-to form of processing. I used to paint more consistently when I was younger, focusing on exploring techniques, ideas, and just creating. I find now, with life being filled with responsibilities, complications, and less time, that art has become a tool for me to process my situation, emotions, and to find some peace. I sometimes struggle with overwhelming emotions, too much empathy, frustration, overthinking, or stress, and being able to put some of that onto a canvas is beyond cathartic—it is a life-saver. I realize more and more that I cannot live without it.
3. Your use of color is striking and intentional. Do you find yourself drawn to certain color palettes based on emotions or experiences, or do they emerge spontaneously?
The colors always come spontaneously, even if I have a set color intention. When I put the paint to canvas, anything can happen. I always start with a color wash over the entire canvas, and the color choice for that is purely mood-based. I paint how I feel. The background either then becomes an integral part of the image or gets painted over. Every color choice is intentional but never preplanned. Color is such an integral part of my being that I can see and feel colors that aren’t visible to everyone else, so it isn’t something I have to think about—it just naturally happens.
4. Your journey into art was shaped by a deeply personal event—the loss of your brother. How do you think this experience influenced not just your art but also your perspective on life and creativity?
There were two lessons I learned from my brother: one, that there is no time like the present—if you want something, there is no point in waiting until tomorrow; and two, perseverance and determination. My brother had a brain tumor and was incredibly ill, but somehow, every day he got up and rode his exercise bike, for half an hour or as much as he could manage, with no guarantee it would make any difference other than his belief. It didn’t save him, but in a way, it did—he had something positive to focus on, something to do, and a physical demon to battle, and he never gave up.
So much about being creative is hitting brick wall after brick wall—critics, lack of money, lost opportunities, ten steps forward and twelve steps back. I firmly believe that the ones who ‘make it’ are simply the ones who can last the longest without giving up. My brother gave me the option of no option. You want to be an artist, you want to live life to the fullest, so you go through the blocks, the no sales, the self-doubt, the disappointment, and you never let go, even when all hope is lost.
5. Many artists struggle with self-doubt. As someone who openly documents your artistic journey, how do you navigate moments of uncertainty or creative blocks?
Ironically, I am going through a period of uncertainty now as I am pushing my art much harder in a time of economic decline. It is easy to feel unsettled as sales slow and you start to second-guess what you are doing. When it becomes overwhelming, I try to take each day as it comes and focus on the small wins—a new contact, a great painting, a new sale, another subscriber. Every step is a step forward or a time to learn. Periodically taking a moment to review your journey helps as well—when you look at your current situation compared to how you started, it is impossible not to be impressed. I don’t think the me from ten years ago would have imagined I would be as successful as I am now. I am sure that is true for a lot of people.
Creative blocks are more difficult to deal with—you either force them and create some mediocre things until you re-find your flow, or stop and take a break to recharge. Walking, nature, and travel do wonders for me—some time to breathe, new things to see, and space for my mind to wander. It then doesn’t take long for inspiration to come knocking.
6. You describe your paintings as having imperfections that add to their soul. How do you decide when a painting is "finished," and do you ever feel tempted to keep adjusting your work?
Strangely, I have just started a series of six paintings, all painted a few years ago, that I have finally decided to bite the bullet and rework as I have never been satisfied with how they turned out. Painting is a strange process—anticipation, potential, then a terrible phase of ‘what is this mess,’ to ‘hang on, it’s coming, it looks good now,’ to ‘I’m done.’ Paintings seem to get their own personality as they grow. Some just shout, ‘I’m finished.’ Some say, ‘I might be—sleep on it and see tomorrow.’ Some are just ‘I don’t know what to do next, so we are finished for the moment.’ You develop a relationship with a painting you have just made, like finding a new friend. You sit with it and see how it makes you feel—are you pleased, unexpectedly impressed, does it make you feel better, or is something niggling? If it is niggling, you adjust it until it isn’t. In my case, sometimes that means years later.
7. You’ve spoken about bringing color back into adulthood, where it often fades. Do you think your work is, in some ways, a form of visual storytelling meant to reconnect people with joy and optimism?
I like the thought that it is. Color is interesting—horror movies, apocalyptic films, and those with subdued moods are often shot in muted tones or black and white. If you want something to feel mature and serious, make it grey, subtle, or soft in color. But if you're designing a toy for a child, you bring out all the colors to make it bright and happy.
Colors are a language, and I find it ridiculous that we use excess color to communicate with children but not with adults. Life is color. Part of the reason I love traveling is that different cultures still have a strong relationship with color. I don’t know if it’s something about the UK or places with less sun, but they seem to slowly embody more grey and forget what color does. Just because something is functional or the outside world looks gloomy doesn’t mean it should be devoid of color and optimism. Colors and joy are all around us if you remember how to look, so yes, perhaps my paintings are meant to remind you of that.
8. As an artist building a self-sustaining career, what has been the most unexpected challenge you’ve faced, and what advice would you give to emerging artists following a similar path?
I think the hardest thing is managing your worth. I really struggle with this because I tend to say, “Oh, you can have it for this” too easily. You always have to remember that you are selling a piece of your blood, sweat, and tears—you can’t undervalue that.
Consistency is also key: consistent painting, marketing, promoting, attending events—make everything as steady as possible. I hate networking and being pushy, but people forget you unless you stay visible. Be proud of what you do and show it off (even if you’re an introvert and don’t want to).
9. You’ve sold your work worldwide—how do you feel knowing your art is living in different corners of the world, and do you ever wonder about the stories your collectors attach to your pieces?
I love this. Traveling is not only my second addiction but also a way I collect inspiration—it keeps me alive. It really touches me that my paintings get to do the same and experience another country. It’s a beautiful full-circle moment.
There’s nothing better than seeing someone resonate with a piece of your work. At an exhibition a few months ago, it was incredible to watch people connect with different pieces—whether it was a place, a feeling, or something inspiring. Being an artist is sometimes a lonely job—just you, your hand, your brain, and your paintbrush. Seeing firsthand how people react to my work and appreciate what I create is a privilege. Every time someone buys a piece, it means I’ve successfully captured an essence that they want or need in their life, and you can’t beat that.
10. If you could collaborate with any artist (past or present), who would it be, and what kind of project would you envision creating together?
I’ve spent a long time trying to figure out how to answer this question—there are too many to choose from!
I would love to meet Tracey Emin because she just makes sense to me. She lets you into her world and tries to make you understand her emotions and meaning in a completely different way than I do. I feel like we want to say the same thing but use different languages.
Then there are artists like Jackson Pollock for his expression, Frida Kahlo for her trauma, Van Gogh for his color, Munch for his emotions, Piet Mondrian for color structure, Francis Bacon for his messy studio, and Matisse for his bold shapes.
I would gladly sit and absorb their processes, let inspiration grow between us, and create something—a beautiful, colorful, meaningful, and emotive beast.
Laura Hol’s work is a deeply personal expression of emotion, memory, and place. Her resilience and dedication to her craft shine through every brushstroke, and her journey serves as an inspiring testament to the power of perseverance in the face of doubt. Through color, movement, and mood, she continues to create pieces that invite viewers to not just see, but to feel.
You can learn more about Laura Hol’s and her work via these links:
Website: https://www.lauraholart.co.uk/
Instagram: @laurahollogram
Facebook: @Laura Hol
Pinterest: @Laura Hol
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