I'm Emma Shook. I'm a South African artist living in New York City, and I finally found the courage to take my art seriously in my late 20s.

I've always expressed myself creatively in some capacity. When my father passed during COVID-19 I hit the lowest low I've ever known. I found myself disheveled, questioning what I was doing. My dad was the biggest advocate for my creative abilities, and when I was down in that rut I thought about what made me happy when I was younger and it was coloring, drawing, painting. I'd never had the confidence to put it out into the world. Slowly but surely, I started looking at things and imagining how they'd look as paintings, and I knew the gears were turning in my head.

I met my husband and moved to the United States in 2023, and during the period when I wasn't allowed to work while my immigration process played out, I was left to my own devices, so I picked up a paintbrush. So here I am, thanks to encouraging partners, parents, and friends.

I could focus on the hardships and hard things that have happened to me, but when I look at my art, I want it to be a sanctuary instead, a place where I can break away and dream. I want to look at my art and feel pure happiness. I want it to fill my body with lightness, a sense of dreaming in the most positive sense. I'm always reaching for that feeling; a  lightness I can feel in my chest. I want others to feel it too when they look at my work. That's why it's often whimsical, colorful, and full of flowers: those are the things that bring me joy.

I was obsessed with children's books growing up, but never for the stories. I'd look at the pictures and illustrations for hours, studying them, noticing the tiniest details. I still have most of the books that inspired me the most.

When I look at other artists, the ones I gravitate toward are the ones who use color and loose line work to create a sense of freedom and joy. I can tell this person enjoyed themselves while they made this piece, and now here I am standing in front of their art wanting to absorb that joy too. That's what I aim to create.

I've had vivid dreams since I was very young, and to this day, I remember them the next morning. I remember having a very serious conversation with my parents as a kid, telling them that one day I was going to live in New York City and run a cupcake shop with a pet pig. It was a wild claim for an eight-year-old South African girl living in a small suburban town near Cape Town, in the Western Cape, to make, but my parents always encouraged me to dream. I live in New York City now. I don't have a cupcake shop, and instead of a pet pig, I have a studio assistant named Nelson, a black cocker spaniel mix. But I still believe dreams are messages, and that dreams, the kind that inspire you, the kind that make you not want to wake up, should be the premise of creativity. At least, that's how it works for me.