How being vegan informs my business practice

I’ve been vegan now for about a decade, and a vegetarian for two decades prior to that. I don’t usually announce myself as a vegan, wary of the assumption that vegans have judgements to impart to unsuspecting people on how they live their lives, but I have no such agenda, I promise! That’s not where this is going. My values are my own, and of course we’re all entitled to make our decisions and opinions of our own volition. I have always cared about what’s in things, where things come from, and how things work. I’ve always been a little obsessive that way. At thirteen I was learning to paint and discovered school paint brushes were hog hair. This was uncomfortable for this little teenage vegetarian, and I promptly decided to save my pennies and purchase a set of synthetic brushes from Fred Aldous. That led to investigating exactly what was in the paints I was using, and thus began a lifelong internet research vortex of art supplies!

When I was younger, I don’t suppose I thought too much about the environmental impact of my actions. It was more to do with my love of animals. I didn’t have any friends as a child, and few as a teenager (not so many as an adult, truth be told), and when my sister went off to University, my world got smaller. My best friend in the universe was our cat, Charlie. We had two, with Charlie’s brother Buster, who we acquired from a family friend no longer able to look after them. I adored them both, but Buster was a beautiful, independent soul, who gave us all an affectionate greeting, and then went about his business, whereas Charlie was desperate for attention and saw a kindred spirit in the lonely twelve year old, afraid of other humans. He attached himself to my side and never left. He scaled the roof to use my bedroom window as his cat flap, flopped head first onto any homework or book getting more attention than he, and waited every afternoon in the hall for my return from school. I’m not sure if he thought I was his cat, or he was my human. It broke me when they died, in my twenties, which is why I got a tortoise. She’s a beautiful Indian Star and I hope she’ll live forever. Now I also have rescue parrots that may make it to fifty years old, in good health. It occurred to me a few months ago that Pidgeon (one such rescue parrot. I don’t know why there is a D in his name) also vies for my attention, altogether too jealous of a phone, sketchbook or computer, demanding tickles. So now my best pal is a 24 year old Senegal with an addiction to pecans and a determination to tap dance his way across a surface rather than fly anywhere. His favourite place is perched on my right hand held near to my face, so I have nothing to do but tell him he’s my good boy. Similar to Buster, I adore my Senegal Sam too, but he’s happiest a good two feet away, usually singing the Superman theme tune.

Looking after parrots opened a new can of worms- air purity became paramount. Any teflon had to be removed. Because it’s everywhere my friends, even places you’d never think of, like the ironing board cover! Humans might be able to stand it, but my precious tiny velociraptors cannot. Thank goodness I’ve spent my life fine tuning my research skills! So the concept of considering our animal pals in everything I do is something that has been important to me for a long time.

As I’ve gotten older, my environmental impact has mattered much more to me, and I try to make the best decisions I can for my business. Having a product based business does come with a responsibility, knowing you are contributing to consumerism. So I need to tread carefully, so that this impact is small.

My paper comes from recycled stock, and my sculptures create very little waste. All paper off cuts get saved to use for smaller pieces. Recent tree stump designs have made good use of all my tiny green paper waste, which I’m repurposing as paper moss! As for the other colours of tiny offcuts: I’d like to make my own paper with them. From my art foundation days, I vaguely remember needing a blender and some sort of mesh sieve. At some point I plan to get myself the appropriate equipment. Of course I have some rather ambitious idea that I can make myself a lovely sketchbook or two. Wouldn’t that be lovely!

I use acrylic paint in my printing, and I’m careful to use all that I squeeze out of the tube. Using acrylic was a conscious choice: it adds a protective layer to the paper and the colours don’t fade, regardless of how long they’re in the sunshine. My sculptures are meant to last. They were never going to be recyclable as a finished product. I haven’t yet solved the issue of where to recycle my empty paint tubes. I’m assured there are places, but I don’t seem to live near them. For now, I’m holding on to them, and their number is remarkably small for my near twenty years in business. I only have a handful.

As for what goes in a regular waste bin- I have offcuts of the invisible fishing line I use to string up my wall hangings. I measure before I cut, but a little extra is needed for knotting, which gets trimmed off. Empty plastic paint tubes and glue bottles aside, that’s all for everyday waste. Obviously there’s the occasional broken paint brush or packaging from supplies I use. Last year my old Ikea desk chair finally broke beyond repair, only to discover it was some sort condensed polystyrene under its fabric frame. Yarg. So I haven’t managed to avoid landfill entirely, by any means. The fact that I’m a bit of a hoarder certainly helps things along. Gu pots are great for holding my piles of paper feathers, and I keep my (acrylic) eyeballs in jam jars. My glue pot is an old Plasticine pot from when my nieces were little. I love a spot of repurposing!

Packaging is probably my biggest hurdle, as I buy new boxes, post cards and tissue paper. But it’s all from recycled stock, and it’s all paper recyclable, even my paper tape. When I started my business, I was determined to reuse and recycle old packaging boxes, but customers didn’t really like it. For a time I purchased very fancy boxes, but they were not recyclable, and so I needed something between the two extremes. Unwrapping a sculpture you’ve spent your hard earned money on should be a nice experience, so I hope to strike a balance of joyful parcels from recycled stock. I really love a fabric ribbon, but I decided paper ribbon would suffice. It’s not as lovely as fabric ribbon, but it’s easier to throw out for customers. Not everybody saves every ribbon they receive in anticipation of the day they’re recruited to Santa’s workshop like I do.

I also try to make my purchases from companies whose ethics align with my own, and that usually means small businesses. Do I sometimes need to buy something from Amazon? Absolutely. Sometimes it’s a compromise between what I can afford and what I can live with. I suspect that’s the case for most of us.

All this to say, I do what I can. It’s all a balance. If you care about the ingredients of the varnish or the recycled stock used to make the sculpture you’d like to purchase, then know that I care too. I’ve put effort in to ensure these sculptures tread as lightly on the environment as I am able.

Also, if you’re desperate to find quality vegan watercolour paints or drawing pencils, I am your girl! Get in touch and I can show you a glimpse of the labyrinth of information I have traversed.