- Adeline-Julie Bee
- 2 days ago
- 3 min read
Updated: 1 day ago
I was born into an artistic family.
Not the “we-like-museums” kind, the seriously-creative kind.
There was a wildlife painter, a surrealist painter, architects, a sculptor, an interior designer… and probably a few more artists hiding behind easels that I forgot to mention. In short: creativity wasn’t encouraged, it was unavoidable.
From a very young age, I tried everything.
I played the violin, danced, shaped clay, painted, drew… If it involved hands, imagination, or making a mess, I was in.
After secondary school, my studies followed the same joyful zigzag:
first comic art, then film and television as an editor–script supervisor, and finally textile design. One thing never changed: I always wanted to work with my hands and create. Create became my personal mantra long before it was trendy.
But I belong to a generation that was told something very clear: “Living from your passion? As an artist? That’s utopian. Be realistic.”
So after all those years of studies, I made a reasonable, slightly painful choice. I went into television as a script supervisor a “real job,” with real income. Sensible. Secure. And slowly… soul-crushing.
Nearly twenty years later, the truth became impossible to ignore: I was unhappy. I was slowly switching myself off.
The realization hurt, especially the feeling that so much time had passed. But it also woke me up.
So I did something radical.
I picked up my paintbrushes again.
It was 2016.
For two or three years, I practiced quietly, showing no one. Watercolour for countless hours, coloured pencils, abstract acrylics, linocut printing… I was rebuilding a relationship with art, privately and honestly.
Then came 2020.
The world stopped.
And I started again, for real.
I enrolled in Making Art Work with Emily Jeffords and made a decision: I would build a sustainable income from my art. I kept a side job (because life), but somehow ended up working more than I was creating, a familiar artist paradox.
I followed the process, launched my website, diversified my income… and then something clicked.
During my textile design studies, I had worked with printing inks and indigo dye baths. So naturally, I started making my own botanical inks and watercolours. At first, only for myself and my own work.
Then, on a whim, I answered a call for submissions for an online event hosted by Peggy Dean.
I never imagined I’d be selected. Not for a second.
And yet... there I was. Peggy was truly a turning point in my creative life, a blessed moment, and I have immense admiration and gratitude for her.
A Belgian artist with a French accent, teaching an International audience how to make handmade watercolours.
It was a success.
And I loved it.
Soon after, I joined Peggy’s design team. Another opportunity for which I’ll always be deeply grateful.
What I may have forgotten to mention is this: I’ve been teaching and sharing knowledge my entire life, alongside constantly learning myself. Creating tutorials felt natural. My background in editing helped me find my footing quickly, and I began teaching on Skillshare as well.
In 2023, another realization arrived: my artwork wanted to become patterns. Decorative, repeatable, alive on surfaces.
In February 2024, I learned Adobe Illustrator through Bonnie Christine’s Immersion course.
Six months later, I signed my first wallpaper licensing contract.
Since then, I think in patterns daily. Obsessively. Joyfully.
Today, I continue my path as an artist and pattern designer, driven by a deep conviction that I will reach the goals I’ve set for myself. Even though I still have a side job.
Along the way, I’ve signed another wallpaper licensing contract.
This journey has taught me one essential truth: so listen up!
Creativity never disappears, it waits.
It waits patiently for the moment you are ready to listen again, to trust it, and to give it space. What once felt like detours now form a coherent path, weaving together art, craft, teaching, and storytelling.
Today, I create with intention, curiosity, and confidence not to prove that living from art is possible, but to live the life that was quietly calling me all along.
Adeline-Julie Bee
