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Liam Seear-Budd in a green shirt and camo cap, leaning over a painting on his table with a fine brush, the roller door and shelves behind him

Inside the Colourful World of Painter Liam Seear-Budd

Liam Seear-Budd paints bright, loud cartoons around a day job as a screen printer. He talks about the moment a painting can go wrong, and the seven-year-old world he’s still holding on to.

Inside the Colourful World of Painter Liam Seear-Budd

“Might look happy, but it has an essence of sadness underneath it.”

Liam Seear-Budd

Loose at the start

Liam Seear-Budd is an artist based in Melbourne, originally from New Zealand, and he works as a screen printer. His work is bright and colourful, and these days it’s airbrush-based. “I want a wall to pop out at you,” he told me. “I want to bring colour into the world.”

When we visited, he was working on the first layer of a painting, and he wasn’t being precious about it. “I can be pretty loose with it on this first layer,” he said, “because it gets all tidied up once you add the black and the white at the end.”

Liam’s hand spraying a small green mark with the airbrush, blue tape and halftone dots around it
Liam’s hand spraying a small green mark with the airbrush, blue tape and halftone dots around it
Liam airbrushing up close at the wall, fluoro green shapes on the sheet in front of him
Liam airbrushing up close at the wall, fluoro green shapes on the sheet in front of him

The moment he gets it right

That looseness is there for a reason. He likes his paintings to have “this defined moment where I actually get it right.” Everything before it can be fixed. “I’d be loose at the start,” he said, “and then there’s a point where if I fail this one point,” and the rest of that sentence can’t be printed here.

The paint itself doesn’t worry him. “It’s always paint,” he said. “You can always paint over it, you know?”

“My main thing is time.”

Liam Seear-Budd

“I end up freaking out if I spend so much time on something and then I don’t like it or I’ve stuffed it up.”

Liam’s hand drawing a fine brush across a painting on the table edge, shelves of ceramics behind him
Liam’s hand drawing a fine brush across a painting on the table edge, shelves of ceramics behind him

Next to KAWS

Time is the thing he’s short of, even when the work is going well. His most recent show was a group show in Hamburg, and it came out of nowhere. “They reached out to me, which is always weird,” he said. “I don’t know how these opportunities come to me sometimes.”

“It was one of those situations where I had to go. There was no way of not going.” When he got there, they had hung him next to KAWS. “It was like KAWS, Andy Warhol, big dogs all in the line,” he said. “It didn’t make any sense to me at all, but pretty cool.”

Liam’s studio from behind his work table: Liam on a chair at the far wall among his paintings, a long desk of tools and a lamp beside him
Liam’s studio from behind his work table: Liam on a chair at the far wall among his paintings, a long desk of tools and a lamp beside him

Ready to quit

So does he do this full time? “No. I wish,” he said. “There’s been periods, but pretty hard.”

He came back from that trip ready to quit his job, move into a cheap house and go all in. That wore off pretty quickly after the holiday. “You realise money’s got to come in,” he said.

He has since had work in a Sonic the Hedgehog 35th anniversary show in the US, and he’s still going to a day job. “It’s still weird to have these opportunities,” he said, “but be stuck in the same kind of situation I’ve been in for 10 years.” On Instagram, he told me, “I probably look like a full-time artist.”

What changed is how much that bothers him. “If I work four days and I can paint two days, that’s fine,” he said. Letting go of the idea, he said, has “made everything feel a bit easier.”

Portrait of Liam Seear-Budd in a green football shirt and camo cap, hands in his pockets, in his studio
Portrait of Liam Seear-Budd in a green football shirt and camo cap, hands in his pockets, in his studio

Seven years old

I asked him about the cartoons. From about four until seven, he said, it was Saturday mornings. “Rocket Power. It was all of them.”

Liam leaning over his table in front of a wall of halftone paintings: Elmo, a green character, a blue clown and a black and white smiley
Liam leaning over his table in front of a wall of halftone paintings: Elmo, a green character, a blue clown and a black and white smiley

“It keeps me in that seven-year-old world,” he said. “And it’s more than nostalgia.” His mum passed away when he was seven. “So clearly I’ve got a switch there,” he said.

“I’m trying to hold on to that period of time.”

Liam Seear-Budd

He wants people to feel that in the paintings: the happiness of nostalgia, and the deeper feeling he’s pushing out underneath. Some of them, he thinks, may already know it. “Potentially they have a similar situation to me,” he said, “where they’re trying to grasp onto their childhood.”

Liam working fluoro green into a painting with his fingers, the airbrush compressor and pinned drawings behind him
Liam working fluoro green into a painting with his fingers, the airbrush compressor and pinned drawings behind him

The whole thing

I asked whether reflection was a big part of his process. “It’s pretty much the whole thing,” he said. It always starts with a memory or a feeling he’s had. Flowers that were on the table when he was brought home from the hospital. Photographs of his family. Poems from his mum.

He goes deep into all of it, “trying to create more meaning, I guess, to myself behind it.” And the finished painting isn’t really what it’s for.

“It’s more of the process of doing it. It’s more of the therapy for me.”

Liam Seear-Budd
Liam from behind in a green number 2 shirt, airbrushing a blue halftone at the wall, a painting of a bouquet leaning below his other work
Liam from behind in a green number 2 shirt, airbrushing a blue halftone at the wall, a painting of a bouquet leaning below his other work

Hold on to it

I asked him what nobody told him about being an artist. “You’re going to be in it for a while,” he said, “so have some patience.”

And he has one more thing to add. “Ambition’s that sweet juice that slowly kind of deteriorates over time,” he said. “So hold on to that ambition.”

Liam at his desk drawing with a red pen, the roller door bright behind him and a paint-splattered sheet hanging on the wall
Liam at his desk drawing with a red pen, the roller door bright behind him and a paint-splattered sheet hanging on the wall

There’s more from our conversation in the full interview. See more of Liam’s work at liamseearbudd.com and on Instagram at @liamseearbudd.

From the shoot

4 photos