Image: See Red Women’s Workshop (1978). Bite the Hand That Feeds You. Screenprint.
It’s Day 20 of Femtober, and I’ve found myself reflecting on the last 20 days of this little creative journey I’ve set myself.
Twenty days of making time to be creative. Twenty days of learning about incredible women artists. Twenty days of sitting down, even if only for a few minutes, and doing something purely for myself.
And it’s been so incredibly cathartic.
In fact, I think it’s become my favourite part of the day.
There have been evenings when I haven’t managed to sit down and create until quite late. Between teaching, university, research, and everything else that life seems to throw at me, sometimes my little Femtober activity is the very last thing I do. But the funny thing is, I’m still excited to do it.
I’m excited to sit down and learn about another woman who loves her art, who creates, who sees the world through her own unique lens. I’m excited to use her as my muse, to create something influenced by her practice, and to spend a little time in her world.
And perhaps most importantly, Femtober has taught me to slow down.
To stop thinking about the next thing I need to do, the next email I need to send, or the next piece of work waiting for me.
Just to sit, create, and be in the moment.
Where Are All the Women Artists?
Something else Femtober has made me think about is why we don’t spend more time celebrating female artists.
Because, goodness me, their work is incredible.
The way these women interpret their worlds, the way they represent figures, their use of materials, their stories, their perspectives, and the incredible variety of their artistic practices have been such a joy to explore.
Early in my academic journey, I read Linda Nochlin’s (1971) essay Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?
And I remember thinking, where are they?
Of course, Nochlin wasn’t suggesting that great women artists didn’t exist. Rather, she was questioning the institutions, opportunities, and structures that had historically determined who was allowed to become a recognised artist in the first place.
And strangely, more than 50 years later, her work still feels incredibly relevant.
According to the 2022 Countess Report, released in 2024, women made up only 33.6% of exhibiting artists in Australian state gallery programs and 30.5% in major museums. Yet women have long represented the majority of visual arts graduates in Australia (Samuels & Wright, 2024).
Think about that for a moment.
Women are studying art. Women are creating art. Women are contributing to the artistic world. Yet they are still not being represented equally in some of our most significant cultural institutions.
And Femtober has reminded me just how ridiculous that is.
These women aren’t all sitting neatly in one little corner of art history, waiting patiently to be discovered. Their practices cross painting, sculpture, textiles, installation, photography, performance, conceptual art, and so much more.
They’re out there.
So why aren’t we seeing more of them?
Why are women still underrepresented in major galleries, exhibitions, and acquisitions? Why are we still having conversations about gender equality in the arts? And why, more broadly, are women still fighting for pay equity?
The Workplace Gender Equality Agency (2026) reports that the average total remuneration gender pay gap in Australia’s private sector remains at 21.1%.
It’s 2026.
Why are we still here?
Being a Woman in Education
Last night, I watched an Instagram reel discussing the representation of women in academia compared with men.
And it made me think about my own little place in the academic world.
I’m still very much at the beginning of this journey. I’m learning, reading, researching, questioning, and slowly finding my feet in a world that, not all that long ago, would have been far less accessible to women like me.
And I feel incredibly honoured to be here.
Because while I can sit in my university office, surrounded by books, articles, and research, there are girls and women around the world who are being denied that same opportunity.
In Afghanistan, for example, UNESCO (2026) reported that approximately 2.4 million girls remain excluded from secondary education, while women continue to be barred from attending university.
That absolutely breaks my heart.
Education is something I value so deeply. Not simply because it has allowed me to pursue a career, but because it has allowed me to question, to think critically, to challenge ideas, and to understand the world in ways I never imagined.
And as a woman, I don’t take that privilege lightly.
My access to education is one of the greatest opportunities I’ve ever been given, and I am grateful for it every single day.
But I also think gratitude and frustration can exist together.
I can be grateful for the opportunities I have while still questioning why those opportunities aren’t available to every woman. I can celebrate how far women have come while recognising how much further we still need to go.
And I can be proud to be finding my place in academia while continuing to question the structures that have historically made that journey more difficult for women.
Keeping My Little Artistic Flame Alive
But bringing this back to Femtober, because I promise this wasn’t supposed to become an entire feminist reflection (although, really, are we surprised?), I think the greatest thing these last 20 days have given me is a little piece of myself back.
As an art teacher, I spend so much of my time encouraging other people to create.
I teach students how to explore materials, develop ideas, experiment, take risks, and find their own artistic voices.
And I absolutely love doing that.
But somewhere between being a teacher, a university tutor, a researcher, and everything else, my own artistic practice has slowly slipped further and further away.
It’s not because I don’t want to make art.
Goodness, I want to.
It’s simply that, at this point in my life, I don’t have the time or energy to dedicate to my own practice in the way I would like.
And I think that can be quite heartbreaking for someone who identifies so strongly as an artist.
It’s almost as though this little artistic flame inside me has been slowly withering away, not because I’ve stopped loving art, but because I’ve been so busy helping everyone else find their own creative spark.
Femtober has been a way of keeping that flame alive.
Not through grand artworks, elaborate projects, or hours spent in my studio, but through tiny moments of creativity.
A few marks on a page. A little experiment with colour. A quick drawing inspired by a woman whose work I’ve only just discovered.
And it’s enough.
At least for now.
It’s also reminded me that my artistic practice doesn’t need to be productive, impressive, or even particularly good to be worthwhile.
Sometimes it can simply exist because I enjoy it.
And I think, as an art teacher, that’s something I need to remind myself of more often.
We spend so much time working towards finished artworks, assessment criteria, exhibitions, and outcomes that sometimes we forget how wonderful it feels to create something simply because we want to.
No expectations. No assessment. No pressure.
Just art.
Twenty Days Later
So, twenty days into Femtober, I’m grateful.
Grateful for the women whose practices I’ve had the opportunity to explore. Grateful for the little windows into their worlds. Grateful for the moments of quiet that this challenge has given me.
I’m grateful that it’s encouraged me to learn more about female artists, and perhaps even more grateful that it’s made me question why we aren’t celebrating them more.
As an artist, it’s reminded me that I still have a creative voice, even if I don’t always have the time to use it.
As an art teacher, it’s reminded me of the importance of making space for creativity without expectations.
And as a woman, it’s reminded me of the incredible women who have created, challenged, questioned, and paved the way for others to do the same.
There are still eleven days to go, eleven more women to learn about, and eleven more little moments of creativity waiting for me.
And I’m genuinely excited.
Because these last twenty days have been a little pathway to peace in what often feels like an overwhelmingly busy life.
And even if no one else has done this with me, I’m glad I’ve done this with me.
References:
Nochlin, L. (1971). Why have there been no great women artists? ARTnews, 69(9). Read the essay.
maurareilly.com
Samuels, M., & Wright, S. (Eds.). (2024). The 2022 Countess Report. Countess.Report. Report website. The exhibition figures are supported by NAVA’s analysis.
pgav.org.au
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Workplace Gender Equality Agency. (2026). Gender pay gap data. WGEA website.
National, Industry and Employer information
UNESCO. (2026, August 11). Five years on: UNESCO calls for the full restoration of the right to education for Afghan girls and women. UNESCO website.
UNESCO
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