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Artist Melanie McKenzie, 43, lives in the deep south in a farmhouse that’s been in her husband’s family for three generations. She and husband Logan have added their stamp to the house, including adding a swing in the living room. The view from the homestead and McKenzie’s studio, The Penny Drops, is spectacular: Stewart Island can be seen on a clear day. Her art, meanwhile, focusses on the not-so-clear, as her oil paintings embrace the bokeh medium.

MELANIE: We live in Seaward Downs, Southland, on my husband’s family dairy farm. We’re a family of six. Logan and I have two daughters (Lauren 15, Natallie 12) and two sons (Robson 10, Hewitt 5). My husband’s family have been farming this land for over 100 years so there’s a longstanding connection to the farm. Having said that, I’m not from Southland. I grew up around New Zealand and the world, including six years in Hong Kong. My children are getting a vastly different upbringing to my own.

It’s beautiful here. The skies in Southland are so large and expressive – perched up on our hill we have incredible views across the Mataura River valley. Seaward Downs is close to the beautiful Catlins, Invercargill and Gore, and you can see Stewart Island on a good day. Queenstown and Dunedin are just over a couple of hours’ drive away.

This is dairy farming country, with a few sheep farms still around. In the spring, our local area has paddocks full of tulips, which are always a treat. The community here is fabulous, and we’ve made really good friends, especially through many years of attending our local playgroup. We have a local country hall at which we hold community parties for things like Christmas, Anzac Day and Matariki… always an open invitation, familyfriendly and it’s always “bring a plate to share”.

My bokeh oil paintings are the world viewed through a blurry lens. It’s the softening of your gaze and an opportunity to move past hyper-focussing on the nitty-gritty details, to admire the bigger picture where light becomes the hero. I view it as a metaphor for what we choose to (un)focus on in our lives. Photographers call it bokeh. Though I'm an oil painter, my camera is an essential tool.

When I'm taking a reference photograph for a future painting, I note that as I unfocus the camera lens, the light literally grows before my eyes - later becoming orbs of luminance on the canvas. The paintings are soft, beguiling, familiar and intriguing.

I'm 18-plus months deep into this specific style of painting. With photography as an early creative medium, for many years I chased 'the beautiful blur' in the background of portrait photos and always admired bokeh photos I'd taken. In 2022 I painted a few pieces in the bokeh style, and, early on, won awards with them which spurred me on.

I had pockets of creativity in younger years, but really only became deeply creative once I had children. I started making things for my daughters, mostly with fabric, but it opened a can of creative 'worms' that would not be put away. I've let my creativity evolve and be explored, though painting has been my calling for a number of years.

My studio is just a few steps from our front door, though we're in the process of building a new (larger) one – which will be just a few more steps away – to maximise the sweeping views and spectacular sunrises we experience here.

The house we live in is a farmhouse, built by my husband's grandparents in the 1960s. It's a traditional Southland brick and roughcast style, though it's been renovated twice and doesn't look as traditional now.

Following a well-trod path of farm succession, my in-laws moved in here next (during the 2000's) and extended and modernised the original home. A few years later, my husband and I (and kids) moved up here (in 2013) and we renovated ourselves – to add an extra bedroom and extend the living area to bring more light into the home.

The light is one of my favourite elements of the house. The sun can now rise and shine right through to the other side and do the same in the opposite direction when it sets.

The house is definitely not decorated in a typical farmhouse style. I love old, rustic pieces mixed with newer, more industrial furniture. I’m not averse to grabbing a paintbrush and giving something a fresh look. Our dining table was the latest “victim” – now a beautiful, rich green. I’ve salvaged furniture from old farm sheds and layered with rugs.

The window seat would have to be a favourite spot. There’s room for two of us to spread out in the afternoon sun – it’s a great spot for a cup of tea, some reading or even a snooze. My mum makes a beeline for it when she comes to stay from Christchurch.

We also have a swing in our living room, which guests gravitate to and my kids spend hours on. I’ve recently opened our home for the Southland Arts Trail and almost every visitor has commented on the swing – asking if we use it. To which I point at the dirty feet marks on the ceiling – my boys proudly claim responsibility for those. It was great when the kids were babies, to rock them to sleep or settle them when unwell.

My art is on display in the home – mixed up with work by other local artists. The work I’ve got hanging is somewhat of a time capsule of different styles I’ve explored in my art journey. There’s less of my bokeh work here than I’d like as it doesn’t hang around long… it’s a good problem to have.

I love ceramics, the more rustic the form and dribbly the glaze the better. I’d love to learn myself one day, but in the meantime I collect pieces by local makers. I have a painting set I was recently given by a friend, local ceramicist Caroline Wilkinson from DriftedNZ. I also have one of her quirky people vases (a stripy dude with orange beard) – proof that art and design don’t have to be big to have impact.