Stream of Consciousness and the Power of Unfiltered Mark-Making
In an era defined by curation, refinement and constant editing, Sarah Peters offers something strikingly different: a practice rooted in immediacy, honesty and release. Working under the name Studio Braemar, the London-based abstract artist creates monochrome works that exist as direct transmissions of thought and feeling, unfiltered and unapologetically raw.
Her process, which she describes as ‘stream of consciousness art’, resists control in favour of surrender. Ink, charcoal and acrylic move across paper alongside unedited handwritten text, forming compositions that are not constructed, but revealed. Each work becomes a record of an internal state, where nothing is revised and nothing is concealed.
In this conversation, Peters reflects on the courage of working without a plan, the emotional undercurrents that shape her practice, and why, in a world saturated with polish, there is a growing resonance in work that refuses to hide.
Are you self-taught, or did you undertake formal artistic training?
I am a self-taught artist. My journey into art began in an unconventional way, six years ago I left a career in media and found myself painting windows for high-end boutiques along the King’s Road and across west London. It was an immersive, hands-on education in colour, scale and visual communication. But it was only last year when I made the decision to create purely for myself (with no brief, no client, no expectation) that something truly shifted. That was the moment I found my voice. The response has been extraordinary; the work has resonated far beyond what I anticipated, and it has grown organically and rapidly on social media. I think people can feel when something is made without compromise.
How would you define your visual language or conceptual approach?
My visual language is rooted in honesty and surrender. I work exclusively in black on white (ink, charcoal and acrylic on paper) and that choice is deeply intentional. There is nowhere to hide in monochrome. What you see is everything: the pressure of a mark, the hesitation of a line, the energy of a moment. I call it ‘stream of consciousness art’. Abstract mark-making and handwritten text exist together on the same surface, each informing the other. The conceptual premise is simple but demanding: I sit down with no plan, only openness. Whatever arrives on the page is honoured. Nothing is corrected, nothing is concealed. The work becomes a direct record of an interior state.
Can you describe your creative process from conception to completion?
There is very little conception in the traditional sense, and that is the point. I approach the paper with curiosity rather than intention. I want to know what will appear, not dictate it. I sit with whatever I am carrying emotionally or mentally in that moment and I allow it to move through me and onto the surface. Sometimes the marks come first, gestural and instinctive, and then the writing may emerge, or vice versa. Sometimes the two are simultaneous. The piece is complete when it feels complete; there is no reworking, no editing. What appeared was meant to be. The process is as much an act of release as it is of making.
Does narrative, symbolism, or storytelling play a role within your work?
Storytelling is at the absolute core of what I do, though it operates differently from conventional narrative. The stream of consciousness writing that runs through my work is unfiltered and unedited, it is thought made visible. I am connecting to a feeling, a moment, or a thought. And people consistently find their own stories within the work. That is what I believe is driving its resonance: viewers are encountering something private and recognise themselves in it. The work does not tell one story, it opens a space for many. It is personal in its making and yet, somehow, universal in its feeling.
Which artists have most influenced you historically or contemporarily and why?
Cy Twombly is a deep and enduring influence. His integration of mark-making into his work, and the way the gesture becomes feeling is deeply personal yet not blatant. There is a rawness in his surfaces, a sense that something real is being worked through, that I find profoundly moving. Contemporarily, I am drawn to Carolyn Misterek for her freedom in mark-making. She commits fully to the gesture; there is no timidity in her work. That courage, the willingness to let a mark land and stand, is something I deeply respect and aspire to in my own practice.
What personal, cultural, or environmental influences shape your practice?
My personal family life has a huge effect on my work. There’s a lot I’ve had to work through in therapy, and this frequently finds it’s way onto the page. There is also a cultural current I am responding to as well: I think many people are exhausted by the curated, the filtered, the performed. My work is the opposite of that. It is unpolished, direct and alive.
Where is your studio based, and how does the space inform your creativity?
I am currently based in London. I grew up not far from London, in Surrey, and haven’t strayed too far. Though I’ve plans for a big move soon which I hope will influence my work even further!
Do you have any rituals or rhythms that anchor your studio practice?
The most important ritual is the act of arriving without an agenda. I do not plan what I will make. I sit, I breathe, I become present to whatever is already there, emotionally, mentally, physically, and I begin. That quality of openness is both the discipline and the practice. It requires a particular kind of courage to resist the urge to plan, to trust that something will come. Over time, that trust has deepened. The rhythm is not about a fixed time of day or a set duration, it is about returning again and again to that state of honest receptivity.
What bodies of work or projects are you currently developing?
I am continuing to develop my stream of consciousness series which I call my ‘Paper Thoughts’. This feels genuinely alive and evolving at the moment. The response I have received (particularly through social media) has been both surprising and affirming. It is telling me that the direction is right, and that there is an audience that is genuinely hungry for work that feels real and raw. I am also exploring how this practice might translate into different contexts and scales, and what it means to take work that is so intimate and introduce it to a wider audience while preserving what makes it honest. I’ve been creating live pieces of art at various events and its genuinely moving how the work allows me to connect with people there and then.
Where can collectors encounter or acquire your work?
My work is available directly through my website and via social media (@studio.braemar), where I share new pieces as they emerge. Collectors and those interested in acquiring work are welcome to reach out directly through either channel, and I am always open to conversation about the pieces.
For more information visit Studio Braemar and Instagram @studio.braemar
