How a small act of kindness became an act of prolific giving
The story of how the 500 painting project began
The first pursuit
It was 2019 and I was living alone on a quiet street in Sheffield. My job was demanding and ate up most of my time and energy. In my free time, I was mostly focused on self-improvement—healing from the past and dreaming of the future. Every morning I would wake up at 5:30 so that I could read, journal and meditate before setting off for work. In the evenings, I would go to the gym or spend time reading, drawing or tinkering on the piano.
That summer, on my lunchtime walks, I came upon some inspirations. One was a random painting someone had left in an alleyway, propped up against a wall, free to any passerby who wanted it. The other was a children’s book that had been left on a park bench wrapped in a clear plastic bag with a note inside that read, “Well done! You are the lucky finder of this book. You can decide to keep it, pass it on to someone else, or leave it for another child to find. Once you’ve enjoyed it, please rehide it (or another book) so that others can join the fun.”
I didn’t take either of these items, but felt so inspired by the human spirit to give with no expectation of anything in return—just a reminder to pay it forward.
My 33rd birthday was on the horizon, too—and while I’m not one for parties, I had been thinking of doing a random act of kindness type of thing to celebrate instead.
So I had the idea to paint 33 paintings and give them away. And I loved the idea that by painting 33 paintings, I would be ‘rapidly iterating’ on my own practice as a painter.
What would the very practice of painting 33 paintings in quick succession reveal to me at the end? How would my style change from 1 to 33, or would it change? What would I learn?
The practice
So, I began the work in October with the deadline of my birthday on 4th November. I ordered small, 8x10” canvases in bulk from Amazon, picked up some paint from the hobby store, and then set up a space on my living room floor to start working.
The very first painting I created was one I ended up giving to a colleague at work as a parting gift as he was leaving for a new job. He had been a calm and patient inspiration to me, helping me navigate the choppy waters of the work we were doing. That was the first painting I did on a canvas of this size. After that, I painted 33 more so I would have exactly 33 to give away on my birthday.
The very first painting that I gave to a colleague. After this, I painted 33 more for the first art drop.
My living room floor became my art studio, I spread a drop cloth out on the floor and created an assembly line of canvases, typically working over 4 or 5 at a time. I was painting mostly with my hands, spreading paint over the canvases, dotting color here and there. I would add a layer of paint on and then set it aside to dry while I worked on the next one, then another. Then I’d come back to the first one and add another layer. I would do this two or three times, and then do a final once over using a paint pen to add finer details.
I loved the iterative process and the act of adding layer after layer. It gave me a lot of freedom in the final outcome of each piece. If I didn’t like how something was starting to look, I could just add more layers and change it up. This layering has remained at the very core of my process to this day.
The first art drop
As the 4th of November approached, I raced to wrap up the project, and had to figure out how I was going to drop the canvases across Sheffield. I really liked how the book I’d found in the park months earler had been wrapped in a celophane envelope with a lovely letter inside—and given the amount of rain and damp we can expect up here in England, I wanted to ensure the canvases had some protection.
I have to confess I had this worry—I imagined someone making a fuss out of this mad woman (me) who’s thrown plastic wrapped paintings all over town, and what a mess she’s made! I mean you never know. But I pushed past that anxiety, and my friends encouraged me too.
So I wrote a little letter, printed out 33 copies and then packaged everything up in celophane envelopes.
A friend went out with me into the night on the 3rd of November in Sheffield. We started in Rivelin Valley, up through Walkley and then into City Centre. I can’t remember all of the locations we hit that night, but I left paintings all over the city, like easter eggs. I didn’t want to fully hide them, I wanted them to be found of course, so I’d prop them up in a shop window or a park bench—somewhere obvious and easy to spot. I tweeted and posted on Instagram what I was doing, and then waited.
The next morning I was overwhelmed by the response—my replies and DMs were filling up with kind responses from people finding my canvases or at least sharing how much they loved the project. A reporter from BBC Sheffield reached out on Twitter. I was truly touched, my work had made a positive impact.
On the morning of the 5th, I found myself on a call with the radio station. I was so nervous! It never once occurred to me that what I was doing might be newsworthy in any way. And I almost said ‘no, thanks.’ But, in the end, my friends encouraged me to just do it—it was a positive news story, and the call was only 2-3 minutes long.
When I listen now I can hear myself holding back a bit; but to be fair, I had only just done this small project, the feedback was still coming in, and I hadn’t had a chance to process all of it. I mean, look at where it’s gone since then!
The segment just before mine, by the way, was a report on local pollution 😂 My fear of being the mad woman who was chucking plastic wrapped canvases around the place seemed to become a fine joke from the universe! Clever! But fortunately the pollution segment came to an end just before my segment began.
The best part about the segment was that they had sent a reporter out into the ‘field’ to try and find a painting! But, classic Britain, it was pouring rain the morning they did the report (5th November), and most of the paintings seemed to have been found by then. So this poor reporter was out there treading through the mud looking for a painting to no avail. The interviews the reporter got on the trail were really lovely though! It’s nice to listen back to them.
I feel I owe those guys a painting or two 😂
The paintings
Below are the 33 paintings I dropped on the very first art drop. You can see many more on the home page of my website, www.courtneykyle.com.
The lessons and gains
The first thought that came to mind with all the feedback I received was “you truly do reap what you sow.”
I put rainbows out into the world and I was getting them right back. I could see this act of kindness multiply itself. The rewards came back in the kind words, the recognition, and appreciation I received from so many people. I had travelled through some difficult waters in the past, but there I was pursuing the light and what did I find but a pot of gold sitting there at the end of that rainbow.
It also taught me that if you have a gift, you should share it. I had this work in me that needed to get out. I let down my barriers and expectations about what it means to put art into the world and I simply did the work and put it out. It felt like a spiritual calling, and I’m glad I followed it. I wrote about this in more detail in a post I wrote in June 2023 about reviving my creative spirit.
It also allowed me to revisit the act of discipline in a new light. Discipline is a great teacher—showing up to something that is a practice and a commitment strengthens you, it shows you what you are capable of in ways you might have never discovered otherwise. There were days I thought about stopping, I battled the thoughts—’why would you give away your art?’ ‘doesn’t this devalue your art if you give it away for free?’ ‘you’re wasting your time,’ ‘they’re going to think you’re mad.’ But I’m still going.
That discipline and strength has multiplied in other areas of my life too—I’ve since run a marathon (never ever thought I’d do that); I’ve renovated a house; I’ve levelled up in my career; I’ve built this writing practice. I’m doing well, I feel successful, because I have come to love the art of practice. And I’ve learned that life is an endless act of creation. Sometimes it sucks, and its super hard and can get lonely but… I love it—I love the battles, the dips, the flips, and how the outcomes I get are a little better every day. I love the people I meet and the conversations I have and the pulse of my life as I pursue bigger goals.
So, why 500?
I gave 33 paintings away and accidentally gained a whole new perspective on life.
And I wanted more; and I knew that wanting more meant giving more. Also, I love having an excuse to do creative work prolifically. I want to be an ‘absurd sphinx in the eyes of others’ (Fernando Pessoa’s words). And I want to create an absurd amount of work while I’m here on this planet, with this finite amount of time and energy that I have. At the end of the day, our lives are like a tiny flash—a momentary flame leaping out of a great fire—so why not make the most of it?
So I decided to keep going with the project after I finished the first 33. I pondered on it—I thought maybe I’d do 100, 150 or 300? But then somehow I landed on 500. I don’t have a good reason for it, it just felt awesome, impressive and suitably daunting.
OK maybe uncomfortably daunting at times, but I’ve persisted and the rewards haven’t stopped. Who knew there’d be a huge upside to giving your art away for free?
I’ve done art drops all over the place, and have had friends and colleauges help me too. It’s becoming more of a happening these days with friends adding paint to my canvases, and taking canvases to drop on trips with them.
My art is global. My paintings have been dropped from Israel to California. I have about 200 more paintings to drop and I plan on making them go far and wide.
I hope my works are like little seeds, and that maybe a few of the 500 people who find my work, or even people who see my paintings but don’t pick them up—maybe some of those people will decide to share their gifts too!
Fred Rogers—host of a classic American children’s TV show called Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood—is a big inspiration for me. In an interview he said, and I’m paraphrasing because I’m struggling to find the exact clip—’the best thing we can do is to make good look good.’ I remind myself of this all the time. What if ‘doing good things’ is an attractive proposition? I also believe in leading by example, so maybe if I do some good things, it will inspire others to do some good things too.
To be clear—I don’t think anyone should feel the need to do anything as extreme as what I’m doing. I’ve got many reasons for taking things as far as I have. Sometimes the best and only thing you need to give is some love to yourself—a day off or some self care. But maybe you’ve got something more to share? Wisdom, talents, time. Just remember that you reap what you sow.
Also, everyone’s journey is unique. But I hope my journey inspires you.
If you’ve read this far, thank you. I really appreciate you joining me here.
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