More Than Art: David & Lucy Morrison’s Collaborative Spirit

The first time that I met Lucy, her shy smile won me over immediately. A remarkably articulate and creative eight-year-old, I am always delighted to see her; so when I learned that her father, David Morrison, was working on a collaborative art project with her, I was very excited. This project will be on exhibit at the TAC Gallery for a one-weekend-only popup exhibition August 29-30.

I recently had a conversation with David and Lucy Morrison about their collaborative project “Still Life With Tiger.”

Can you describe how this collaboration came about? What was the initial spark or idea that led to you creating art together?

During the school year, Lucy and I would run together in her morning run club, and when she’d get tired, we’d start chatting about silly things to keep the pace light. One day, she burst out laughing about the idea of a tiger in a business suit—and that bizarre, funny image kept resurfacing in our conversations. We built whole scenarios around it and eventually said, “We should draw this!” That was the spark. But really, we’ve always made art together. I have photos and videos of Lucy at just two years old, sitting at the kitchen table next to me, scribbling while I worked. From the very beginning, I’ve tried to make sure she had access to art supplies and the freedom to express herself. This collaboration feels like a continuation of something we’ve always done—it just grew up with us.

How do you start a piece? Is there a designated leader, or is it a more fluid process from the beginning?

It’s definitely a fluid process. We usually start with a loose idea—a silly prompt, a title, a quick sketch—and then let it unfold. We bounce ideas back and forth, and honestly, it gets pretty hilarious. Lucy’s got a strong sense of what makes something work, and she’s not afraid to veto my ideas, which I love. At the same time, she listens carefully and pays close attention to the piece as it develops. She’s thoughtful. She wants the work to feel complete and meaningful, even when it’s playful.

How do you balance guiding Lucy’s artistic development with allowing her creative freedom and instinct to lead?

People often assume that because I’m an artist, I’m “teaching” her, but that’s not how it works. My role has always been to make sure she has access to tools, space, and support. She saw me take art seriously—going to shows, working late, being passionate—and she mirrored that. If she asks for guidance on a technique or medium, I’m there. But otherwise, I try to stay out of her way. I want her to develop her own eye, her own voice. I’m just the backup dancer.

What's the most surprising thing you've learned about each other through this artistic collaboration?

I’ve always known Lucy was creative, but working side-by-side really revealed how fearless she is. She doesn’t second-guess herself—she dives right in and figures things out as she goes. It’s a quality I admire deeply, especially as someone who can overthink the tiniest details. Her confidence and playfulness are contagious. I think she may have confirmed that I’m a bit more of a goofball than she realized—there was a lot of laughter during this process.

What’s the most rewarding aspect of creating art together as a father and daughter?

David – For me, it’s everything. Making art together is just one more way I get to tell her how much I love her. It’s been part of our relationship from the beginning—it was the way we communicated before she could speak, and now it’s become a way for her to explore the world. Watching her grow into herself and her creative power has been beyond rewarding. This show is a celebration of all of that.

Lucy – Just spending time with him and thinking of silly ideas to draw. My dad is very funny and we laugh a lot when making art. I feel very happy when we work together.

How do you navigate creative differences or disagreements when they arise? Can you give an example of a time you had to compromise on a piece?

Let’s just say—Lucy loves green. She would paint the world green if she could. And while there is a generous helping of green in this series, I had to draw the line a few times just to keep things balanced. That said, we didn’t really hit any major roadblocks. We usually arrived at the same conclusions about what was working and what wasn’t. If you look closely, you might be able to tell which pieces she had the final say on, but our goal was always to make something that blended our voices. Hopefully, that balance comes through.

Lucy, is there anything about painting with your dad that’s a little tricky sometimes?

Sometimes there are so many ideas that we come up with together that it’s hard to choose which ones we’re going to use for the drawings. We both have different ideas about what we want to use but we mostly agree on what looks best for the finished drawing.

How has your individual artistic practice evolved or been influenced by working collaboratively?

Working with Lucy reconnected me with something I sometimes forget: the joy of creating just to create. I can get caught up in the technical or conceptual aspects of my work, but this collaboration reminded me how fun and freeing it is to just make something weird, bright, and joyful. Her presence brought spontaneity and humor to the forefront.

What message or feeling do you hope viewers take away from seeing your collaborative work?

I hope people are reminded of those special, formative moments with someone they love—those weird, funny, creative sparks that shape who we become. This show is a snapshot of our father/daughter bond, a record of a time we spent building something together. I hope it feels personal and joyful, and that it inspires others to make something with the people they care about. This is our first show together, and hopefully, it’s just the beginning.

Do you have a favorite piece in the exhibition and, if so, why?

I don’t know if I have a single favorite piece, but I have favorite moments from making them. There was one where Lucy took the lead and was being suspiciously quiet about it. When she finally said I could look, I screamed, “It’s SO GOOD!” I couldn’t stop gushing. Then there was a sketch I made of a very derpy-looking tiger that had us both laugh-crying so hard we had to take a break. Every piece has a story like that, which makes choosing a favorite almost impossible.

Lucy, what’s your favorite thing to paint, and how does your dad help you with that?

Lately I’ve been interested in sculpting and painting snakes. We’ve been doing a lot of research on different species. I’m saving for a corn snake, I just have to convince my dad that I’m ready for a pet.

How does it make you feel to be exhibiting this work in the gallery?

TAC is home for me—it’s where I’ve shown work, supported other artists, and grown as part of a community. Lucy calls it “our gallery,” and that couldn’t be more true. She’s been going to shows there since she was little. She’s seen my work on those walls, and now she gets to see her own. She’s asked for years to be in a “real” show—not a school or kids' show—but a gallery show. TAC made that dream real, and watching her step into that moment has been everything.

What unique qualities or perspectives does Lucy bring to the creative process that you might not have considered on your own?

Lucy’s fearless. She jumps into a blank page with no hesitation—no overthinking, no plan B. She trusts herself and lets the work evolve organically. It’s incredibly refreshing to witness. That boldness has made me reflect the way I approach my own work. She reminds me that the best stuff often comes when you stop trying to control the outcome.

Were there any challenges in shifting from your individual artistic practice to a collaborative one, especially with a young artist?

Honestly, it was a gift. Collaborating with Lucy brought joy into the entire process. I can get lost in the weeds when I’m working solo—obsessing over details, worrying about the outcome. With her, it was all about play, discovery, and laughter. We were each other’s biggest cheerleaders, and that energy made the whole experience feel electric.

Lucy, if you could give your dad an art assignment, what would it be? 

Similar to the tigers, a ball python in a hat seems like a funny and interesting idea that I think we could do together.