Marguerite was born in Auckland, carrying the artistic legacy of her great-grandfather, renowned New Zealand artist Charles Blomfield. The 1970s found her in London where she met and later married the influential Scottish psychiatrist and author, Dr. R.D. Laing. Together with their son Charles, they divided their time between London and the enchanted mountain landscapes of continental Europe and the United States until Laing's death in 1989.
For over three decades, Marguerite has maintained a psychoanalytic psychotherapy practice, infusing her artworks with a distinctive other-worldliness that often reveals profound insights into human experience.
Her drawings radiate a poignant serenity; others create a sense of communion that evokes transcendence—offering viewers a rare glimpse into the eternal present moment.
Marguerite's original works grace private collections across London, Rome, California, Colorado, Singapore, Tokyo, Sydney, and Auckland. The University of Glasgow's Special Collections Department preserves a significant collection of originals from her years with Ronnie Laing.
Her talent has earned international recognition, with invitations to exhibit at the Chelsea Art Fair in London (2018), the Venice Biennale (2020), and the Florence Biennale (2021)—though the Venice exhibition was sadly prevented by the Covid-19 pandemic.
This recently completed series emerged in the liminal spaces—before, between, and after my clinical working hours. The creative force behind these works feels tidal in nature; when it flows, I cannot stem it and must surrender to its current. Yet when I deliberately seek its presence, I discover it operates on its own mysterious timing, beyond my control."
“All The Music We Cannot Hear”
In this piece, I explore the rapturous interplay between primordial energies. Dominated by passionate crimsons and magentas that surge across the canvas, the composition reveals itself through layers of luminous transparency. The circular form on the left—a pale gold orb with a violet heart—stands in quiet dialogue with the flowing, ribbon-like structures that cascade through fields of vermilion and coral.
This work emerged during one of those tidal moments of creativity between clinical sessions, where time seems to suspend itself. The fluid movement suggests both the turbulence and the serenity of emotional landscapes I've encountered in my practice—how even within intensity, there exists a center of calm reflection.
The translucent layering technique allows earlier gestures to remain partially visible, mirroring how our deepest experiences continue to influence us even as new moments unfold. Here, I invite viewers to find their own resonance within these chromatic conversations, perhaps glimpsing something of the eternal present that connects us all.
“All The Music We Cannot Hear II”
In this composition, I've allowed the ancient and contemporary to converse across time. Deep cobalt blues cradle earthen reds and ochres, creating a realm where the primordial and the present moment coexist. The luminous gold spiraling forms—reminiscent of symbolic glyphs or cosmic notations—dance across the canvas with an almost Aztec sensibility, inscribing themselves into the collective memory with a radiance that speaks of sacred offerings and celestial pathways.
The rhythmic gold markings suggest a language beyond words—perhaps an intuitive knowledge that emerges from the depths of consciousness. During its creation, I felt connected to something archetypal, as though my hand was guided by whispers from ancient civilizations while simultaneously responding to the modern psyche's complexities.
The tension between the fluid azure background and the fiery, terrestrial center creates a dynamic portal where viewers might recognize something deeply familiar yet impossible to name. This interplay reflects what I often witness in my psychotherapy practice—how ancestral patterns and personal histories intertwine, creating rich tapestries of meaning that transcend linear time. The circle motif offers a moment of unity amidst the beautiful chaos, inviting contemplation of wholeness in a fragmented world."
“All The Music We Cannot Hear III”
"This piece emerged during one of those rare moments when the veil between worlds seems gossamer-thin. I found myself capturing what feels like a transcendent golden dawn—that liminal space where night surrenders to day in a blaze of transformative light. The horizon line creates a threshold between realms: above, dramatic coral clouds sculpted in white gestures suggest mountainous forms hovering in celestial space; below, a molten reflection pools in amber and saffron, creating a mirror world equally alive with possibility.
There is something deeply healing in these warm hues that radiate from within the canvas. They speak to that ineffable moment when darkness yields to illumination—a process I've witnessed countless times in my therapeutic practice, when a person suddenly perceives their experience through a different lens and everything is bathed in new understanding.
The textural brushwork, particularly in the upper region, carries an emotional velocity that settles into the more meditative stillness of the lower realm. This duality creates a visual metaphor for the way transformative experiences often arrive—through turbulence followed by clarity. I painted this between sessions, in that golden hour when the studio was flooded with similar light, feeling connected to something eternal yet utterly present—that perfect moment of becoming that belongs to no time but its own."
“All The Music We Cannot Hear IV”
This Series of Paintings seem to speak to my views without words. They seem to impart harmony and joy.
“All The Music We Cannot Hear VI”
"All the Music We Cannot Hear emerged in one of those unstoppable tidal flows of creativity that arrived between clinical sessions. These vibrant symphonies of fuchsia, crimson, and sunshine yellow dance across the canvas like sound waves made visible—frequencies beyond our ordinary perception yet somehow recognizable to the soul. The fluid interplay between these saturated hues creates visual harmonies that resonate at the threshold of synesthesia, where color becomes sound and sound transforms into pure feeling.
The luminous yellow streaks act as melodic lines cutting through the rich chordal structures of magenta and scarlet, while the emerald edge suggests a harmonic resolution waiting just beyond our reach. I was thinking of those sounds that exist in realms we cannot access with our physical ears—the resonance of cellular communication, the vibration of thought forms, the subtle music of consciousness itself.
In my work with patients, I've often sensed these invisible frequencies—the unspoken emotions, the wordless knowing, the deep currents of being that flow beneath the surface of conventional discourse. This painting invites viewers to attune themselves to what lies beyond ordinary perception, to lean into the spaces between notes, and to recognize that the most profound music often plays in silence. Like a visual equivalent of overtones, these colours blend and separate in ways that suggest harmonies existing simultaneously in multiple dimensions."
