Observer of the Hidden Realms

There has been a lot happening quietly in the studio over the past few weeks, and this latest painting feels like an important point in the development of my work.

Observer of the Hidden Realms is the third painting in my new body of work The Painted Menagerie. It has taken me almost a month to complete, and it feels like the point at which several ideas I have been exploring - pattern, symbolism, colour and the vessel itself - began to come together more fully.

The vessel as a metaphor

The vessel has become central to this body of work, both as an object and as a metaphor: a container for life, echoing the human body as a temporary vessel for consciousness. Its flowers, abundant but short-lived, suggest the beauty and impermanence of our own existence, while also expressing our capacity to bring inner beauty, creativity and joy into the world.

The animals themselves bring another presence to the paintings. Each has its own character and symbolic quality, and I find that their meaning often develops gradually as I work.

With Observer of the Hidden Realms, that sense of meaning became particularly strong.

Introducing the patterned tablecloth

One of the biggest developments in this painting is the patterned tablecloth.

Pattern and historical decoration have always been important to me, but until now much of that ornament had been contained within the vessel itself. In this painting, I wanted the pattern to begin to move beyond the vessel and into the surrounding space.

The tablecloth draws on my love of historical textiles and decorative art, but it also carries a more personal significance. I think of it as a quiet nod to those who came before us - to the domestic spaces, rituals, hands and lives that form part of what we inherit.

It has also changed the way I think about the whole composition. Rather than the vessel simply sitting against a background, the surface beneath it becomes part of the story.

Layering colour slowly

My process is very slow and layered.

I rarely arrive at the final colour immediately. Instead, I build the surface gradually, allowing earlier colours to remain visible beneath later ones. I often think of this as a kind of colour narrative: each stage leaves something behind, even when it is partly covered.

That is one of the things I love most about painting. The finished surface contains its own history.

With this painting, that process took longer than usual. Some passages came easily; others felt much slower. There were moments when the painting seemed to ask for patience rather than momentum.

What this painting came to mean

At the same time as I was painting Observer of the Hidden Realms, I was moving through a period of reflection in my own life.

I found myself recognising patterns more clearly, reassessing certain relationships and situations, and beginning to let go of things that no longer felt right.

I do not always know what a painting will come to mean when I begin it. Often the meaning seems to emerge alongside the act of making.

This one became connected with looking beneath the surface — with recognising what has been hidden, becoming more conscious of patterns, and allowing that awareness to bring change.

And then, as I finished it, something shifted.

I felt lighter.

Upcoming Christmas Markets

Fursdon House Christmas Market

Saturday 7th November

Fursdon House, Cadbury, Exeter, Devon, EX5 5JS

Rural Living Show

21st - 22nd November 2026 - 10am - 5pm

King’s College Prep School, Taunton, TA2 8AA

Hestercombe - Christmas Market - with The Somerset Collective

4th - 5th December 2026

Hestercombe House & Gardens, Cheddon Fitzpaine, Taunton, TA2 8LG

A New Season

Devon Open Studios, Thelma Hulbert Gallery, New Paintings & What's Next

It feels as though a great deal has happened since I last wrote here in July.

At the time, I had recently joined Lantic Gallery in Tiverton and had just been selected for the Devon Open Studios Emerging Artist Exhibition at Thelma Hulbert Gallery. I was still deciding which work I would submit and, perhaps more importantly, beginning to understand where this new body of painting was leading me.

A few months later, the exhibition is open, one of my paintings has already found a new home, and the ideas I was beginning to explore earlier in the year have developed into something that feels much more clearly my own.

Devon Open Studios and Thelma Hulbert Gallery

This September I took part in Devon Open Studios, alongside having work selected for the Emerging Artist Exhibition at Thelma Hulbert Gallery in Honiton.

Seeing my paintings hanging in the gallery has been a very special milestone. There is something quite different about making work alone in the studio and then seeing it properly framed, hung and given space alongside the work of other artists.

I was also thrilled to learn that one of my paintings had sold during the exhibition. Knowing that a painting has connected strongly enough with someone that they want to live with it is still an extraordinary feeling.

The Emerging Artist Exhibition continues at Thelma Hulbert Gallery until 24 October, so there is still time to visit if you are in or around Honiton.

Where the paintings have been heading

Earlier this year I was working predominantly on small botanical paintings on handmade paper. Those pieces were incredibly important because they gave me room to experiment - with colour, decorative borders, repeated flowers, pattern and, increasingly, vessels.

Over the summer I began taking those ideas onto larger linen canvases.

The flowers are still central, but the paintings have gradually become more narrative. Decorated vessels now sit at the heart of the compostitions, each carrying its own symbolic story and overflowing with an abundance of colourful flowers,.

As I paint I am finding that the work is beginning to speak back to me. The compositions seem to be developing in a very natural way, gradually unfolding into something that feels more and more aligned with my deepest interests and passions.

New paintings

The newest paintings are much larger than my earlier work and are painted primarily in acrylic on linen.

Working on this scale has given the compositions more room to breathe and has allowed me to spend much more time developing the vessels themselves - treating their surfaces almost as a place to tell another part of the story.

I am still starting with drawing and smaller studies. My sketchbooks are full of vessel shapes, animals, flowers, colour combinations and patterns, some of which eventually find their way into the finished canvases.

I don't think I have reached an end point - I hope I never do - but I do feel that I have arrived at a much clearer understanding of what I want to explore through the work.

A clearer direction

It’s fascinating for me to look back at the work I was making at the beginning of this year, I can see the path from those small daily botanical studies to where I am now, although back then I couldn’t possibly have imagined that this is where I would have landed.

The 100 Days of Play project gave me permission to experiment. The smaller paintings helped me find a language of flowers, vessels, colour and pattern. And the larger paintings are now giving those ideas space to develop into something deeper.

There is still a great deal I want to explore, but for the first time in a long while, the different parts of my creative life feel connected.

Thank you, as always, for following the work as it develops — whether you have visited an exhibition, bought a painting, stopped to talk to me at an event, or simply followed along online. It means a great deal.

A little publication news

I was also delighted to see work from my 100 Day Project featured in the beautifully curated UPPERCASE magazine.

That project became an important part of my practice earlier this year. Painting every day gave me the freedom to explore flowers, colour, pattern and decorative detail without putting too much pressure on the outcome, and many of the ideas I discovered during that time have continued to find their way into the larger paintings I’m making now.

It feels particularly lovely to see some of that work in print, especially as a number of the original paintings from the project have since gone on to be shown through Lantic Gallery and Thelma Hulbert Gallery.

A New Chapter: Lantic Gallery, Devon Open Studios and Recent Summer Events

Over the past few weeks, there have been some lovely developments in my work, and it feels as though a new chapter is beginning.

After spending much of this year developing a more cohesive collection of original paintings, I am delighted to share that my work is now represented by Lantic Gallery in Tiverton.

Joining Lantic Gallery

Lantic is a beautiful independent gallery showing work by artists and makers from across the South West, and it is a real honour to see my paintings displayed there alongside the work of so many talented artists.

The paintings currently at the gallery are part of my developing botanical collection, painted in acrylic gouache on handmade paper. Each piece begins with close observation of seasonal flowers before being developed through colour, pattern and decorative borders.

This collection has grown from a period of experimentation and play in the studio, during which I have been exploring how botanical forms can sit alongside influences from folk art, medieval illumination and historic decorative traditions.

Seeing the paintings framed and displayed together at Lantic has been a particularly special moment. After working on them quietly in my Devon studio, it is wonderful to know that they can now be viewed in person.

Selected for the Devon Open Studios Emerging Artist Exhibition

I am also very pleased to have been selected for the Devon Open Studios Emerging Artist Exhibition at Thelma Hulbert Gallery in Honiton.

The exhibition brings together a selected group of artists taking part in Devon Open Studios and will run from 12 September to 24 October 2026.

It feels especially meaningful to be included in an exhibition connected with Devon Open Studios, as becoming part of the Devon Artist Network has encouraged me to think more seriously about the direction of my practice and how I present my work.

I am currently deciding which paintings to include and will be sharing more about the exhibition and the work selected for it closer to September.

Recent Summer Events

Alongside these gallery developments, I have also enjoyed taking my work out into the world at two recent summer events.

In June, I joined The Somerset Collective at Jordan’s Courtyard, followed by the Ashley Court Summer Fayre in July.

It was lovely to meet visitors, talk about the inspiration and process behind the paintings, and see which pieces people were naturally drawn towards. Events like these give me a valuable opportunity to step away from the studio and hear how others respond to the work.

They have also helped me to see more clearly how my original paintings sit alongside my collection of prints, cards and illustrated pieces. Increasingly, I feel that the original paintings are becoming the heart of The Illustrarium, with the printed collection growing naturally from them.

Thank you to everyone who stopped to talk, bought something or simply spent time looking through the work. Those conversations and moments of encouragement mean a great deal to a small independent artist.

Paintings Available Directly From My Studio

A small selection of original paintings will shortly be available directly from my studio and has not yet been added to my online shop.

These include individually hand-painted botanical pieces in acrylic gouache on handmade paper, each surrounded by its own decorative border.

Please email me at susie@theillustrarium.com if you would like to receive photographs, dimensions, and prices for the available work.

Looking Ahead

The next few months will be focused on preparing for the exhibition at Thelma Hulbert Gallery and continuing to develop this new body of work.

I am looking forward to creating more paintings inspired by seasonal flowers, gardens and the Devon countryside, while continuing to explore the colour, pattern and historical decorative influences that have gradually become central to my practice.

I’ll be sharing my progress on Instagram if you’d like to follow along.

Thank you, as always, for following along and supporting my work. I am very grateful to everyone who visits the website, comes to an event, shares my paintings or chooses to bring one of my pieces into their home.

Repetition, Colour and Small Worlds

Over the past few weeks, I’ve continued working on my 100 Days of Play project — a daily painting practice that has gradually become something more considered.

What began as a way to loosen up and explore has started to take shape as a body of work, rooted in botanical observation, repetition, and decorative form.

Alongside this, the shift into spring has been impossible to ignore. I’ve been spending more time in the garden, clearing beds, noticing what’s returning, and preparing for the season ahead.

It feels quietly connected to the work. The same sense of anticipation, of things emerging slowly, and not all at once.

Working in small formats has encouraged a different kind of attention. Each piece is contained, but together they begin to speak to one another, colours shifting, shapes repeating, small decisions carrying forward into the next painting.

I’ve found myself returning to the same flowers, primroses, auriculas, pansies. Not to replicate them, but to understand them more fully. With each version, something settles.

Flowers in Vessels

Alongside these smaller studies, I’ve also begun to explore the work at a slightly larger scale.

These pieces feel different, a little more considered, but still rooted in the same language that is emerging through the daily practice.

I’ve been particularly drawn to the idea of flowers in vessels, something contained, held, and composed. They feel closer to finished pieces, though still part of the same process of exploration. There is something timeless about the blue and white and I am enjoying the neutrality of it paired with the bold backgrounds, colourful florals and patterned borders. The vessels themselves feel like a natural place to hold a sense of history, a surface onto which stories, references, and influences can quietly sit. It’s something I feel increasingly drawn to, and would like to continue exploring.

Beyond the Frame

I’ve also started to play with the idea of pattern extending beyond the central image, building a surrounding world rather than a single framed moment.

It’s something I’d like to continue developing, allowing the smaller paintings to expand outward into something more immersive and decorative.

With the arrival of the Easter holidays, the days have taken on a slightly different rhythm, and I’ve found myself moving a little more slowly through the project.

I’m now just over a third of the way through, around Day 35, and beginning to notice a quiet shift in direction. The work feels more connected, more assured, as small ideas start to carry forward from one piece to the next. I’m continuing to follow where it leads.

Recent pansy posies have been a particular favourite, small, but full of character, their bright little faces take me back to my childhood and are a reminder of how much can be discovered within a single subject.

The 100 Day Project - Two Weeks In

100 days of play: what I’m learning so far

A couple of weeks ago, I began what I’ve been calling ‘100 days of play’, my version of the 100-day project.

Already, just two weeks in, several unexpected things have begun to unfold. Read on to discover how this simple daily practice has been quietly reshaping the way I paint.

When I started, my intention was simply to return to a daily creative rhythm. In the past, I’ve attempted the project but set my expectations far too high, and inevitably drifted away when I could’t keep up.

This year I decided to approach it differently: smaller, gentler, and without the pressure to produce anything perfect.

Now, just over two weeks in, I’m beginning to notice some surprising things happening.

Rebuilding the painting muscle

Having had quite a break from regular painting, one of the first things I noticed was how I’d forgotten how much concentration it requires. It’s a kind of focused quiet - the sort where you sit down intending to paint for half an hour and suddenly realise much more time has passed. Coming back to painting after a break, I realised that my ability to sustain that kind of concentration had dwindled considerably.

Daily painting is gradually rebuilding that muscle. I tend to work with colour quite intuitively, and each piece asks for attention and patience. My colour choices unfold as the painting progresses; it becomes a kind of symbiotic process where the work almost begins to speak back to me. With each passing day, I find it easier to settle into that deeply absorbed state again.

The beauty of repetition

So far, many of the paintings have returned to the same few flowers: snowdrops, primroses, fritillaries, daffodils, and now hellebores. At first, I wondered whether repeating the same subjects might feel limiting, but the opposite has proved true. Each time I paint the same flower again, something shifts slightly in the way I approach it, and it’s really giving me the chance to grow more confident with my chosen paint medium Acryclic Gouache, which I haven’t really used before. The repetition is allowing the work to evolve naturally and makes it feel like a quiet discovery.

Permission to Explore

Another gift of the project has been the freedom it creates. When you commit to one hundred pieces, perfection quickly becomes less important than curiosity. The project almost gives you permission to try things you might otherwise hesitate over, which feels perfect for where I am at right now.

I’m particularly enjoying working with pre-painted grounds on my papers, which gently push me towards colour combinations I wouldn’t normally choose, or might even actively avoid. Some paintings work better than others, of course, but each one seems to move the work forward in some small way.

watching the work emerge

When I looked at the first selection pieces together, I noticed clear patterns beginning to form.

Certain colour palettes seem to return again and again. The decorative borders I’ve been playing with have gradually evolved into a visual language of their own, and the flowers themselves are becoming slightly more stylised with each new painting.

It’s been a fascinating process to observe. Rather than creating isolated paintings, it feels more like building a small world, one piece at a time.

Continuing the Journey

The hedgerows and my cottage garden are only just beginning to wake up here in Devon, and every week seems to bring a new flower to paint. I’m curious to see how the series will evolve as the season unfolds.

For now, I’m simply enjoying the daily ritual: sitting down at my desk, mixing colours, and letting the next small painting take shape.

If you’d like to follow along, I’m sharing each piece daily over on Instagram as the project continues.

Building a New Body of Work

At last, spring is beginning to take shape. After what has felt like endless rain here in the South West, the shift in light and air has landed for me as quite a relief.

January and February have always felt reflective to me - slower, softer months that invite a different rhythm. I naturally retreat a little during this time; it’s somehow comforting to spend cosier days in the studio, with my sketchbook open, and paints laid out.

After a very busy festive season exhibiting at Dartington, Rural Living and Ashley Court, I realised that what I needed most this year was depth rather than pace. For the foreseeable future, I’m focusing more intentionally on building a cohesive body of original work.

I am so grateful for all the support I received over the festive season. It was full of wonderful conversations, beautiful venues, and the privilege of seeing my work find new homes. But as the new year arrived, I felt a strong pull back to the studio.

The winter months have given me space to return to the foundations of my practice: pencil sketches, hand-painted studies, and the quiet discipline of observation. Slowing down has allowed me to notice the small things again - and to reconsider where I want to place my focus in the months ahead.

Introducing the 100-day project with 100 days of play

This week, I’ve also begun the 100 Day Project, which I’ve decided to title ‘100 Days of Play’.

I’ve attempted the project in the past, but have always been overly ambitious about what I hoped to create. When I couldn’t keep up, I somehow moved away from it. So this year, determined to see it through, I’m taking a gentler approach.

Rather than piling on pressure, I’m allowing it to be intuitive and exploratory. Some days that means developing folk-inspired motifs and symbolic hearts; on others, it’s small botanical studies inspired by hedgerow finds and seasonal blooms - primroses, snowdrops, and early signs of spring. And, occasionally, it’s simply intended to be experimental for the sake of my own curiosity.

Working small has been unexpectedly grounding. There is something powerful in repetition - in returning to similar forms and allowing them to evolve slowly. So far, I’ve been working mostly in acrylics, which is slightly outside my comfort zone, but it’s felt surprisingly liberating to try something different without needing to fixate on the outcome.

You can follow along by joining me over on Instagram or if you want to take part yourself it’s not too late to begin and it’s entirely up to you what you choose to create for the 100 days.

narrative & direction

Alongside this, I’ve been deepening my interest in folklore, botanical symbolism, and heritage decorative arts. Increasingly, I’m weaving narrative into my work - particularly exploring symbolic forms and the quiet strength of inspirational, intriguing, or forgotten women in history.

These threads are beginning to sit alongside one another in a way that feels more cohesive and intentional.

Super Seconds Festival

As I focus on building this new body of work, I’ll also be taking part in the upcoming Super Seconds Festival - offering a small selection of studio samples and end-of-line pieces at reduced prices. It feels like a natural moment to gently clear space, both physically and creatively, for what is emerging next.

The festival runs from the 7th-8th March, and during that time a limited number of pieces will be available at up to 35% off.

2026 - a shift in focus

While I’m considering a handful of curated events later in the year, my priority is building a cohesive collection of original pieces that feel truly representative of where my practice is heading.

For now, I’m content to remain close to the studio, gathering inspiration from hedgerows and allowing the work to unfold at its own pace. It feels deeply aligned with where my energy is flowing right now.

I’m excited to see what this year will bring, and I look forward to sharing the journey as it unfolds.