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.