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.