• And that day she remembered how to purr

    And that day she remembered how to purr

  • The Prolific Beauty of Our Panicked Landscape

    The Prolific Beauty of Our Panicked Landscape

  • Hear my cry

    Hear my cry

    I have spent my whole life trying to understand the word ‘beautiful’, because I have always felt it, however, I could never put it into words. It would torture me with its relentless need to be seen, whilst revelling in its capacity to be known. But now, in this moment, I understand what it means literally to experience dreams coming true. 
    When I started this journey, I had two questions. Why are we so obsessed with the word Beauty? And why does it resonate with me so much?
    I’ve always wanted to paint the “indescribable”, and I may have thought for one moment that that was a translation of the word. 
    You see, this particular moment in time radiates with a yearning to be seen, a dream to resonate with one individual, and yet proffers so much more. My studio team has become my family and my family are my team. I gained so much more than just one connection and it overwhelms me every time I breathe. 
    I am drawn to the idea of pure resonation and enthralled by the realisation that beauty can only be felt: there are no words for that which thrives by teetering on the edge of fragility, whilst balancing between the extremities of life. These two poles occasionally brush against each other in a way that entirely escapes articulation, and that meeting point is something we seek, yearn for, and perhaps find, whilst constantly questioning.
    But, to feel beauty, we must accept that our trauma is sublime. It is universal and individual at the same time, while remaining completely ethereal. I realise now that I have never had to seek it out, because this world is heartbreakingly beautiful every day, especially because of the absolute singularity of every soul that fills it. 
    Human. Animal. Natural. We all have souls; objects too. We are all beauty, and to me that is  exactly what is encapsulated within the word ‘life’, indulging us completely. 
    It is heartbreakingly beautiful just to exist. I mean those two words literally. Life is really fucking beautiful. It just means accepting everything that comes with it, spilling into the time that we have; one of the many definitions of ‘love’.
  • Rebirth