Up close

I often walk along the coast path towards St Just, I love the vast expanse of sea and sky. Here the weather is changeable, the winters are bleak and exposed, the summers can be warm and dry. The native wild flowers thrive, bluebells give way to carpets of sea pinks. As I walk, I’m drawn into looking at the detail in the landscape, making close-up sketches of flower petals or seed pods.

When I look through my sketchbooks I find drawings of shapes and forms studies of plants set against turquoise seas or orange lichen shinning out through foggy damp grey skies.

At home I surround myself with collections of flowers, feathers, pebbles and shells, all important finds. I’m fascinated by the patterns in nature, how a single petal is replicated to form the whole flower. The way the sea erodes the sharp edges off a pebble to give each its unique shape.

There is beauty in the order of complex patterns but also a melancholic appeal in the impermanence of all things. With the passage of time we move through the seasons, cycles of life, death and rebirth. Sometimes things in bud, or things in decay, although imperfect have a transient beauty.