Things I’ve Noticed…
For a long time, I called this journal Studio Notes — a place to share glimpses into my painting process and the stories behind my work.
Over time, I realised that the beginnings of my paintings often happen long before I enter the studio. They begin with noticing: a shift in light, the colour of a field, the sound of birdsong, the texture of a hedgerow, or a fleeting moment in the landscape.
This is a place to gather those observations — the small things that catch my attention and, sometimes, find their way into a painting.
Things I've Noticed | Field Notes: The Promise of a New Day
I love this time of day, especially when it seems as though I am the only one out and about.
The sun hadn't even risen, just a hint of the beautiful sunrise to come. A rosy, apricot pink glow reflected in the clouds, mingling with bruised purples and mauves across the sky. The world was slowly waking, but just for a little while longer I hugged it to myself.
I walked along the track before coming to the lane. Step by step I went, inch by inch the sun rose, bringing with it the promise of a new day.
Crows strutted and squawked across the land, their dark silhouettes moving against the softening light. After days of strong winds, the copse felt eerily silent this morning. No rustling branches, no leaves dancing in the breeze. Just stillness.
Field Notes: Being Watched
The morning began beneath a cotton-wool shawl of cloud draped across the landscape.
Everything felt muted.
The light was soft, the colours subdued, as though the fields hadn't quite woken for the day.
As I emerged from the copse, two crows were strutting across the stubble ahead of me. They hopped and skipped with exaggerated confidence, keeping just enough distance between us before finally taking to the air, deciding I'd come a little too close for comfort.
I smiled.
It always feels as though the birds make these decisions long before I realise I've interrupted them.
The Hares, the Stubble Fields and the Passing of Time…
Cooler today.
More cloud.
The sound of combines working across the fields.
Raucous crows calling overhead.
The soft susurration of wind moving through the trees.
Two hares chasing each other across the stubble.
I wonder if they’ve noticed me.
They move quickly, playfully, completely absorbed in their own little world. For a moment, I am simply another part of the landscape — a quiet observer sitting with my coffee, watching.