Gallery 2026

A New Chapter: Kingfisher in the Window Light

After a year that felt like riding a storm-lashed current—2025, with its relentless tides of change, loss, reinvention, and unexpected grace—I step into 2026 not with a fanfare, but with a quiet inhale. Like the first soft light of dawn after a long night, there’s a stillness in my bones now, a sense of being grounded, I didn’t know I was aching for.

2025 tested me. It cracked open routines, scattered plans like dandelion seeds on the wind, and demanded resilience I wasn’t sure I possessed. And yet—amid the uncertainty—I painted. Amid the upheaval, I showed up. I unrolled my canvases beneath the autumnal skies of Somerset, hung my work in village halls and shared my vision during the vibrant pulse of the Somerset Art Weeks in September. To create beauty when the world feels unsteady is its own act of courage. I did it. I showed up.

And now, 2026 unfolds like a fresh sheet of watercolour paper—bright, promising, waiting. My first mark upon it is The King of Fishers, a painting born not just from observation, but from reverence. The kingfisher—this jewel-feathered sovereign of rivers and reeds—has always felt like a symbol to me: fleeting, fiercely alive, a burst of iridescence against the grey. I’ve painted him perched above a spill of my signature florals—honeysuckle, foxgloves, wild roses—entwining nature’s quiet elegance with his electric brilliance. It’s a conversation between stillness and motion, delicacy and boldness. Much like the past year. Much like this new beginning.

From January 12th, The King of Fishers will take its place in the front window of the Orchard Gallery in Taunton. Not tucked in a corner, not hidden—but on display, catching the January light, perhaps pausing a passer-by mid-stride with a flicker of colour in the winter air. There’s something profoundly hopeful about that: placing your heart, quite literally, in a window for all to see.

This year, I’m not rushing toward goals with clenched fists. I'm learning to hold them like a kingfisher holds a fish—gently, with precision, aware of how easily beauty can slip away. 2026 feels like an invitation: to create with clarity, to share with sincerity, and to let the quiet joy of making something true lead the way.

So here’s to the first painting.
To windows that frame more than art—
They frame intent, resilience, rebirth.
Here’s to 2026:
not a roar, but a ripple.
And may it carry us all gently forward.