Studio Notes: Late-summer blooms, studio shifts & finding a gentler rhythm

Here we are in the heart of July, with the Norfolk sun casting long shadows across the garden. You may have noticed I’ve been a tad absent from your inboxes this month - life and the daily juggle of running a small creative business have taken absolute priority lately, and I’ve had to step away from the screen for a moment. I’m learning to treat these quiet spells not as a failure, but as part of the natural ebb and flow of a creative life.

This morning felt like a real marker of this seasonal shift. My son and I went out to buy a bunch of flowers to gift to his teacher as a small token of gratitude to mark the end of the school year. We chose a vibrant bunch of sunflowers. Flowers are a quick reminder of how something so incredibly simple can instantly brighten someone’s day. That is exactly why I love flowers so much, not just for their obvious beauty, but for what they convey, the quiet messages they carry, and the genuine warmth they bring into a room.

With the school summer holidays speeding towards us, my daily rhythms are about to shift entirely. Over the coming weeks, my working days will flip to the quiet evening hours, allowing me to spend the bright, sun-drenched days making memories with my family. So let’s be honest, I may not be appearing in your inbox every week but I’ll try!

Knowing this shift is coming has made me fiercely protective of my carving time. I’ve spent these last couple of weeks prioritising carving sessions in my studio shed, letting the summer warmth fuel my design sessions.

In the Studio: Changing the Flow

While printing my recent carvings will have to wait for those quiet evenings, the summer sunshine has been the perfect fuel for my sketching and carving. I’ve been busy translating my love for traditional British garden flowers onto the block, letting the collection grow at a gentler, more human pace.

Here’s what’s been blooming on the carving table this week:

The Dahlia: a design that’s been sitting quietly in my sketchbook for what feels like an age, waiting for the right moment to come to life. My recent weekend trip to National Trust Hidcote was the ultimate spark I needed. Seeing the spectacular dahlias in full, glorious bloom made me finally finish carving those intricate, geometric petals.

The Peony: my peony carving (a key piece of my upcoming British Garden Flower collection) is officially finished! Capturing those lush, heavy, overlapping layers of petals in the lino has been a labour of love, and I can't wait to see how she translates to paper.

Both of these blocks are sitting patiently on my desk, fully carved and waiting for their first run through the press.

This Week's Inspiration

💬 "A garden is a grand teacher. It teaches patience and careful watchfulness; it teaches industry and thrift; above all it teaches entire trust." — Gertrude Jekyll

🌿This Week’s Slow-Living Observation: Spotting the First Signs of Lammas. We’re heading towards the ancient festival of Lammas (or Loaf Mass) on 1st August, subtlety marking the threshold of autumn. While we’re still firmly in the warmth of July, nature is quietly preparing for the turn of the year.

Can you spot the very first signs of this seasonal shift?

 The Hedgerows: Look closely at the brambles, although they’re not ripe yet, the tiny, hard green blackberries are officially beginning to form.

The Trees: Notice the first, heavy green acorns weighing down the oak branches, or the tiny, delicate hazel husks hiding in the green leaves.

The Light: Pay attention to how the evening light is just beginning to soften and turn a fraction more golden as the sun sets slightly earlier each day.