Original Artwork — Only One Available.
Oils on gesso’d panel, hand-signed by the artist. Accompanied by a signed Letter of Provenance and an Explanatory Letter that places this work within the unfolding narrative of Otherwurlde.
Each original in this collection may be acquired either framed — with a design selected to complement the individual artwork — or unframed for those who prefer to commission their own presentation.
Complimentary delivery within mainland UK. Worldwide shipping arranged with care.
The fox is young. He runs because running feels like play, not strategy. The forest opens itself to him easily; time still feels generous.
Mid-leap, he clears a fallen trunk — once upright, now softened by moss and bracken. A mouse has claimed its hollows; ferns stitch themselves into the grain. The log has finished one life and quietly sustains others. The fox barely registers this.
What stops him is the air.
Dragonflies rise around the log — sudden, iridescent, unmissable. Until now they have lived unseen: years below the surface of a nearby pond, growing slowly, surviving fish, birds, shadows and hunger. All of that time has been preparation. Now they have emerged into their intended form.
They have no tomorrow to waste.
Everything they are must happen now: feeding, mating, continuation. Their lives burn brightly, compressed into a season already passing even as it unfolds. They are not conscious — but the truth hangs around them like halos.
The fox cannot know this. He ran this way yesterday and none of this was here. Yet here it is today. Now. He only knows that something extraordinary is happening at exactly the wrong — or perhaps exactly the right — moment. He has time. They do not.
Around them, the forest seems to pause. A luna moth lifts the darker edge of the scene. Bees drift through. Bubbles float past — fragile worlds turning just enough to allow magic to occur; in one, a small beetle is suspended, carried in a perfect universe.
To the fox, magic is precisely what this feels like.
He stands between three states of being:
behind him, what has died and become useful;
before him, what is briefly complete;
within him, the unspent abundance of youth.
This is not a lesson delivered.
It is an encounter.
The fox will live far longer than the dragonflies. He will have seasons and second chances. Yet it is the dragonflies — not the enduring — who are most alive in this moment.
For everything, there is a season.
Today, the fox has stumbled into theirs.
Throughout my journey as an artist, I’ve tried various surfaces & colours… From acrylics on boxed canvas to the refined oils on board I now employ. Each combination wields a distinct influence over the final outcome. Canvas imbues a rustic charm, its weave adding texture. For intricate details, only oil on board suffices, offering subtle nuances and unmatched ability to blend.
Yet, my attention extends beyond the artwork itself; the frames for Original Artworks hold equal significance. Through experience, I’ve learnt how a well-selected frame can elevate a piece, sometimes even reshaping its interpretation. Every choice, from canvas to frame, is a deliberate step towards crafting not just art, but an experience.
