24 Months Later

Back in 2024, The Wimble - an online Wimbledon newspaper - put out a call asking to visit local homes for a feature. As someone whose artwork was gradually taking over every available wall space, I thought it might be a good opportunity to share what I was doing.

Journalist Zak Asgard came to visit, we had a great chat, and the resulting article featured both my work and my home studio. At the time, my focus was very much on tufting, creating large-scale rugs and wall hangings inspired by landscape, colour and texture.

Looking back now, it's fascinating to see how much can change in just two years.

Although I had studied tapestry at art school, I hadn't seriously pursued it for many years. That began to change with a series of small woven pieces, and then a broken wrist unexpectedly accelerated the process. Unable to comfortably use my tufting gun for a period of time, I converted my tufting frame back into a tapestry frame and started weaving again.

Sometimes setbacks really do become opportunities.

Around the same time, I joined the British Tapestry Group and the Society of Designer Craftsmen. Both organisations have been incredibly supportive, providing exhibition opportunities, encouragement and access to experienced makers whose advice has been invaluable.

One of the highlights was exhibiting in Woven Worlds at the Barbican with the British Tapestry Group in November 2025. Then, earlier this year, my tapestry Summer Dive was selected for the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition. As anyone who has ever applied to exhibitions knows, there are usually far more rejections than acceptances along the way, so this felt like a significant milestone and a reassuring sign that I was moving in the right direction.

At the end of 2025, I wrote down a list of artistic goals and shared them with my friends on WhatsApp to keep myself accountable.

Some were practical:

• Keep my website up to date.

• Attend exhibitions and gallery openings.

• Continue learning through courses and workshops.

• Create new large-scale tapestry work.

Others were more ambitious:

• Exhibit at the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition

• Gain gallery representation.

• Be accepted into Prism, the prestigious textile group.

• Create an immersive Open Studio experience.

Amazingly, one of those visualisations has already become reality. Standing in the Royal Academy Summer Exhibition as an exhibiting artist rather than a visitor was a moment I had imagined many times.

Alongside weaving, I've also spent some time thinking about why I make the work I do. While writing applications and artist statements, I began to notice a common thread running through past and current projects: translation.

Whether I'm responding to a landscape, a memory, a song, a photograph or even tattoos on skin, I'm interested in how experiences are translated from one form into another through the process of weaving. It was one of those realisations that seems obvious once you've seen it, but took years to articulate.

I've also become more involved in the organisations I've joined, helping with events such as SDC Celebrates and supporting forthcoming exhibitions and applications. And, somewhat unexpectedly, I've started writing regular blogs.

Originally, this was encouraged by my husband as a way of driving traffic to my website. In reality, the blogs have become something much more valuable: a record of exhibitions visited, artists discovered, ideas explored and moments that have inspired me along the way.

Which brings me back to The Wimble.

Being interviewed again two years later was a wonderful opportunity to take stock and reflect on how far things have come. Perhaps the nicest part was discovering that two neighbours had already spotted the article and sent messages before I'd even had a chance to share it myself.

Hopefully I'll see a few familiar faces at my Open Studio in September.

After all, it's always nice when the people living just around the corner discover what you've been quietly making all this time. You can find the feature on The Wimble here.