The Four Gentlemen is a tradition rooted in classical East Asian painting — four subjects, four seasons, four quiet studies in what it means to endure: orchid for spring, bamboo for summer, chrysanthemum for autumn, plum blossom for winter. The aesthetic is built on simplicity, minimalism, and the concept of ma — negative space — where what is left unpainted carries as much weight as the ink itself. There are no corrections in sumi-e. Every brushstroke is final, decisive, a direct reflection of the artist's state of mind in that exact moment.

My state of mind, as it happened, was heavily medicated.

I painted these during an online art course while working through severe back pain and an intimate acquaintance with opioids. I could not tell you how to replicate them. I'm not entirely sure I was the one making all the decisions. But the process became something I didn't expect — part of a long healing journey where my spirit needed as much recovery as my body did, and this quiet, unforgiving medium met me exactly where I was.

The fact that they turned out this well is either a testament to the practice, the painkillers, or both.

32cm × 23.5cm per painting. Available as a complete set of four.

Having completed a sumi-e ink painting course, I did what any reasonable artist does immediately after developing a new skill: abandoned the medium entirely and picked up a carving tool.

Linocut printmaking felt like a natural next step — or at least, that's what I told myself. The real goal was to see whether the spontaneity of sumi-e's single decisive brushstrokes could survive being translated into something permanent and carved. Spoiler: it can, but it has opinions about it.

'Sumi' is an abstract exploration of that translation — the fluid, gestural energy of ink brushwork reimagined through carved lino, printed in oil-based relief ink on high quality paper. The slash of deep red cutting across the composition is achieved through Chine-collé, a printmaking technique that bonds a separate paper layer during the printing process itself, adding both colour and texture in a single press.

This is an Artist's Proof — a once-off. There are no editions. What you see is what exists.

Print: 15cm × 15cm · Border: 18cm × 16cm

Somewhere between a painting and a garden, and considerably more dramatic than either.

This piece came from a very specific urge: to live amongst flowers and trees without the inconvenience of, well, outside. The solution was obviously to bring autumn indoors at scale — hundreds of high-quality fake flowers in deep burgundy, burnt orange, amber, and gold, layered and arranged across a mounted frame until the wall itself disappeared beneath them. Trailing strands of greenery spill from the bottom, because it needed just a little wildness to finish it off.

It hangs like a painting. It feels like walking into a forest at the exact right time of year.

The palette is unabashedly autumnal — warm, lush, and slightly maximalist in the way that only feels right when you're standing in front of it. It is, in short, a whole moment.

One of a kind. Enquire via email for postage and handling options.

There are some descriptions in fiction that lodge themselves somewhere behind your eyes and simply refuse to leave.

George R.R. Martin's description of Daenerys Targaryen's dragon eggs was one of those for me:

"One egg was a deep green, with burnished bronze flecks that came and went depending on how Dany turned it. Another was pale cream streaked with gold. The last was black, as black as a midnight sea, yet alive with scarlet ripples and swirls."

I couldn't get them out of my head. So I made them instead.

These are my personal renditions — what I saw when I read those words, pulled from imagination and made tangible. They are not screen-accurate replicas. They are something closer to a reader's memory of a thing that never existed, which feels more honest anyway.

The three sit together as a set, as they should. Some things are just meant to be kept together.

Approx. height 10cm · Width approx. 7cm · Perfect for bookshelf display