Please Note: All works appear as “Sold” until release. Join the mailing list for first access.
Oct 18th - Nov 30th 2025
Liminal
is the space between one thing and another. Perhaps it’s moving through an emotion, for example from fear to love, or that in-between feeling as you migrate from your home to a new country. Or it may be a doorway into another world. Whatever it is for you in this moment, I invite you to take some time to journey with me through this exhibition. You’ll find explosions of colour, pieces of earth moulded by the hands of ancient civilisations, and specks of iron burnt into vibrant pigments, brought to life by fire and water. This show is about transformation: you know you cannot go back to who you were, and you do not yet know who you are becoming, so you trust the process and move forward. Welcome.
Coffeewerk + Press
The exhibition at Coffeewerk + Press feels like a joyful alignment. Dan opened the doors to Coffeewerk + Press ten years ago, and my studio was also built that same year. Over the last decade we’ve collaborated many times and shared hours chatting about life, creativity, process, community and connection, to name just a few. One simple thing binds all of these together: a love of daily rituals. For some that’s meditation, one of my favourites. For others, a swim in the sea. If you’re reading this here, perhaps yours is coffee. Whether you like it on the go or shared with a friend, you create a moment for yourself, and Dan and his wonderful team at Coffeewerk + Press invite you to share that moment with them.
I always head to the top floor with my coffee. Whether I’m alone or with company, I’ve always found it peaceful up there. So when Dan and I spoke about creating a show in that space, I wanted to honour the place that I and so many others enjoy, while also creating something immersive that sits in harmony with the building and its daily pilgrims.
Creating a space that feels calm while also exhibiting over one hundred pieces of art felt like an exciting challenge. Keeping the signage to a minimum and leaving space for people to reflect or engage as much as they like was at the forefront of my mind. Art, to me, is subjective. Even when we set an intention, we have no idea how someone will perceive it, and that is the beauty of the experience. It allows each person to connect, reflect or imagine whatever they like in that moment. This resonance is what makes a painting feel a little bit magic, because on no two days will it feel exactly the same. I invite you to sit with the work and enjoy these pieces over the couple of weeks they are on show before they take flight to their next home, which may be their forever home.
Heart Expansion
The first collection of paintings you see here is about the expansion of the heart. We can experience this in many ways and at many times throughout our lives. There are infinite ways a heart opens. Sometimes it’s falling in love. To love another so much that you let go of fear and allow yourself to feel more than you can remember. A desire to experience. A desire to taste all that life offers pulls you forward in a way you never expected. So you let go and let your heart soar, seeing the love in every connection, every creation, every moment.
Sometimes it’s heartbreak. The feeling of everything you love being taken away. A reality you could never have imagined, slipping through your fingers as you sink to depths you’ve never known. Deeper than you even knew existed.
Expansion is not linear. It’s an ever-evolving process of transformation that takes many shapes over time.
For some, closing the heart for years is how they survive, and it can be the kindest thing they ever do for themselves. There is no right or wrong in matters of the heart. What we learn from our experience is what matters most for the evolution of the soul.
When a heart has been shielded for many years, as mine once was, it becomes exhausted. We spend so much energy trying to protect it from hurt, not realising we’re often protecting ourselves from feeling the pain we already carry within.
Then one day there’s a crack. A chink in the armour we’ve spent years, if not lifetimes, forging around the heart. A rumbling begins. Energy and emotion boil to the surface. Like a volcano, we have no idea what is about to erupt. The only certainty is that we cannot control it. We have to surrender and find hope or faith in something greater than ourselves that we will be okay.
We may wonder if we will ever be okay again, or what life is even about. We may ask, Who am I? Where do we come from? We may not have answers, but the journey has begun. As we search, we seek more experience and understanding, inside and out. Through this period we are continually expanding, getting to know ourselves in ways we never imagined.
Not all expansion needs to be deep or vast. Simple moments of connection can make the heart boom with excitement, lighting up a feeling of aliveness like no other. Wildflowers springing up like nature’s fireworks. A blue sky so alive it fills you with awe. Falling into Mother Nature’s arms to be held in the vibration of love as she comes alive around you. From the leaves on the trees to rivers in the woods, from the buzz of bees to birdsong that makes your heart sing, we are all connected.
The heart is a sacred place, but it doesn’t need to be protected from life. We’re here to experience it, to feel it all, with the curiosity of a child meeting the world for the first time. The heart never wants to stop learning, creating connections, feeling alive. What a gift.
No matter how hard life gets, remember the good as well. We never lose the chance to create the life we dream of. There is always an ending to make space for a new beginning, and it’s the in-between where we meet the courage in our hearts. It urges us to keep moving forward, fiercely and fearlessly, with love.
Please Note: All works appear as “Sold” until release. Join the mailing list for first access.
In Between
In 2023, I was selected by the Chinese Ministry of Culture to represent Ireland at the Silk Road Artists Rendezvous, a cultural exchange where 84 artists from 83 countries were brought together to explore the ancient civilisation of Liangzhou. It was an incredible opportunity to spend time making art in China, learning about its rich cultural history and vibrant contemporary art scene. We were invited to speak at the Chinese Academy of Art about our creative process and given the chance to learn more about Eastern philosophies and artistic practices. I found the curation of their work fascinating. This painting, In Between, was created to be hung in a way that allows you, the viewer, to feel more connected to the work. The rawness of the paper floating in front of you removes the sense of a barrier between you and the art, so it feels as if you could almost fall into it. This type of hanging is common in East Asian art, and I’m enjoying experimenting with it. To read more about my time in China, you can click here [blog post coming soon].
Part of my artistic exploration has always been to connect with energy and, while exploring the ancient civilisations of China, I was struck by how many ideas and beliefs we shared in Ireland during similar periods. My painting Bridging Worlds feels like a contemporary vision of a portal tomb, or dolmen as they’re more widely known here, ceremonial sites considered a gateway to the otherworld.
As Irish people, we are lucky to remember our deep connection to the land. Whether it’s our abundance of ringforts or sacred sites that predate the pyramids, we are steeped in a rich history, and it would be wise to respect it. The land gives us life and, without it, we would cease to exist in the physical.
Bridging Worlds
Part of my artistic exploration has always been to connect with energy and, while exploring the ancient civilisations of China, I was struck by how many ideas and beliefs we shared in Ireland during similar periods. My painting Bridging Worlds feels like a contemporary vision of a portal tomb, or dolmen as they’re more widely known here, ceremonial sites considered a gateway to the otherworld.
As Irish people, we are lucky to remember our deep connection to the land. Whether it’s our abundance of ringforts or sacred sites that predate the pyramids, we are steeped in a rich history, and it would be wise to respect it. The land gives us life and, without it, we would cease to exist in the physical.
On a lighter note, and no less important, I must also mention our fairies and their forts. The elementals are curious folk and they can do so much good for us when they are acknowledged and respected. In tradition, it’s said that when you want to enter their kingdom you must first ask permission, and if granted, make an offering. Remembering we are not alone on this planet is a beautiful thing to experience, and it is through your heart that you’ll be invited to see the entirety of this universe.
Soul Paintings
Part of my journey in this life seems to be walking the line between the physical and the non-physical. I’ve tried to avoid both at different times, and yet it’s only when I accept both as one that I feel at peace in my heart. Since childhood I’ve been able to see beyond the physical. For some years I wished I couldn’t, as I hadn’t yet learned to stay grounded while being this open to the world. This is where I learned that art is my anchor: a way to bring this energy through without needing to hold it.
As I’ve learned more about my sensitivity, art has given me a way to channel it. I became present in my practice and let go of the need to understand everything, choosing simply to enjoy it instead. A painting can anchor an energy and invite the viewer to see a reflection of themselves in that moment.
Through this practice I began to blend my ability to see and read energy with my creativity. With that intention I began creating Soul Paintings. The one you see here is my own Soul Painting which, if I’m honest, was the hardest I’ve made to date. Perhaps it was the commitment of creating something just for myself and letting go of expectation, but it was a powerful experience. I’d invite any creative to make a piece for themselves and see how it feels. There is nowhere to hide. While that was quite scary in one way, it was extremely liberating in another.
Some people see the head and shoulders of a person; others see a large bird of prey, like an eagle; some see an entire universe. Whatever it is, I feel deeply connected and seen. A Soul Painting can be many things: a feeling of your energy, a snapshot of your past, a vision of your future, or all of this and more in one painting. Over time people see different things in their Soul Painting, much like how we see ourselves differently over time.
If you’d like to learn more about Soul Paintings, you can do so here. I take on a limited number each year. If there’s no availability, you can sign up to the mailing list and the next openings will be shared there.
In March 2023, I was invited to the beautiful home and art centre of Ionela Sandrina, called The Singing Land. Sandrina, a master ceramicist and soulful teacher with a heart of fire, grew up in a village in the northeast of Romania called Cucuteni, which quickly became one of my favourite places on earth. Words alone can’t describe the richness of her heritage and culture, but to give you a small insight: the unglazed ceramics you see here in Dan’s wonderful antique display cabinet are pieces I picked from the ground while I was there. Little moles tunnel through the hills and, as they surface, they bring up mounds of clay and fragments of pottery from a civilisation that existed 7,000 years ago.
Sandrina’s architecturally designed art centre was built using methods from that time: wooden structures, walls made with horsehair, manure and clay, and hand-cut wooden tiles stretching across the main building. The result feels like something from a children’s book; a piece of art in itself. It is pure magic.
Her gardens are alive with organically grown food; animals that find their way to her for healing, love and shelter; flowers, trees, and beautiful ceramic sculptures made by artists from all over the world. If heaven exists on earth, you can glimpse it here.
I took a 24-hour journey to reach this place. It’s much easier now thanks to new flight options. While there, I learned a traditional method of making raku, a Japanese process of creating ceramics. It’s a beautiful method, led for us by Sandrina and AU ho laM Suzanne from Hong Kong. It was an honour to be in the presence of this group of women whose wisdom and skills have taken decades to craft.
To my surprise, raku has an element of chaos to it, and this is where I come alive. Much like my painting process, raku isn’t something you can control; you have to trust it. While the clay pieces are glowing at around 1,100°C, you lift them from the outdoor kiln with metal tongs and work quickly, sprinkling iron and alcohol over the red-hot pigment. Everything begins to melt. You seal each piece with sawdust to starve it of oxygen so the burning stops, then plunge it into water, allowing the thermal shock to crack the glazes into patterns only nature can create. There were about seven of us working together on over a hundred pieces at once.
This beautiful dance, as we moved as one, with gloves catching sparks, smoke billowing from metal buckets and water hissing as the pieces met it, was unlike anything I’d experienced, and yet I felt completely myself, in flow with each of the artists.
Six or seven years earlier, I’d had a vision of sculptures I would build in the future. Creating these works unlocked something in me. I feel the beginning of a wonderful exploration: moving from making art that lives on the outer edges of a space to creating from the centre of it. For now, I see these as objects weathered by the elements, reminders of our physicality, to meet while passing through liminal spaces like a window or a door. Hanging there, suspended in time and space, they invite us to pause, give thanks, remember someone or something, or set an intention as we move.
We Are All One
70 unique paintings, created together at the same time as part of one bigger picture. I laid out all 70 sheets and painted across the full surface in one continuous session. After they dried, I mixed and separated them so each work stands on its own while still belonging to the whole. This is my first go at an idea I’ve had for a while - making original work that holds its own energy and resonance while keeping it accessible. Like us, each piece is individual and also part of something much bigger.
Please Note: All works appear as “Sold” until release. Join the mailing list for first access.
An Intimate Collection
Remembering
When each piece was finished, I sat and looked into it, on the edge of losing myself and feeling deeply connected. A small painting can be so powerful that, for a moment, everything else disappears.
As you leave the exhibition, you’ll find these works hanging ahead of you on the way back downstairs, like fragments of your journey, reminding you of the feeling of the whole experience.
The final collection in this exhibition is nine intimate paintings. I made them in a deep squat, hands moving fast, cans of spray paint firing as I intuitively sprayed, mixed and poured. Glimmers of another time, or another universe, unfolded before my eyes.
The Other Side
The Other Side is a sculptural piece designed specifically for the Coffeewerk + Press window. It revisits a concept I explored years ago: paintings hung back to back, as if looking from one world into another, and back again. The form is bold and imperfect, hand-cut in wood with imprints of the process pressed into the paint. You can feel more of the chaos of how these works come to life.
My friend Dan Gardner, a fellow artist and fabricator, hand-cut and sculpted a brass fixture to hang the piece, allowing it to float at the centre of the window. It invites you to step through the door and explore my solo exhibition, Liminal.
This work also acts as a bookend to the show. You first meet it from the street, the window side that pulls you in. Later, from the café downstairs, you meet its reverse as you look back out, seeing the other side as you head into the day.
I hope you’ve enjoyed the journey, and perhaps you have more questions now than when you arrived. If you’d like to share your experience, please do. I’d love to hear from you. All works are available to purchase through my online shop, and you can join the mailing list to hear about future shows and receive stories from the studio and insights from my practice.