"Everything that slows us down and forces patience, everything that sets us back into the slow circles of nature, is a help. Gardening is an instrument of grace."   (May Sarton)

It’s hard to convince myself that gardening is an instrument of grace when I am plastered in mud and weary from a day planting bulbs.  In fact I’ve been planting bulbs for the last month; 2,715 of them – I trudge around the garden zombie-like, weighed down by the sludge on my boots and trousers.  I’m a bulb-planting zombie.  But May Sarton is right; the slow process of digging down deep and burying my little nuggets of treasure, does set me back into the ‘slow circles of nature’.  

That is what I love about working closely with nature.  I have to work at her pace and now, in November that is slow; slowing down to the virtual stop in December.  And after a busy year in the garden I need the break.  Spring with its excitement, followed by the colourful chaos of high summer and the flurry of harvest and preparation that comes with the late summer and autumn, all combine to make the gardener’s life a pretty busy one.  But even the most back-breaking jobs and the coldest, wettest days, never once make me want to do anything else for a living and I am always deeply grateful that life has allowed me to live my path this way.

Working with Gaia, feeling her life-giving soil in my hands, nurturing her wild seeds and my own chosen precious gems, embracing the beauty and wallowing in the scents she sends, it is a wonder to me that anyone would want to be anything but a gardener!  Luckily everyone can be a gardener – even without a garden:  With so many wonderful community gardening projects to join, allotments to be had, window boxes to install, gardening is within pretty much everyone’s reach.  For those of us lucky enough to have our own gardens, the path to happiness is just a step outside the door.

Biophilia – our instinctive connection with nature – is part of us all.  Living without this connection can lead to illness and a feeling of ‘something missing’ in our lives.  Going for a walk or enjoying a view bring a certain amount of connection but for me, the act of working with the land, as gardeners do, brings even greater benefits, involving, as it does, the elements of creativity and nuture that fulfil other human desires.  Creativity -  art - is what we are able to give back to the world.  Working with the world, with Earth herself, nurturing Nature to create art in the form of a garden, is incredibly fulfilling.  It is joyous, sacred work.  I worship daily; kneeling in the dirt, loving every minute.  

In the Blue Zones of the world (the five areas where people live longer, happier and healthier than anywhere else) the people engage in daily unautomated tasks such as gardening, eat plant based diets and place great value on social and family life.  In many ways, they lead a ‘Simple Life’ – something to which many of us aspire.  Gardening takes us back to that simple life.  

We don’t need a horticultural degree to make a garden – everything we need to know is out there in the Collective Unconscious (or, failing that, Google).  Humans have been working the land for thousands of years – it’s what we’re meant to do.  If we give ourselves a chance we can re-find our way into the flow of natural life.  In fact it is an easy and instinctive act to step outside and back into May Sarton’s ‘slow circles of nature’.

It’s not so easy, though, in my experience, to remain entirely graceful while you’re doing it.

At 21 years old, engineer William Roy was tasked with mapping the Scottish highlands. Following the rebellion of 1745, the military decided they needed to open up the wild highlands and to do this they had to understand them. William Roy and his teams spent eight years measuring distances with a 50ft chain, the rest was sketched by eye. 

This is the origin of the OS Map. 

Born from a military desire to control, the bright orange Explorer maps now form an integral part of our freedom to roam, to adventure and explore Britain. In less than 300 years these maps have completely reversed their philosophy and we should take a moment to celebrate the possibilities that lie within their folds.

Every time I pick one of the maps off the blue bookcase that stands in the corner of my office I experience the tiniest flutter of excitement. It means I’m heading outside, it means my rucksack and my precious Scarpa boots will soon follow. It means I’m going on a journey. Thanks to Roy and his ability to dream big and achieve bigger I’m able to explore an empty valley on my own in an afternoon, knowing I’ll make it home. Or I can cycle the length of the country knowing exactly what obstacles I’ll meet each day. I can chose somewhere to pitch my tent before I even leave the house. Isn’t that amazing?!

In 2017 we’re so obsessed with surveillance, with who is tracking us and that nothing is unknown but why not highlight one positive in the culture of fear and control. Every detail of the landscape is known and available to us, from the farm wall to the footbridge or bridlepath that might guide us to the breathtaking view over our home town. Having that knowledge gives us a freedom that didn’t exist in the past. So next time you reach for your OS take a second to thank William Roy and the explorers who’ve made your adventure possible.

Happy travels!

Nicola:  We’d love you to start by telling us about your journey and work as a painter and print maker? 

Deborah:  The course of my art has been a convoluted one! In my 20s and 30s I painted mostly in oils. I would paint the plants, vegetables and flowers I grew in my cottage garden in Norwich, where I then lived. I exhibited in galleries in East Anglia and at the Mall Galleries. 

A move to Diss prompted a change in direction. I trained to be a teacher of English, as literature is my other absorbing love. It was not an intentional break from art, but teaching consumed all my time.  It left little space for my painting and drawing, which went on the back burner for many years. As time went by I felt a gnawing need to return to it. So I began creating small paintings, sketches and Lino prints again.  

This year I finished teaching.  I have resumed my art career full time and am relishing every moment of it!  My work now goes beyond my immediate environment to encompass the local landscape of the Fenland and Breckland.   

I go out to sketch and return with handfuls of seedpods, grasses, feathers and other detritus. Sometimes they spark a series of paintings, such as my current ones of hedgerow plants. Or they simply decorate my studio poised to inspire. I love the small, subtle details of our native flora and enjoy making detailed sketches of them. In paintings I like to show the insects and bugs we live alongside. I will often bring home empty snail shells from my walks as reference material. 

My bird prints have come from a lifelong love of birds. Norfolk couldn’t be a better place to study birds. I try to visit the North Norfolk and Suffolk coast whenever I can.  Here I sit in the bird hides, draw and observe. In winter it is such a magical place. 

I love the process of printmaking.  I especially love creating Lino prints. I find them both absorbing and meditative. I make sketches from a wide range of sources. I use my own photographs, as well as the bird's behaviour and habitats, to capture their character. I use a converted mangle, a somewhat eccentric beast, as a printing press. I never fail to enjoy the reveal of that first print of a series.  

Nicola:  From where do you draw your inspiration? 

Deborah:  There are so many wonderful printmakers.  I love the work of Thomas Bewick, Clare Leighton, Agnes Miller Parker and Charles Tunnicliffe, whose bird art is peerless.  His work shows such a deep understanding and knowledge of birds. I would love to have the chance to go out sketching with him! 

I also enjoy Japanese prints for their simplicity and use of spaces between subjects. Literature, especially nature writing, is also a significant influence. I love thepoetry of Edward Thomas and Robert Frost for their observations of the natural world. I love the writing of Alison Uttley and Flora Thompson. They record the seasonal changes so beautifully. I also love the work of Richard Mabey, whose books are a source of constant reference. As well as the late Roger Deakin who lived close by.

The local landscape is also of great importance to me. I am very lucky to live near Redgrave and Lopham Fen, a local Wildlife Trust. I walk and draw here regularly –it is my local patch. In the winter I love the soft, muted colour of the reed beds and the birds that haunt them. It is a place of constant joy

Nicola:  You live in Diss, a small market town in the Waveney Valley in the UK.  Can you tell us more about your town, your home and your creative space? 

Deborah: Diss is a small market town that sits on the border of Norfolk and Suffolk. Its most arresting feature is “The Mere”, a six-acre lake in the centre of the town that my garden borders. This lake brings in hordes of ducks and other wildfowl that share the garden with Alan,my ginger cat. Alan is often seen making a running dash at them to let them know whose garden it really is. My home is a small 18th century cottage that was once a blacksmith’s. The blacksmith had a pet raven working alongside him, in what is now my book room. It has had lots of additions over the years and is rather an architectural hodgepodge

My studio is an outbuilding, tucked into the top of my sloping garden. Although it is damp and cold in winter it has lots of light. It is blissfully cut off from distractions. That is, except for the bird feeders outside my window.  The garden used to be part of a market garden and some of the old, gnarled apple trees remain.

Nicola:  Can you tell us about the process of your work from the time of inspiration to the finished artwork?

Deborah: Most of my work comes from the jottings and drawings I make in my sketchbooks. I try to draw as much as possible. This could be quick sketches of birds flitting about, or more detailed plant drawings. Some develop into prints and oil paintings, even if years later. Others are made simply for the sheer joy of drawing.

I love the way drawing makes you look at something.It shows if your mind drifts for even a second. Drawing trains you to keep focused and be mindful at all times. When drawing and preparing a print of birds I love to research and understand the subject. I have an ever-increasing library of natural history books. I love to look at the work of Victorian naturalists. I also find the Observer series and Puffin Picture books of nature irresistible. 

Nicola:  When you aren’t creating what do you enjoy doing?

Deborah: I am very much involved in nature conservation, including the local Wildlife Trusts and Butterfly Conservation.I am very keen on moths and keep a moth trap to record what visits the garden. It constantly amazes me what nocturnal creatures roam the garden. I am also a keen gardener and grow as much of my own fruit and vegetables as I can.

Nicola:  You say you seek the overlooked and celebrate the small joys in life.  Can you tell us what this means to you?

Deborah:I like to draw on those plants, insects and birds that aren’t always noticed. I want to encourage others to stop and take notice of the small wonders around us. I rarely return from a walk without seeing something new and love togo home and discover more about it. Many native British plants aren't showy and their delicate, subtle beauty can be missed. When out walking I try to record the insects I see. I'm often found crawling about in hedgerows or bogs, trying to catch sight of some elusive creature. I would love to encourage others to see and share these small joys aswell.  

Nicola: And if our readers want to know more about you and your work, where can they find you?

My work can be found on my website or on Instagram. My prints are for sale on Etsy and on Folksy.

The days are getting noticeably shorter and winter is coming. It’s always tempting to stay indoors and draw the curtains, to sit in a pool of lamplight and cocoon yourself away from the cold and the drizzle. The winds and driving rain have all but stripped the trees of their autumn finery and the world is once again grey and brown and unwelcoming.

It’s a strange time, this epoch between the golds and bronzes of October and the frost and sparkle of Yuletide. Creeping chills and damp trying to insinuate their way into the house. That feeling of trying to push away the gloom as thick blankets of cloud sit low and oppressive.

A walk may not seem like a tempting prospect. The last few leaves are fluttering down to join the rest, now sodden, on the muddy earth. Jewel-like orchard fruits are gone too, either harvested or blown onto the ground to rot where they’ve landed. So what can we see on days like these? What little – to coin an Instagram hashtag – flashes of delight?

Well: a lot of green. Lichens and mosses, dusting and carpeting tree trunks and stone walls with rich velvety textures. Emerald and verdigris, teal and chartreuse. Look too at the evergreens: the dark glossy leaves of the holly, the silvery needles of the firs.

Those pale and empty skies act as the perfect foil to a flock of geese flying overhead in a V formation – one of my favourite sights whilst out walking in ‘almost winter’. And, of course, bare branches mean you’ll see more life in the trees too: squirrels darting about, inquisitive robins keeping watch over their jealously-guarded territories.

Try to embrace the starkness and the shorter days. The moody light, the glimpses into little habitats which are usually hidden from view by foliage. Small woodland pools, scattered with penny-like birch leaves, reflecting the weak sunshine and almost pearlescent trunks. Tiny kingdoms thrive on the top of fenceposts and along fallen trees. Even the decay itself, as the vegetation starts to change colour and collapse into itself, has a beauty all of its own.

Two tots tumble across the green scattering stacks of crisp amber leaves. The horse chestnut
shelters grandad as they play, a perfect leaning post.

Stiff like starfish they run, bundled in playsuits, hats & wellington boots. Hunting for treasure, squeals echo across the square as they succeed. A dog pricks its ears.

Deep brown conkers clatter together in pockets. At home, they will sit on a shelf until dry, dull, a memory of autumn.

Nicola:  You describe yourself as a nature-inspired creative.  Can you tell us about the work you do and what drew you to be an artist?

Victoria:  As a child, I spent my free time creating, writing & on road trips with my Dad in the countryside. I believe my calling has always been a creative one, but it took me years to accept it.

I was raised believing a ‘proper’ job was required for life, and that art could only be a hobby. Although I was never discouraged from creating as a career, I was never pushed in that direction either. It’s only since becoming a mother I've realised I want my daughters to know having a creative career is more than ok.  That it’s actually a blessing.

I’ve recently discovered a love of Pyrography.  Burning wildflowers onto a wooden hand mannequin, or a tree slice is a meditative process for me. I've written a children’s picture book I intend on illustrating when I get the chance. I just need more hours in the day or better time management. One or the other!  I’m excited about this book, as I want to share the message of slowing down and appreciating nature with everyone.

Nicola:  Can you tell us about where you live, the space you work in and what a day in your life looks like?

Victoria:  My day starts between the hours of five and six in the morning, and coffee is an essential part to that. It’s a morning ritual I don’t think I could ever break.  Although I will never admit to being a caffeine addict!  This is my time before the family wakes and the morning rush commences.

I wouldn’t say I’m a morning person, but I find if I have time to wake at my own pace my days run smoother & I'm less rushed.  I spend this time drinking coffee, doing yoga, meditating or catching up on Instagram.  My working hours are less structured these days.  This is because I now have a baby and have started college, so two days a week I'm studying or on placement.

I’ve never been the 9-5 type, so I grab my creative opportunities where I can.  This is often in the evening when the children are asleep, or a day when I'm childfree.

I have a little studio in my home.  It's great for convenience, and to be able to shut the door without tidying it all away from little hands or the dog.  I do dream of having a studio with a view.  I live in Cumbria where I'm surrounded by countryside, hills and all the inspiration I need.  To have that on my doorstep would be the ultimate dream.

Nicola:  From where do you get your inspiration?  And how does it influence the work you do?

Victoria:  It’s all about escapism. Being able to have that moment of calm, even if briefly.  I try to emulate that in my work. There’s something freeing about being out in the wild and feeling you’re the only one around for miles. To be free of the thoughts of the busy lives most of us lead.  It’s all about being present in the moment.

It’s taken a lot of practice and soul searching to realise what my goal is with my art.  Over time, and during many walks in the forest or trips to the fells, I have come to realise this is my inspiration. My home is full of little treasures I collect, like jars of heart-shaped stones or shells. Jugs full of feathers and the odd dried poppy head. This is my way of bringing the outdoors in and keeping that little bit of inspiration close by.

Nicola:  You talk about deciding to leave your rushed and busy life behind in search of simplicity.  Can you tell us more about this story and why living a simple life is important to you?

Victoria:  I can’t say I lived a typical, fast-paced life like some.  I’ve never been a city girl, but I’d spend my days rushing about doing things I thought I should be doing. I realised I was putting my own dreams on hold.  It wasn't intentional, but I was focusing on other people and burning myself out in the process.  It left very little time for me.  I didn't think I needed time for me.

When my life changed dramatically over the space of a year I found myself in the midst of grief and self-discovery.  Losing both my parents close together taught me the importance of a living a life well lived.  It taught me what mattered most.  

It taught me what I wanted for my children.  I realised that if I lived an intentional life it would guide them towards doing the same.  I can't say I've got it sorted.  I'm very much a work in progress, but I'm giving it my best shot!

Nicola:  Your work and life philosophy is to be true to yourself, follow your passion and create your own path.  I love every one of these.  Can you tell us how you incorporate this philosophy into your life and work?

Victoria:  I used to spend so much time doing what I thought others wanted from me. Thinking that because I could create that product or that style of artwork, it would be my ‘path’.  The problem was it never sat well with me. I was churning out artwork I didn’t like, and it was a light bulb moment when I realised I didn’t have too!  It sounds silly but others influenced me.  I never allowed myself the time to create what I liked or what I wanted.

It all comes down to confidence. Having the confidence to just be you. Realising this was eye-opening.  Having this confidence keeps you on the path you’re supposed to be on.  The best part is that happiness follows. I only wish I’d discovered this sooner!

Nicola:  For our readers who have a creative dream, but don’t feel they have the courage to pursue that dream, what would say to them?

Victoria:  By all means work in a job that pays the bills and brings in the cash.  It’s a part of life, as we need to earn money.  But don’t let that stop you from creating the life you want. That idea floating around in the back of your mind, the one that pops up saying “I really want to make/sew/paint/do that” … find the time to do it. You’ll be surprised at how making time to create the things your heart desires opens doors for you.

You’ll start noticing little synchronicities pop up in your life and the next thing you know you’ve opened an Etsy shop, or you’re meeting other like-minded folks for coffee each week. They’ll know someone who knows someone and little by little your dreams will become a reality.

You’ve absolutely nothing to lose!

Visit Victoria's website, Feather & Wild, or find her on Instagram and Twitter.

Falling, falling… literally and figuratively falling.

In autumn, time falls back, at least on the face of the clock.

When you spend enough time in rural Romania, your soul will fall back in time, as you see the villagers with strong horses pulling carts up to the forests to harvest their firewood, and the few surviving looms being warped once again – maybe for their last time, until the creative renaissance sets in and young people begin weaving hemp and nettle cloth anew.

Now is the time when everything seems to fall into place, and fall out of it at the same time.

Autumn has long held the number one place in my heart for the most enduring and endearing season of all. Until now. Or rather, just this once I am taking the liberty to change my mind.

Fall can be beautifully coloured, as most years it is, but every 40 years or so nature decides on another plan. While not an entirely sinister plot, one can be frightened in a storm if they happen to be caught out in the pounding hail and slapping rain. As fall was just setting in, my husband, daughter and I were happily expecting to spend the first night in our new home as the clouds rolled in, faster than we have ever seen before, sweeping like billowing smoke over the mountain crest.

As we trudged onward in the blinding storm, unable to see or hear each other, we were unaware of the trees falling down around us. In just 20 minutes the wind took its chance, sweeping gates off of their feet and uprooting glorious walnuts and ash, breaking firs clean in half. Clay tiles took their own fate to fall to the earth as well…

The ferocious storm, a reminder of a changing climate and the effects of unconscious consumerism, will remain in our memories for a long time. Just as there have been hurricanes and forest fires this season aplenty, life carries on and after a time everything falls into place once again.

The walnut that fell? Well, that will be firewood for next summer, but at the moment it is feeding us with oyster mushrooms that spontaneously erupted when we lovingly carried it into the wood shed. Life goes on.

Along came the rain, for more than a 24 hour stay, and do you know what appeared in abundance at the bottom of the creek? Clay. Perfect for building, sculpting and playing with. It has been there all along, buried under layers of rocks, now it is accessible for those who need a handful or two for a wood oven repair.

Every time you fall down and pick yourself back up, is a chance to start over. It is the ultimate opportunity for change. Any season, a single day, or a unique experience can tell us that maybe life has a different path in store for us, a challenge if you will. Since life really is about the journey, just follow along and you will find out where you are meant to be, if only for a moment, or many years into the future.

An entire year we have spent now in Breb, Romania and it has perhaps been our most adventurous year yet. We have weathered the storms together, harvested the powerful nutrients from wild herbs, and burnt the alder and beech firewood of local forests for comfort and warmth.

Everything we need in this world is right here, around us and within us.

These are the directions if you want to reach YHA Black Sail, one of Britain's most isolated hostels—one that could be mistaken for its Scottish cousin, the Bothy. Under the protective bulk of Great Gable at the head of the Liza river, sits a one-story building; clad in Lake District slate, it’s a welcome sight for walkers coming down the Ennerdale Valley, or over the hills from Wasdale, Borrowdale and Buttermere. Black Sail sits at the convergence of many trails making it a special kind of secret. If you know it’s there you’ll have no trouble finding it.

A dreary Monday in October is an unusual time to explore this lesser-known corner of the Lake District but we set off undeterred. As we walk, the path plays hide-and-seek between the pines. One minute we’re tramping rusty gravel along the riverside, next we find ourselves squinting at wet grass for signs of wear. Like a stereoscope we’re transported to Norway, to British Columbia, to Sweden and back to Ennerdale under honey leaves and a retreating fern line. We’re not aiming for Black Sail but we’ve heard rumours and as the rain seeps under our cuffs, the lure of the hostel grows.

Our plan to climb Pillar, on the north edge of the valley, is scuppered by low cloud so we content ourselves with gazing up at the sawtooth ridge swirling in a cloak of fog and rain. We’re entranced by a valley that couldn’t be further from the pastoral fells of the eastern lakes; Ennerdale is imperfect, the water has a grey tinge and its flanks are swathed in a forest that’s broken only by streams rattling down with unpredictable intensity. We emerge from the trees and a game of ‘imagine you’re in Scandinavia’ to the scream of a chainsaw and west coast accents bouncing of Kirk Fell. Forestry work brings us sharply back to reality. We might be in the wild heart of an adventure but life goes on for the guardians of the valley so we move swiftly past. I’m wet and keen to find the hostel.

The river Liza is silent now we’re walking above her thrashing, autumnal water and as if in defeat she begins to diminish until a kissing gate tells us we have arrived at the top of the valley. The corner of a roof is just visible in the dip ahead. We stop and take a moment to enjoy the almost perfect crown of peaks bearing down on us. Great Gable remains under cloud cover – the moodiest of the Cumbrian fells and for that one of my favourites – but the green, marbled tops of the others are momentarily visible creating the impression of being in the bottom of a huge bowl. This feeling increases as we descend to Black Sail and duck into the open door, the next sheet of rain at our heels.

We enter a stark room of exposed brick, oddly matched chairs and a log burner that sits like a king toad opposite the door. An assortment of clothing has been draped over the ancient frame beside the fire and I notice a man wrapped around himself in an attempt to keep warm. “The kettle’s just boiled if you want tea.” His accent is Dutch. He inclines his head towards a doorway leading to a well-equipped kitchen and honesty cafe.

As we cradle scalding, enamel mugs with sleeved hands, waves of rain and fog drift past the open door offering us only glimpses of the fells but we can feel their weight through Black Sail’s damp walls. Even inside there’s no forgetting where we are. We’re at the end of the valley and the only way out is over the hills.

From the Clock Tower to the Beacon (Malvern Hill Series)

Bluebells (Flora & Fauna, Patterns in Nature Series)

Northhill 'Summer' (The Malvern Hill Series)

Beth lives in Malvern, a town built on the hills in Worcestershire. Surrounded by curving, flowing landscape at every turn, this ebb & flow is at the heart of her work.

Nature has a cathartic effect on Beth - a natural de-stresser in her life. Walking on the hills, in snow, sun, wind or rain, noticing the changing foliage, the awe inspiring view to the black mountains & the vast patchwork plains of the Severn valley, never fails to uplift & put her life into context. 

Beth's work focuses on the tranquility nature brings through minimal line - to capture that moment of 'happy' when you most need it.

Why linocuts? Because she enjoys the whole process of the medium, from initial sketch to simplifying the essence of flow & form, through to the slow & mindful carving of the lino. Each design is hand printed using water-based lightfast organic pigments onto Japanese Hosho paper. Its textured surface makes each print unique.

View more of Beth's designs by visiting her website.

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Beth's wonderful design work will be featured in issue 2 of the magazine. Pre-order your copy here.

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Nicola: You describe We Are Stardust as a greetings card shop where art and science collide.  Can you tell us the story behind the business, and how you blend both art and science in the work you do?

Agnes: "Every one of us is a memorial to long-dead stars. Every one of us was quite literally made in heaven.”

– Marcus Chown, The Magic Furnace

Many years ago when the universe was born stars exploded to make the elements of the earth. These elements are what make everything in the world.  They make you and me.  They make the sea, creatures big and small, the clouds and the stars. We are stardust is a celebration of how we are all connected to each other and the universe around us.

Albert Einstein once said, “The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination”. Art and science need us to use our imagination to gain a deeper understanding of nature and our place in the world. Art is a creative expression based on our experiences of the world. Science is our search to understand how the physical world works. In the words of Professor Brian Cox, “deeper understanding confers that most precious thing - wonder.” That is exactly what we are stardust hopes to inspire: a moment of wonder.

I have never sat comfortably within the sciences or arts. I’ve always been somewhere in between. As a child I used to imagine I was an explorer in a jungle. Gathering unusual animal specimens on mysterious tropical islands, or discovering ancient civilisations. I’d draw maps of my explorations and collect strange stones, shells and flowers. The boundaries between art and science weren’t there - it was all about exploring the world. We are stardust is a natural progression from my childhood imaginations.

I research, illustrate and design each card and print.  They are made for those with wild natures, sophisticated minds, and loyal hearts. Each design captures a fact, story or curiosity.  So when you post a we are stardust card to your loved one, you gift them with a moment of wonder for the natural world. I hope my cards and prints give you a way of sharing your curiosity for the world with your loved ones.

 We Are Stardust is guided by three values.  These values are wilderness, sophistication and loyalty.  Can you tell us how you incorporate them into the work you do.

I struggled to find the three core values for we are stardust.  I'm still not sure if I've got them exactly right.  Perhaps wilderness, learning and love would be better?  But I'll try and explain what I mean by each.

Wilderness:  We are stardust is for those who love adventures, exploring and discovering.  The cards and prints are created with respect and awe for the natural world.  Wilderness celebrates the wonders of nature, along with all the strange, dark and mysterious parts that come with it.

Sophistication:  We are stardust is for those who value beauty, knowledge and learning.  It's for people who love objects with style and substance. We are stardust designs are beautiful and capture a fact, story or curiosity.  This is done through art and science that inspires wonder for the natural world.

Loyalty:  We are stardust is for those who fiercely love their friends and family. The cards and prints have been created to be precious gifts to share with loved ones.  They have also been created to spark a connection with the natural world.

Where do you draw your inspiration? 

The Scientific Revolution saw early natural scientists adventure around the world.   It saw them collecting and naming strange new species and testing hypotheses. We are stardust is inspired by this exciting time of polymaths.  Star charts, anatomical etchings and botanical prints from this time are also a big inspiration.

Ideas come from many places.  It might be from a conversation with a family member, friend or colleague.  It might be from reading an interesting article. Or from looking at why nature is the way it is and wanting to learn more.  It might also be from a little sketch I did. I also have to think how the idea would work as a card or print. This is quite hard and I have produced a few cards that I like but then don’t do so well in my shop.

Once I have an idea, I sketch out rough designs to see if it could work. I then go about creating the illustration. These are inspired by old scientific etchings and drawings. I use ink, watercolour and paper to create the illustrations and work from life as much as possible.

At the same time I research the science behind the idea. I try to find the most reliable source possible. If I had the time and money I would look at the original scientific article to see what it says. Some are open access which is great, but many aren’t and some are so technical it would take too much time to digest. In these cases I rely on summaries in reliable science news outlets.  As well as University and Museum web pages. I love learning more about our fascinating world through this research.

Lastly I pull the illustration, the caption and research together as a final design on my computer. I try to keep the designs minimalist. Words aren’t my strong point so I find the captions hard. I love getting feedback on draft designs from the we are stardust online family (anyone that follows me via my Journal or on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram). They often come up with ideas that inspire the final design.

 We’d love to know where you live, what your workspace is like and what a typical working day looks like for you.

This year I went completely freelance. Until then I was employed as a science communication specialist during the day.  And I would spend my evenings and weekends working on we are stardust.  These days I try and work three days doing freelance science communication work.  Leaving two days of the week for working on we are stardust.  But sometimes this balance isn't achieved as often as I'd like!

I mostly work from home in a calm, warm little room filled with light. I live in St Albans in the UK.  I am surrounded by countryside.  But only 20 minutes from the metropolis of London.  This means I get the best of both worlds. 

I try to make sure I have a routine each morning. This includes breakfast followed by a swim or a walk.  I then work for a while before taking a little break around 11am. I then stop for lunch around 1pm. I like listening to podcasts for online creative during this time. In the afternoons I work from home before into St Albans to work in a café for the last couple of hours.

What the work is depends on if it’s a we are stardust day, or a science communication day. If it’s we are stardust day I like to spend the morning drawing or painting.  The rest of the day is spent sorting orders, updating my website, writing blogs and researching card ideas.

 How do you enjoy spending your downtime?  And I would personally love to know if you find it hard to switch off from work, or whether you are someone who can step away from it for a while?

I have too many hobbies! Which one I focus on seems to go in cycles. I love to walk and cycle in the countryside.  I also enjoy spending quality time with friends and family, usually over dinner.  Other hobbies include baking, knitting, drawing, painting, playing my violin, reading and dancing!

I go through phases with switching off from work. During good times I manage a balance between work and downtime and feel in control of how I spend my day. When things are bad, and I'm feeling overwhelmed, it's my sleep that suffers. I usually wake up around 3am and then don’t get back to sleep until about 6am.

I have tried a few techniques to manage feelings of overwhelm and stress. At 3am I do a gentle yoga practice, listen to guided sleep meditations and drink hot chocolate! Day-to-day I've started bullet journaling to help me keep on top of different clients’ needs.  As well as completing tasks to keep we are stardust running. I also need to have regular breaks from computer work that include exercise and fresh air. I have found going to a café for the last couple of hours of the day helpful.  It means when I arrive back home my workday is finished. I also enjoy the process of cooking as a way of switching my mind from work to the evening.

In the long term I'd like to get better at planning my workload for the next quarter at least.  That way I would know what I need to achieve and by when, and I can say no to projects that take me off in the wrong direction.

Can you tell us about the different collections We Are Stardust has and whether you have a favourite?

We are stardust has four collections:

· Anatomy - discover your inner beauty.
· Astronomy - journey through the heavens.
· Botany - step into the wilderness.
· Zoology - explore the animal kingdom.

It is so hard to have a favourite! I love all the strange animal stories – the lobsters and the beetles – but they aren’t always the best sellers. I enjoy painting and drawing plants.  So from that perspective the botany collection is a favourite.

I also think the body is amazing.  I am currently acutely aware of this as I'm pregnant and totally fascinated at how my body is able to grow a baby.  So I'm passionate about learning more about how our bodies work.  And I think it's important to celebrate them. 

The astronomy collection is a definite favourite. I have lots of new designs planned for it. I find painting the night sky a real challenge. It is humbling and inspiring to reflect that we are such a tiny part in this huge universe.

 I also know you have a Christmas card collection being launched soon and you have a special offer for our readers.  I’d love for you to tell us more. 

Yes! The new Christmas card collection celebrates the holly and the ivy. Holly and ivy have decorated houses in winter for thousands of years.  Their evergreen nature is seen as a magical property to keep evil spirits at bay. The meanings the Victorians and pagans gave each plant links to the way the plants grow in the wild.

For example, the Victorian meaning for holly was ‘foresight’.  The prickly leaves at the bottom protect it from grazing deer and cattle. Once it has reached above grazing height the leaves become smooth. It was used in wreaths to protect and wish good fortune upon friends and family in the year ahead.

The we are stardust Christmas cards are all about this link between plant meaning and the way it grows in the wild. I love how science and folklore often intertwine in this way. Painting both plants has made me see each of them differently.  The sculptural spikes of the holly and the delicate veins in the ivy are incredible.

I'm delighted to offer your readers a 15% discount on my Christmas card collection packs.  To redeem the discount enter CREATIVECOUNTRYSIDE1017 when you reach the checkout. 

Visit the website and redeem Agnes' very kind offer here, or follow we are stardust on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter.

Scotland is home to some of the most beautiful bodies of water in the United Kingdom.  Loch is Scottish Gaelic for Lake or Fjord. During my stay in Scotland, I had the privilege of walking alongside and camping on the shoreline of Loch Lomond.   Loch Lomond is one of 12 largest lochs in Scotland,  and it took me 2 days of walking the West Highland Way to get past it!

So far my, walk 1000 mile challenge has treated me to 750 miles of incredible beauty but I wasn’t expecting just how stunning and surreal Loch Lomond to be.

On a clear morning, the loch appeared glass- like reflecting smooth skies and tree covered hills. Later on, in the sunny afternoon, the winds picked up, causing the water to caress the shoreline, brushing against the pebbles and amplifying a ‘whooshing’ sound. As the evening arrived, a mist rose over the loch and only now and then would you catch a ripple from a fish swimming on the surface, reminding you, the loch’s still there.  

Ladies and gents, from the top of Conic Hill.  

After a long day of walking from Drymen to Rowardennan,  the woodlands open to a welcomed sight  -  Sallochy campsite where we could pitch our tents, rest our feet and tuck into some much-needed foods. Camping at Sollochy on the shoreline of Loch Lomond is tricky, you’ve to pick your spot carefully.  The ground was concrete in places and the small sections of loose gravel, ideal for tent pegs, were challenging to find in fading light. The now gentle lapping loch beckons you to dip your sore feet (flip-flops recommended), offering a few moments of icy relief.  I watched the red evening sky promise that tomorrow would be dry and sunny (and so it was!).  The pitch black night was soon here and so on went the head torches whilst we sipped our hot tea,  hoping that the clouds would pass so we could see the forecasted shooting stars.   We didn’t but we were treated to a few twinkles in the night sky and I imagined just how spectacular a starry sky here would be.

I went to sleep with an image of this lone tree in  my mind's eye. 

The next morning after breakfast, we continued the walk to Inverarnan. The terrain grew tougher and treacherous in parts but still the banks of Loch Lomond, now misty, kept me on the straight and narrow, as I scrambled around the cliff which was covered in trees, roots, sharp stones, ledges and waterfall crossings.   In the distance, I could hear small boats offering tourists,   history filled trips and on more than a few occasions, I wished they’d come and pick me up, so I too could enjoy the view from afar instead of being amongst it, struggling with my now sore foot and a heavy back-pack.

Beauty like this mustn't be taken for granted or overlooked,  and although I didn’t complete my entire journey due to injury,  I feel so fortunate to have witnessed one of the many amazing lochs in this magnificent country.

November is… crunching your feet on the first frost, hearty casseroles, being thankful, the flutterings of bright lights and bonfires, reading in front of a roaring fire and misty mornings.

Dates for your diary: Stir-up Sunday (26th). On the final Sunday of November tradition dictates that it's time to make your Christmas pudding, making sure to give everyone in the family a chance to stir the mixture and make a wish. Head over here for a foolproof recipe. 

Things to do at home and in the garden:

• Unearth your slow cooker and try this sausage and bean casserole, or go veggie and opt for this vegetable stew with dumplings.
• Plant some bulbs for the spring. Daffodils, snowdrops or tulips are easiest.
• Turn off the lights and burn a few beeswax candles instead.

Be creative: Although you can buy advent calendars for pennies, I always think it's much more exciting to make your own. My sister and I used to make each other a calendar each year, and would make little gifts for each day; it took us forever to construct but it gave us so much joy each December morning that it was completely worth it.

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