Artists Statement
I’m an animal and wildlife artist creating artwork that captures emotion, character and connection. Inspired by nature, lived experience and the quiet strength found in creativity, my work ranges from joyful animal portraits to art-led affirmation and creative healing pieces.
Through paint, colour and story, I create work that makes people feel seen — whether that’s through a smile, a moment of calm, or a reminder that love doesn’t end.
About Me
I’ve always drawn.
As a child, I was rarely without a pencil in my hand, but when it came to choosing a career, art didn’t seem like an option. Instead, a chance visit from an inspiring design tutor changed my direction — and at just 16, I found myself studying clothing design at Manchester Polytechnic.
By 19, I was a qualified clothing design technologist and launched straight into the fashion industry. I spent five years designing commercially — fast-paced, practical, and demanding. There was little room for expressive sketching; it was think, draw, pattern, make. My designs kept factories busy, but the pressure was constant, and creativity often came second to deadlines.
Alongside this, life was full — marriage, children, and learning how to balance work with family.
Eventually, I stepped away from the industry and began my own knitwear business. What started small grew into something vibrant and joyful. My husband joined me, we evolved into working with boiled wool, and suddenly the business took off. We travelled the country selling directly to the public, our stand known for its bold colour and warmth — a rainbow of choice where everyone could find something that felt like them.
Scotland called to us for years, and in 2018 we finally made the move north. Living surrounded by open land and wildlife quietly brought me back to what I’d always loved.
Art had never really left me.
I sketched with my grandchildren, painted for pleasure, and in 2019 my daughter gifted me proper art materials for Christmas — a gentle nudge that became a turning point. Taking part in a “30 faces in 30 days” challenge reminded me of something important:
I could still draw and more than that — I loved it.
Living amongst fields of livestock gave me endless willing models. Zoo visits with the grandchildren opened up a fascination with animals beyond my doorstep — watching how they move, interact, and connect. Photography became part of the process, capturing personality as much as form. We fed giraffes, sloths and elephants, and I became deeply aware that many of these animals survive today because of conservation and care. One day, I hope to see them properly — in the wild.
When the world slowed, I drew more.
And when life later changed in ways I never expected, art changed too.
Painting became more than observation — it became connection.
Today, I work as an animal and wildlife artist, creating original artwork, prints, and commissions that celebrate character, emotion, and spirit. Alongside this, I create Light Through the Shadows — a collection of art-led affirmation and creative healing card decks, videos, and gentle prompts born from love, loss, and learning how to carry both.
Some of my work is simply made to make you smile. Some of it is made to sit quietly beside you.
I believe art can hold what words cannot. That creativity can be both joyful and healing.
And that love doesn’t end — it just asks for a new place to live.
This is my time to be an artist.
And I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
— Chris
Light Through the Shadows
Why I Do This
Light Through the Shadows was born quietly, through love and loss.
Over time, art became my way of making sense of absence, identity, and learning how to live again.
I do this because I know grief. Not the tidy kind.
The raw, ugly cry of it. The kind that steals your breath and your sense of who you are.
The fear of a future you didn’t choose. The loss of identity — of us — and the terrifying question of who you are now.
I know what it’s like to force yourself to move. To leave the house because staying feels worse. To return to places once filled with shared laughter, now heavy with memory and pain. To take the smallest steps each day and call that survival.
I know how every morning can begin the same way — waking up and remembering again. As if the loss is new every single day.
I know the depth of the low. The place where you don’t want to be here alone anymore.
Where you ask to leave — and are not allowed to. Where somehow, against your will, you remain.
I know what it’s like to talk to new people, to join communities, and still feel like the outsider. To exist — but not truly live.
And I know the slow, quiet shift that comes later. The moment you begin to find strength you didn’t know you had. When you start to discover yourself as you — not us. When the edges soften, just enough to breathe.
Painting became my safe space. It filled the void when words failed. It gave my grief somewhere to rest and my love somewhere to go. And when I paint other souls — animals, stories, quiet guides —I keep something alive. Not just memory, but connection. Not just loss, but love that still wants to move.
That is why Light Through the Shadows exists.
Because I have been there. And because no one should have to walk that path alone.
I do this:
By painting, sharing honestly, and letting art hold what words can’t.
I created the affirmation Card decks, artwork, and YouTube videos that support people through grief.
When your ready you can see more :