Professionally, I work in creative community engagement and yet it’s only since becoming a mother that I am deepening my connection to my neighbourhood. Down the road is Broomfield Park where I enjoy walks with family and friends, having recently discovered the beautiful Broomfield Conservatory, restored via impressive community endeavour.
This painting shows an image from Grovelands Park, so central to my connection with the local community. Its significance emerged during the long weeks of Covid lockdown, when I walked the paths and watched it change as Spring changed to Summer. Here, we see the colours of water in late winter, after several weeks of rain.
This painting shows an image from Grovelands Park, so central to my connection with the local community. Its significance emerged during the long weeks of Covid lockdown, when I walked the paths and watched it change as Spring changed to Summer. Here, we see the colours of water in late winter, after several weeks of rain.
This piece is part of a series of paintings that explore the theme of love in its multiplicity. Loving another person and being loved goes hand in hand with vulnerability. Often the fear is that the more you reveal of yourself, the more potential there is to be hurt by the other person. By the same token though, the more you open up, the more of an opportunity gets created for the development of an intimate bond. The process of opening up is delicate, sensitive but (in the right presence, of course) rewarding and enriching. It creates closer connection.
This painting explores intimacy/connection through the domestic gaze, capturing a moment of vulnerability. By leaning into the viewer's space , the figure transforms a private moment to a shared experience.
This painting explores intimacy/connection through the domestic gaze, capturing a moment of vulnerability. By leaning into the viewer's space , the figure transforms a private moment to a shared experience.
These pieces focus on the idea that connection isn't just internal, but ancestral - People, nature and spirit, passing across generations.The way the lines splay out at the top and bottom mimics journeys in life, connecting people, spirit and nature together at various times from birth to death. Visually, the lines symbolise a root system, suggesting a connection that is grounded yet expansive. The central forms, combined with the white linework mimics both neural pathways and organic roots, creating a sense of origin and vitality.
This work is about connection, and the strange little languages we make to reach each other.
The pieces are hand painted porcelain iPhones, clay— one of the oldest materials humans have used to record information. We know ancient stories through clay tablets, so I’m treating the phone as a contemporary tablet: a place where jokes, desire, shame, temptation and misunderstanding are held.
The images loosely retell Adam and Eve, a story about the beginning of mankind, through memes.
I like the contradiction of that: one of our oldest stories, retold in one of our most instantly disposable languages, on objects made from a material that can last for thousands of years.
This work is about connection, and the strange little languages we make to reach each other.
The pieces are hand painted porcelain iPhones, clay— one of the oldest materials humans have used to record information. We know ancient stories through clay tablets, so I’m treating the phone as a contemporary tablet: a place where jokes, desire, shame, temptation and misunderstanding are held.
The images loosely retell Adam and Eve, a story about the beginning of mankind, through memes.
I like the contradiction of that: one of our oldest stories, retold in one of our most instantly disposable languages, on objects made from a material that can last for thousands of years.
My work centres on the leaf, as an island and network simultaneously: singular in form, yet inseparable from branch, trunk, forest, and climate.
Trees are an interconnected system. leaves regulate climate while alive; in falling, they continue to participate in cycles of insulation, carbon storage, and renewal. Nothing is wasted.
Since moving to Edmonton in 2021, the marshes have become a favourite destination. I love how the industrial edges of the city rubs up against the calm of the River Lea. This painting captures a winter morning when low, sharp light turned the dewy grass acid green.
Since moving to Edmonton in 2021, the marshes have become a favourite destination. I love how the industrial edges of the city rubs up against the calm of the River Lea. This painting captures a winter morning when low, sharp light turned the dewy grass acid green.
A mountain scene from Austria where I was born and raised
Fearless by Design explores connection through courage and intentional living. The work reflects the moment we choose who we are becoming, rather than who fear tells us we are. Each brave decision becomes a piece of a larger puzzle, gradually shaping our legacy and connecting our present actions to the future we create.
A button, a key, a worn token - each small thing becomes a point of connection: to a person, a place, a moment that might otherwise slip away. Keepsakes explore the objects we hold onto and the invisible threads they carry. This work considers our quiet compulsion to keep and how the things we gather form a web of memory that ties us to who we are and where we come from.
A button, a key, a worn token - each small thing becomes a point of connection: to a person, a place, a moment that might otherwise slip away. Keepsakes explore the objects we hold onto and the invisible threads they carry. This work considers our quiet compulsion to keep and how the things we gather form a web of memory that ties us to who we are and where we come from.
A simple, rented London garden, can bring connection to continents, to each other, and to history. This painting was painted when a couple spent their afternoon reading Hafez (a Persian poet from the 1300s). I was inspired by the relatability of the words - bring wine and I'll recall.
The interplay between the figures is centred around connection, with a closeness and shared secret between the viewer and artist. This painting also creates a moment of pause - where you stop, look, and uncover the relationship between the viewers - giving you a moment of connectiion and inner reflection.
The interplay between the figures is centred around connection, with a closeness and shared secret between the viewer and artist. This painting also creates a moment of pause - where you stop, look, and uncover the relationship between the viewers - giving you a moment of connectiion and inner reflection.
Figurative painting has always been the main area of my artistic exploration and interest. I aim for a more structured placid environment on my paintings, but I also try to contain and abstract schemata and lines. Colour variety is the field where I like to develop the most as I feel that this is one of the most essential means of an artist. My aim is to connect and balance traditional and contemporary elements in my work
Growing up in a country where light and shadow are so different and powerful to where I reside now, I always try to reveal the luminous 'side' of an artwork. Though, the London surroundings are inspiring my darkest colours such as grey and black and I'm still evolving their usage.
Conway Rec is a special place where people connect to nature and to eachother. I joined the local volunteer group to help maintain it for all to enjoy, from kids playing hopscotch, people playing tennis, to feeding the birds and walking their dogs.
Conway Rec is a special place where people connect to nature and to eachother. I joined the local volunteer group to help maintain it for all to enjoy, from kids playing hopscotch, people playing tennis, to feeding the birds and walking their dogs.
This artwork is my take on Carlo Dolci’s works of Madonna. It is a heavily cropped interpretation using ball point pen. This piece explores the theme of connection through emotion. The emotional narrative of this work is weighted and palpable, it draws the viewer into Madonna’s internal experience of faith, grief, love and acceptance. Here, connection is something felt rather than seen - held internally, and shared quietly between the subject and the viewer.
‘Growth’ explores the body as a permeable site where human and natural forces intertwine. Emerging branches and thorns embody pain, resilience, and transformation, suggesting connection through rupture. The work reflects how struggle fosters expansion, revealing identity extends beyond its vessel, rooting itself in cycles of endurance, vulnerability, and continual becoming.
‘Growth’ explores the body as a permeable site where human and natural forces intertwine. Emerging branches and thorns embody pain, resilience, and transformation, suggesting connection through rupture. The work reflects how struggle fosters expansion, revealing identity extends beyond its vessel, rooting itself in cycles of endurance, vulnerability, and continual becoming.
'Calathea' reflects the theme ‘Connection’ by exploring our connections with nature in our home environments. ‘Calathea’ began as I had this beautiful plant and immediately felt attracted to studying its vibrant leaves and wanted to capture the rich mark-making across the plant. The juxtaposition of the TV set-up and games consoles as a backdrop highlights the difficulties and disconnect in our digital world of connecting deeply with nature.
Unspoken connection - we are gifted respect, a remarkable bond, and lifelong friendship from the animals we care for. None of it should ever be taken for granted.
My artwork is a quilt..different sizes and coloured materials come together in a quilt..for me connection is how each piece in a quilt is connected to another piece irrespective of the pattern or colour..
My artwork is a quilt..different sizes and coloured materials come together in a quilt..for me connection is how each piece in a quilt is connected to another piece irrespective of the pattern or colour..
My mother is standing at dusk in her garden in North Wales several weeks after cardiosurgery. At the time she remarked how we can suddenly become uprooted and shaken by events outside of our control. A Pole living in the UK, she was thinking about the events in Ukraine.
My mother is standing at dusk in her garden in North Wales several weeks after cardiosurgery. At the time she remarked how we can suddenly become uprooted and shaken by events outside of our control. A Pole living in the UK, she was thinking about the events in Ukraine.
Connection' through the act of connecting each layer stitch by stitch but also in the symbolic sense of connecting to the world through sustainability upcycling, reusing and repurposing and connecting to history through the reclaiming of second hand fabric and giving it a new life.
In "The Reach," connection is found in the quiet, tactile layers of daily life. Through the simple act of extending a hand toward a sleeping companion, the piece explores the invisible threads between ourselves, our environments, and the gentle presence of those who share our space
In "The Reach," connection is found in the quiet, tactile layers of daily life. Through the simple act of extending a hand toward a sleeping companion, the piece explores the invisible threads between ourselves, our environments, and the gentle presence of those who share our space
In this digital piece, my daughter’s eyes reflect my parents, creating a layered dialogue of connection between past and present. The portrait meditates on family, memory, and the subtle threads that link those we love.
Flowers Connect with people through emotions, traditions, health, and survival. They help us express feelings, celebrate life events, improve mood, and provide food and medicine.
Flowers Connect with people through emotions, traditions, health, and survival. They help us express feelings, celebrate life events, improve mood, and provide food and medicine.
This costume wasn’t planned. It grew from fragments made over time, as materials and ideas found each other and refused to stay separate. Through making, I found a connection to the work as it slowly assembled itself into a figure with a life of its own.
This costume wasn’t planned. It grew from fragments made over time, as materials and ideas found each other and refused to stay separate. Through making, I found a connection to the work as it slowly assembled itself into a figure with a life of its own.
Gossip is a subject that always draws my attention, especially when I am anticipating what might be said between people or a group. Try recalling a moment of gossip between friends or a couple. I vividly picture the emotions unfolding, through gossiping there is also a connection which enables us to make a relationship more stronger.
In the spring of 2023—my first in the United Kingdom—a long-held dream began to germinate: the desire to make music and to belong to a musical community. Like seedlings breaking through the soil, this dream surfaced gently yet persistently. I came to understand that a dream takes form when it is tended with care, patience, and devotion.
Through learning music with Viento Suelto, a London-based gaita ensemble, and with Las Witchas Collective, a women’s collective from Abya Yala, I found spaces of profound connection. These communities welcomed me with generosity and warmth, teaching me that dreams do not grow in isolation. They expand through shared rhythm, collective breath, and mutual support. What begins as an individual longing becomes interwoven with the aspirations of others.
This tapestry emerges from that lived experience of connection—between people, territories, memory, and sound. Its title, Sueño Tejo (I Weave Dream), reflects on how what we think, feel, and yearn for begins as invisible roots within the mind, yet slowly takes shape in the garden of our dreams. Threads intertwine like relationships; patterns form like communities.
The work is both a personal affirmation and a collective offering: a reminder that when we nurture what our spirit calls for, we are never weaving alone.
In the spring of 2023—my first in the United Kingdom—a long-held dream began to germinate: the desire to make music and to belong to a musical community. Like seedlings breaking through the soil, this dream surfaced gently yet persistently. I came to understand that a dream takes form when it is tended with care, patience, and devotion.
Through learning music with Viento Suelto, a London-based gaita ensemble, and with Las Witchas Collective, a women’s collective from Abya Yala, I found spaces of profound connection. These communities welcomed me with generosity and warmth, teaching me that dreams do not grow in isolation. They expand through shared rhythm, collective breath, and mutual support. What begins as an individual longing becomes interwoven with the aspirations of others.
This tapestry emerges from that lived experience of connection—between people, territories, memory, and sound. Its title, Sueño Tejo (I Weave Dream), reflects on how what we think, feel, and yearn for begins as invisible roots within the mind, yet slowly takes shape in the garden of our dreams. Threads intertwine like relationships; patterns form like communities.
The work is both a personal affirmation and a collective offering: a reminder that when we nurture what our spirit calls for, we are never weaving alone.
This is an image of an elderly man, it could be your grandpa or mine. He is either looking back on his memories of home and love or going towards where he belongs. You decide...
‘Infinite’ is a celebration of the microscopic connections that are the foundation of our world.
Every body, organism, material and substance holds an entire universe of cells and atoms within it, binding it, and us, all together. Zooming in on these crucial connections reminds us both the fragility and infinity of the cycle of existence.
‘Infinite’ is a celebration of the microscopic connections that are the foundation of our world.
Every body, organism, material and substance holds an entire universe of cells and atoms within it, binding it, and us, all together. Zooming in on these crucial connections reminds us both the fragility and infinity of the cycle of existence.
This piece is inspired by prehistoric hand stencil paintings. They are some of humanity’s earliest artworks, and they say something fundamental about the human desire to create and leave our mark on the world. Despite all our differences, in knitting this design I felt a connection to this ancient artist.
Whitewebbs Park is under threat from development. Living in a city, our connection to nature is limited, so we must hold on to the precious spaces we have, not just for its beauty, it's how it heels us mentally.
Whitewebbs Park is under threat from development. Living in a city, our connection to nature is limited, so we must hold on to the precious spaces we have, not just for its beauty, it's how it heels us mentally.
My father was Pakistani, however as he passed away when I was young, I feel little connection to him or my Pakistani heritage. I’ve used a faded photograph of him sat, almost formally, hidden behind cutouts and framed like a miniature Mughal painting, with floral motifs painted in turmeric.
This painting began with a moment — a sunset so vivid I had to capture it. Looking out from my home, I photographed the sky as it blazed over the rooftops, then brought it to life on canvas. Painted from my own photograph, it’s a personal study in light, colour, and the quiet drama of an ordinary evening made extraordinary.
This painting began with a moment — a sunset so vivid I had to capture it. Looking out from my home, I photographed the sky as it blazed over the rooftops, then brought it to life on canvas. Painted from my own photograph, it’s a personal study in light, colour, and the quiet drama of an ordinary evening made extraordinary.
Although I have lived in Enfield all my life, it wasn’t until I began exploring locally with my children that I began to see it through fresh eyes. Making art of this has helped me to feel a connection to Enfield and appreciate its natural beauty throughout the seasons.
Created for the theme of Connection, Bound by Red explores the Red String Theory, the idea that invisible threads connect people destined to impact our lives. The hands represent my father, brother, best friend, and grandparents, showing how family and friendships remain deeply connected despite distance or challenges
Created for the theme of Connection, Bound by Red explores the Red String Theory, the idea that invisible threads connect people destined to impact our lives. The hands represent my father, brother, best friend, and grandparents, showing how family and friendships remain deeply connected despite distance or challenges
Speaking in tongues uses the leaves of Arum Maculatum. There is a native variety of this lily but it is commonly found in Enfield gardens as the result of introduction. Their tongue shaped leaves are presented here as a source of language that connects us despite our differences
In any relationship we have to find ways of explaining our own point of view while at the same time treasuring another person’s perspective. This often necessitates exploring different facets of any topic.
In any relationship we have to find ways of explaining our own point of view while at the same time treasuring another person’s perspective. This often necessitates exploring different facets of any topic.
In this Painting I have tried to express my childhood memory connected to swing in my village house back in India where I used to seat for hours and read. I have deep connection with my books, that is all I tried to express here.
The coat is a patchwork that depicts 35 different responses to our local area by group members; stitched pieces depict everything from urban foxes, allotments, street views to local landmarks
The coat is a patchwork that depicts 35 different responses to our local area by group members; stitched pieces depict everything from urban foxes, allotments, street views to local landmarks
Another picture inspired by the ration book in the Museum of Enfield and my box of odds and ends left by my parents. This one is my Dad returning from his ship, HMS Whirlwind, hugging me and to me perfectly captures the word ‘connection’ with a parents love.
A solitary structure drifts between land and void, rooted yet exposed. Earth’s textures hold it, but barely. This piece reflects our fragile place within nature—grounded, dependent, and quietly vulnerable, where even stillness carries tension between belonging and collapse.
A solitary structure drifts between land and void, rooted yet exposed. Earth’s textures hold it, but barely. This piece reflects our fragile place within nature—grounded, dependent, and quietly vulnerable, where even stillness carries tension between belonging and collapse.
Against a background of living between cultures, Rabiya Nagi’s painting practice draws on personal and collective memory as she investigates how the past shapes the present and how history repeats itself. These ideas manifest visually in her paintings, where layers of reference and reinterpretation blur the boundaries between memory and imagination.
Nagi works in large formats alongside smaller, cropped compositions that capture the more intimate and fragmented moments of remembering. Through her practice, she interrogates the act of seeing and challenges perception by constructing disconcerting visual stagings. These compositions, often unsettling, evoke an uncanny sense of dislocation infused with the surreal.
Drawing from the language of film, Nagi works from her own work-specific imagery and reimagines reference photographs. Her work is further informed by literature and art history, which she recontextualizes through a contemporary lens to reveal new ways of looking and remembering.
Nagi also explores other forms of expression, including moving image, text, and sculpture—all approached through the lens of painting.
Against a background of living between cultures, Rabiya Nagi’s painting practice draws on personal and collective memory as she investigates how the past shapes the present and how history repeats itself. These ideas manifest visually in her paintings, where layers of reference and reinterpretation blur the boundaries between memory and imagination.
Nagi works in large formats alongside smaller, cropped compositions that capture the more intimate and fragmented moments of remembering. Through her practice, she interrogates the act of seeing and challenges perception by constructing disconcerting visual stagings. These compositions, often unsettling, evoke an uncanny sense of dislocation infused with the surreal.
Drawing from the language of film, Nagi works from her own work-specific imagery and reimagines reference photographs. Her work is further informed by literature and art history, which she recontextualizes through a contemporary lens to reveal new ways of looking and remembering.
Nagi also explores other forms of expression, including moving image, text, and sculpture—all approached through the lens of painting.
I once walked past field after field of dead, drooping sunflowers. The sad image has always stayed with me and I’ve always seen it as I watch humans, heads down on their phones. I wanting to convey the feeling of sorrow for the connection we’ve lost with each other.
This portrait is a powerful bridge to my sister, made months after her death. I layered exerts from her retirement blog, outlining adventures with her dog Maple over her portrait. This collage seemed to burst out of me and its making was both therapeutic and painful. It transforms her words into a lasting connection.
I love looking out at nature and having it inside my house, although this orchid seems to be reaching outwards. I always love the vibrant yellow against the blue sky. This picture represents my domestic connection with the outside.
I love looking out at nature and having it inside my house, although this orchid seems to be reaching outwards. I always love the vibrant yellow against the blue sky. This picture represents my domestic connection with the outside.
This work is about the deep connection we have with our pets. My rescue greyhound gently watches me from the comfy sofa. No matter what I am doing and where I am in our home her gaze is upon me - calm, watchful and it fills me with a sense of peace. Of course, being a greyhound she is also mainly asleep!
But even then the connection is there as she senses when I’ve gone into another room to work and will soon wake from her slumber to join me.
The piece of textile is a handwoven design executed by a Jamdani weaver of Bangladesh. Woven and died entirely by hand it represents an incredible skill of weaving developed during Mughal times. It is synonymous with Bengal and Dhaka , my city of birth. A colonial connection of threads that brought me to the UK.
This piece is about our connexion to the land. I have used a naive style, to demonstrate the immaturity of our understanding of the earth we inhabit. This image show a home built on greenbelt land. No free growing plants or wildlife just 2 guardians - cat and dog. But although nature has been tamed, it is creeping back. The sky shows a lack of ctrol, weeds at the edge, and a sinister vibe. The plants at the boundary are creeping back and the weather is chaotic.
This piece is about our connexion to the land. I have used a naive style, to demonstrate the immaturity of our understanding of the earth we inhabit. This image show a home built on greenbelt land. No free growing plants or wildlife just 2 guardians - cat and dog. But although nature has been tamed, it is creeping back. The sky shows a lack of ctrol, weeds at the edge, and a sinister vibe. The plants at the boundary are creeping back and the weather is chaotic.
This is my interpretation of an antique Japanese woodblock print from ‘One Hundred Aspects of the Moon’ by Yoshitoshi Tsukioka.
Bathed in the pale glow of the Moon, a woman stands alone, unrolling a long scroll of letters. Her messy hair and vacant expression hint at a deep sorrow, her mind unravelling with each line she reads. The scene depicts a moment of emotional collapse - a haunting portrayal of madness born from longing and loss. The Moon, a symbol of beauty and melancholy throughout the series, watches silently above, mirroring her fragile state.
Yet even in her madness, there is an act of connection - the desperate reaching across time through words on paper, clinging to what the heart cannot release
The New River has old maps of Enfield collaged underneath the painting. I was wanting to explore the link between past and present. Whilst landscapes and communities change, there are elements that persist, linking us to both past and future. This was partly in response to the paintings hanging in the museum.
Both this piece and Chase Green: Now and Then are exploring this theme.
The New River has old maps of Enfield collaged underneath the painting. I was wanting to explore the link between past and present. Whilst landscapes and communities change, there are elements that persist, linking us to both past and future. This was partly in response to the paintings hanging in the museum.
Both this piece and Chase Green: Now and Then are exploring this theme.
I am constantly connected to nature through my work as a florist which travels through my hands as natural inspiration when I paint. The materials I use are the discarded seeds, seed heads, stalks, twigs and straw leftover from my work, which I imbue into the paint itself to create texture and movement.
Afternoon Nap explores the gentle space between sleep and wakefulness, where imagination and emotion quietly intertwine. The work reflects how moments of solitude can create unexpected connections within our inner world.
Afternoon Nap explores the gentle space between sleep and wakefulness, where imagination and emotion quietly intertwine. The work reflects how moments of solitude can create unexpected connections within our inner world.
Winnie Chan feels connected to nature when she goes on walks in her local park, Durants Park in Enfield. Being connected to nature uplifts her mental health and being amongst nature especially in springtime creates a sense of hope.
