Deborah Vass

A blog post about my love of the seed head of the wild flower Goat's Beard

How a change led to rediscovering poppies.

I had hoped to set forth this week, sketchbook in hand, to capture a pocket of the Waveney Valley that I have discovered just a couple of...

I didn’t intend for there to be a pause here, but then I didn’t expect what would happen in the months that followed. In the first...

I have always loved looking at other’s sketchbooks. One of my earliest art memories is seeing a page of Samuel Palmer’s sketchbook in my loc

Now the hedgerows are festooned with honeysuckle, generously draping itself over sapling trees and filling the pathways with its pale golden

Moths are the perfect, obliging models, who sleep during the day.  I take two or three into my studio to identify and draw, where they remai

My new exhibition at Penny Morrison Interiors of botanically inspired paintings that chart the flowers of Spring.

I have been beavering away these last few weeks and can now announce that a selection of my drawings and paintings are being shown at The...

The following article appeared on Painters Online, the online edition of "The Artist" magazine and thought it might be useful for someone...

To know fully even one field or one land is a lifetime's experience. In the world of poetic experience it is depth that counts, not...

I might appear that I have been a little tardy with blog posts over the summer, but the truth is I have found writing rather difficult....

The happy discovery of a tawny owl family in my garden, made me long to have the opportunity to observe owls more closely, but I was very...

Those of you who follow me on Instagram and Twitter will know that I am rather partial to moths. The hot, still summer days of the past...

To see a World in a Grain of Sand, And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand, And Eternity in an hour. Winter...

Woods I part the out thrusting branches and come in beneath the blessed and the blessing trees. Though I am silent there is singing...

I love winter. I love crisp, bright days, the low light of December and the tracings of branches across the sky; but this winter has been...

I love winter, but this January has been a particularly dark, damp and dreich month and I have found myself looking for signs of spring...

In sketching and thinking about trees, it has led me to remember with fondness the poem “Birches” by Robert Frost. This is a poem I have...

I suppose it was inevitable that I should follow on from making prints of birds to making pictures of trees. Although they have featured...