Deborah Vass

"Sumer is icumen in" original linoprint The cuckoo she’s a pretty bird, She sings as she flies, She brings us glad tidings, And tells us...

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

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...

This weekend a new exhibition opens at Diss Corn Hall entitled An Arkful of Animals and I am delighted that a selection of my work has been

In my last post, I had made studies of these hedgerows plants and combined them into a preparatory drawing on the brink of its journey to...

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

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...

On a day when we remember those who gave so much, a poem by Edward Thomas who was killed in action on the 9th April, 1917, by a shell...

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...

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...