By the time you’ve reached this far down the path, you may already sense that there is something a little different about the way things are made here.
Over time, I came to realise that my artwork didn’t quite belong to any familiar tradition. It wasn’t just illustration, or watercolour, or storytelling. It was something quieter. Something that asked to be named.
WhisperWork is what I’ve begun to call it.
It is a way of painting that listens first. It begins not with a plan but with a pause—a kind of soft attunement to the imaginal world. Sometimes, the images arrive like echoes from some older place; at other times, they emerge slowly, like dawn on a hedge-rowed lane. This is not just art as expression, but art as reverence. A conversation with the unseen. A quiet collaboration with wonder.
Within the world of the Old Burrow, WhisperWork is said to have its roots in the ancient traditions of Eldhame. Much like the illuminators of old—those who painted tiny gold-leafed windows into the sacred—practitioners of WhisperWork create small, enchanted thresholds. Each piece is a kind of portal, offering the viewer a glimpse into the in-between: the misty hour before morning, the hush beneath the hedgerow, the story between stories.
I offer this name not to draw a boundary, but to invite recognition. Perhaps you, too, have longed for a gentler rhythm. Perhaps you know the magic of the quiet thing that calls without clamour.
If so, welcome. There’s a place for you here.
