FAQs

Nature has fascinated me for as long as I can remember. Growing up in South Wales, much of my childhood was spent exploring coastlines, woodlands and the countryside with my family. From an early age, my parents nurtured a deep curiosity about the natural world, filling our home with books, stories and opportunities to get outdoors.

As I grew older, I became increasingly aware of the environmental challenges facing our planet — from biodiversity loss and species extinction to climate change and habitat destruction. It became clear to me that creativity could play a role in helping people connect more deeply with the natural world and the issues affecting it.

Today, whether I'm creating illustrations, papercut artworks, workshops or interactive experiences, much of my work is rooted in a simple belief: that people are more likely to care for what they feel connected to. My hope is that by creating moments of curiosity, wonder and connection, I can encourage others to notice, value and protect the extraordinary web of life that surrounds us.

My three brothers, hands down. One is a furniture maker, one a digital designer, and one a printmaker. Their crafts may be very different, but they're united by a shared curiosity, design thinking and meticulous attention to detail. Growing up, we filled sketchbooks and scrapbooks, shared ideas, and encouraged one another's creative projects. Thankfully, that hasn't changed much.

From an early age, our parents nurtured a deep appreciation of the natural world. Both doctors, they filled our home with scientific books, old medical instruments, nature journals and those iconic bright yellow National Geographics. Today, mum continues to inspire me through her oil paintings and sculptures. Although dad is no longer with us, his love of gardening, songbirds and the natural world continues to shape both my life and creative practice.

And then there's my partner, Julia Bethan. Through her paintings, illustrations and writing, she creates beautiful reflections on nature, creativity and everyday life. Her ability to find meaning and wonder in the ordinary continues to inspire me, and I'm grateful that we can share our creative journeys together. We approach illustration very differently — hers is expressive, tactile and wonderfully human; mine is often more minimal, geometric and graphic. Yet we both know when a piece feels true to itself, and find great joy in helping one another stay on our own creative paths.

Wild Wings of Hope is a collaborative project that combines papercraft, storytelling and interactive experiences to celebrate the remarkable migration of swallows and swifts between the UK and Africa.

The project grew from a deeply personal experience following the death of my dad, who nurtured my love of nature from an early age. On the anniversary of his passing, my family scattered his ashes in the garden. On that same day, the swallows returned from migration, offering a powerful symbol of hope, renewal and connection.

What began as a personal exploration of grief has since evolved into a multi-layered creative project developed in partnership with organisations including National Museums Scotland, St Columba's Hospice Care, RSPB Scotland and Butterfly Conservation.

Working alongside storytellers, educators and conservation organisations, the project explores themes of hope, belonging and connection through workshops, exhibitions and interactive experiences inspired by the natural world.

Find out more about the story behind the project in this short film.

Absolutely. I design and facilitate workshops for a wide range of audiences and settings, from funded outreach projects with schools, museums, healthcare settings and community groups to corporate team-building events, creative away days and nature-connection experiences for businesses and organisations.

Sessions often combine papercraft, storytelling and hands-on creativity, creating opportunities for reflection, conversation and meaningful connection with the natural world. Each workshop is tailored to the audience, setting and theme, with a particular focus on biodiversity, migration, conservation and wellbeing.

At its heart, ecotherapy explores the relationship between human wellbeing and the natural world, creating safe, grounded and mindful opportunities for people to reconnect with nature.

Through training in ecotherapy with the Ten Directions programme at Tariki Trust, alongside my own personal practice, it has become an important influence on my work in recent years, bringing together my creative practice and lifelong passion for wildlife.
My thinking has also been shaped by the teachings of Thich Nhat Hanh, Joanna Macy, and the wider fields of mindfulness, deep ecology and engaged activism.

Whether through workshops, storytelling or hands-on creative activities, I'm interested in how nature can support reflection, connection and a sense of belonging. Much of my work explores how creativity can help people engage more deeply with the natural world — particularly those who may have limited access to the outdoors due to age, illness or circumstance.

It's been a long journey — and an ongoing one. I've always been drawn to minimalism, with a simple goal: to capture the essence of a subject in as few shapes as possible.

My biggest advice? Don't force it. If you think you've found your style quickly, you probably haven't. Finding your artistic voice takes time. It comes from years of drawing, experimenting, borrowing ideas, making mistakes and returning to the drawing board.

Focus on the process, not the style. Eventually, you'll arrive at something that feels like you — a creative fingerprint that continues to evolve with time.

I generally like to turn to the old and unexpected and make an effort to turn away from Instagram, Pinterest, blogs etc. when in search of new ideas.

Places I find inspiration include natural history museums (you will find me browsing the skeletons and insect collections), old maps and cartography, entomology, National Geographic magazines, folklore tales and mythology, and any book by Robert MacFarlane.

And of course, getting out into nature - there is no better designer. Exploring coastlines with shells, seaweed, seabirds, sunsets and seaspray. Walking through woodlands of gnarly oaks, fungi, bluebells and songbirds. The micro-world of mosses and lichen. Growing vegetables in the allotment, nurturing seeds and watching them grow. Dig a fork into the soil and observe the worms and roots beneath the ground. Peel open a rotten branch to witness the scuttling hosts of beetles, worms and other mini-beasts. I often carry a camera when exploring these habitats as I love observing and documenting the macro world of nature through a lens.

And on those days when I'm feeling totally uninspired with nowhere to go, I'll watch this TED talk as a gentle reminder that "the universe has already written the poem that I was planning on writing."

I grew up by the sea with a deep love for marine life. Some of my favourite species include wide-eyed seals, kelp-wrapped otters, and seabirds such as puffins, gannets, fulmars and razorbills. I love watching porpoises off the Pembrokeshire coastline (preferably at sunset). Also humpback whales - I was lucky enough to glimpse these gentle ocean giants breaching whilst living and surfing on the coast of Vancouver Island.

Moving to land, I love red squirrels and mountain hares (especially when they turn white in the Winter) and the iconic ecosystem engineer of Britain, the beaver. Nighttime species are also wondrous. The hoot of a tawny owl. The flutter of a fox moth. The flap of a pipistrelle bat. I've had a deep fascination with insects since I was a child - particularly stag beetles, shield bugs, and moths (oak eggar moths and elephant hawkmoths are two of my favourite species). I have a soft spot for goldfinches, bullfinches, great spotted woodpeckers and, of course, the swallows that return to my family home each spring from Africa — the birds that would later inspire Wild Wings of Hope.

Spring time. Swallows. Bumblebees. Daytime flying moths. The Rewilding movement. Regenerative agriculture. Indigenous peoples defending indigenous lands. Kelp forests. Seaspray blowing off crashing waves. Engaged Buddhism. Female leadership. Pastel colours. Sprouting acorns. Red kites circling overhead. The vegan revolution. Mycelium networks. The rise in Marine Protected Areas (MPAs). The wonderous, magical CO2-sucking technology that is trees. Extinction Rebellion. Meeting individuals who have dedicated their lives to protecting people and the planet. Dogs when they smile. Foraging fungi. Finding unscathed feathers underfoot. The magic of composting (waste goes in, worm-filled soil comes out). Looking up at the stars on a crisp, clear night. Pink sunrises. Burning sunsets. Seeing individuals doing plastic pick-ups on the beach. Today's youth when taking to the streets in the name of their future planet.

Trawling. Shark finning. Poaching. An ocean of plastic. Coral bleaching. Industrial use of pesticides. Indigenous people driven from indigenous lands. Politics. Greenwashing. Magical tech thinking (technology alone is not going to get us out of this mess). Insect extinction. Illegal wildlife trade. White supremacy. Microplastics. The Social Dilemma. The destruction of the Amazon for agriculture which, in the words of E. O. Wilson, "...is like burning a Renaissance painting to cook a meal”.

After graduating in 2012, I spent several years working in branding and design agencies, honing my skills in visual storytelling. At the same time, I began a personal project called Animalia Daily, illustrating 100 animals in 100 days to reconnect with my love of nature.

In 2015, I shared the project with my brother James, who was exploring nature-inspired printmaking. Through our conversations, we became increasingly aware of the biodiversity crisis and began asking ourselves a simple question: How could we call ourselves wildlife artists if the species we loved were disappearing?

Combining our skills in illustration and printmaking, we created Under the Skin, an art-activism project using screenprints to raise awareness of species extinction and biodiversity loss.

What began as a side project between two brothers has since grown into an ongoing creative venture, collaborating with organisations including Sea Shepherd, Ol Pejeta and RSPB. It's been a humbling and rewarding journey, and one I'm grateful to share with my brother.

Alongside launching our creative venture of Under the Skin in 2015 (see the above question) I made the decision to dedicate all of my freelance work toward environmental projects and campaigns. In my eyes, all other issues are secondary if we don't have a healthy planet to live on. So I created a new folder on my laptop titled '100% for the planet'. I told myself that from that moment onwards, I had to try my best to land projects that would sit within that folder. Many of them were unpaid. Many of them never got finished. But after several years of chipping away I gradually got to the point where all of my work enquiries were in the realms of environmental conservation and I feel very fortunate to still be in this position today. I genuinely wouldn't want to do anything else. I love what I do and try to remind myself of this, everyday.

Absolutely! I've delivered talks, workshops and presentations for universities, museums, environmental organisations and businesses, sharing insights into visual storytelling, creativity, conservation and nature connection.

Recent talks and collaborations have included a circular economy presentation at Swansea Design Week, a live storytelling and conservation event with my brother at the Global Birdfair, and presentations on Wild Wings of Hope at Startup Summer Camp, St Columba's Hospice Care and the National Museum of Scotland.

Whether speaking to students, community groups or professional audiences, I enjoy sharing ideas, experiences and lessons learnt through my creative practice.