Brook & Bramble Art

For a Friend

This one started out as a card. A stopgap, really. Something simple to tuck into an envelope so I wouldn’t turn up empty-handed.

I kept it deliberately pared back: two colours, plenty of space, very little detail. A branch, a suggestion of grasses, a sky that doesn’t try too hard to explain itself. It felt closer to a breath than a statement, which seemed appropriate. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone. I just wanted to make something to write a message on.

There’s a particular freedom in paintings that aren’t meant to last. You don’t second-guess every choice. You don’t polish the life out of them. You let the wash do what it wants, trust the paper, and stop before momentum turns into meddling. This one knew when to be finished long before I usually do.

What I didn’t expect was for it to outgrow its original purpose. She loved it. Loved it enough to frame it, which still feels faintly surreal given that it was never meant to survive beyond a birthday. I think that’s part of why it works. It wasn’t trying to be important. It was just honest.

This friend has a habit of doing that, seeing value before I do, nudging things gently into existence without making a fuss. She’s also the reason I finally built my new website, after years of circling the idea and finding reasons not to begin. A quiet push at exactly the right moment.

I owe her more than she probably realises.

Looking at this painting now, I see all of that folded into it. The restraint. The trust. The reminder that simple doesn’t mean small, and that things made with care, even casually, can land far more deeply than you intend.

Not bad for a replacement card.