There’s something really enjoyable about working with cold wax and oil paint on a landscape. It’s all about texture and surface, dragging a palette knife through those warm browns and ochres, softening the edges with a creamy mix of wax and pigment, and watching a horizon slowly appear on the taped square on the easel.

Last Vestiges is a project that was (and is) very close to me, and it came about almost by accident. Back in 2016 I found an old Polaroid (The Impossible Project)* I’d thrown away months earlier. It had been rained on, baked in the sun, attacked by mould, and half buried in the garden. When I picked it up again, it looked nothing like the picture I’d originally taken. The emulsion had blistered, scarred, and taken on these eerie textures. When I scanned it at high resolution, I suddenly saw strange new landscapes inside it, skies that reminded me of Turner paintings, folds like crumpled silk, and ghostly horizons. That discovery became the seed for 'Last Vestiges'.

Mish Aminoff is a London based photographer and interdisciplinary artist whose images do more than simply record they observe, reflect, and invite us into the everyday in one of the greatest citys in the world. 

I’ve been listening to Oliver Shaw’s new single ‘Take Me’ which was released on the 7th of September this year, and thought I’d share a few thoughts. It’s a short, three+ minute track, but it carries quite a punch for its size. Oliver has described it himself as a very personal song, and you can hear that straight away.  There’s a rawness to it that makes the emotion feel real, which is probably why it works so well. Writing songs of this length is an art in its self. Like short stories it needs to create interest right out of the box and retain the listeners interest, this single does exactly that. As allways Backed by the extremely competent Oliver Shaw Experience this will have you humming along to that vocal riff in no time.

I wanted to see if I could create a short ambient video piece quickly, using nothing more than my Iphone and a handful of apps. The challenge I set myself was to make both the music and the video in about an hour. It wasn’t about polish or perfection more about exploring, experimenting, and seeing what could happen when I put some limits on myself.

Smithy’s father had often whispered, in tones I dismissed then as rustic superstition, that the earth itself teems with hidden moralities that trees are not mere timber, but living conduits of forces benign or baleful, depending on the angle of the sun. Most dreadful of all, he spoke of houses how their stones drink the memories of their occupants, how the walls retain impressions of sorrow and malignancy.

Something of a new departure for me this acrylic, ink and graphite Landscape.When I created this painting, my goal wasn’t to document a specific scene or recognisable view. Instead, I wanted to work with the idea of atmosphere that shifting sense of light and landscape that feels at once real and imagined. I often begin without a strict plan, letting the paint and the surface suggest directions. In this case, I used acrylics and ink on paper, layering and scraping with a credit card, allowing earlier marks to remain visible even after new layers were added. That process leaves a kind of history on the surface. If you look closely, you can see scratches, faint lines, and areas where the underpainting peeks through, giving the sense that the piece has lived through several stages before arriving here.

When I was working on this 30x30cm piece, I wanted to create something that felt both raw and luminous. The first thing people usually notice is the large patch of white paint that glows out from the darker background. I like the way it sits slightly off centre, almost like light pushing its way through shadow. Around it, I’ve built layers of earthy browns, burnt oranges and hints of red, which add warmth and energy. Those colours remind me of rust, fire, or the textures of weathered stone, and I enjoy how they contrast against the cooler, darker areas.

Codex Hexapoda is an experimental piece where I’ve brought together acrylic paint, collage, asemic writing, gesso, and graphite on paper. I wanted it to feel like a page from a book that doesn’t exist, something part science, part imagination.

The bell above the door of Rooke’s Antiquarian Book shop gave a nervous jingle as Thomas stepped inside, brushing rain from his coat. The shop was narrow, dimly lit, and smelled of dry paper and long forgotten things. Wooden shelves climbed the walls like ribs in a derilect cathedral, and tucked between them were creaking ladders that no one seemed to use anymore.

When I was making this piece for the Form and Fracture series, I wanted to see what would happen if I put two very different energies on the same page, something solid and structured against something wild and unpredictable. The black ink is the most immediate thing you notice, it’s messy, splattered, and shoots out in all directions like it has a life of its own. I didn’t try to control it too much, I let the ink drip, run, and explode, because I wanted that sense of raw movement. In contrast, the red shapes are much more deliberate. They’re cut, collaged, and pressed into place, almost like building blocks or fragments of walls. They hold their shape, no matter what chaos happens around them.

A fragment of memory and landscape where structure meets trace.Collage and acrylic paint on #khadipaper This collage is 30x30cm, made with acrylic and collage on Indian handmade paper with deckle edges. I wanted the rough texture of the handmade paper to play a part in the atmosphere it gives a weathered, earthy quality, like old parchment. At the centre, I placed strong vertical shapes in black and red. The black carries white circular and linear markings, almost like coded symbols, while the red is more raw and painterly, adding energy. A smaller strip below anchors the forms, like a fragment of architecture.