Buying art for someone else can feel intimidating. You might find yourself asking things like ‘What if they don’t like it?’, ‘What if it doesn’t go with their decor?’ or ‘What if they never hang it?’. These are all reasonable concerns so I am here today to help you ask some more constructive questions that will help you to find the perfect piece for that special someone.

There are a number of factors to consider - the recipient’s tastes, what brings them joy and what they want their home to feel like. You might also consider whether they own their home as this may affect how they hang the artwork.

Here are some key questions to drop into conversation or ask yourself about that person.

• Where’s your happy place?

• How do you want to feel when you get home?

• What colours make you feel that emotion?

It usually starts with a flicker—a flash of colour in a garden I’m passing, the way morning light hits a windowsill, or a half-remembered dream that lingers into breakfast. Inspiration doesn’t often arrive with a grand announcement. For me, it sneaks in gently, asking to be noticed.

Some days, it’s rooted in nature: the curl of a fern, the bold confidence of a sunflower, or the hush of a misty coastline. Other times, it’s a memory—of childhood holidays, days trips, or conversations with a friend. Little moments, half-glimpsed and deeply felt, that quietly ask to be turned into ink and carved into lino.

I’ve learned to trust these sparks. To gather them like treasures. Because behind every print I make, there’s a story—stitched together from colour, curiosity, and the beautiful, ordinary magic of everyday life.

The short answer is that prices vary because it is dependent on the materials and hours of labour that go into each piece. The following guidelines set out how much it costs for these specific sizes with a particular number of layers, however I can offer more tailored information for specific sizing requests.

How limited are editions from The Peacock & The printmaker?

Where a print is identified as limited edition then there were between 2 and 20 made. Every product description tells you how many were printed in the edition. You can see the exact edition number in the bottom left corner of each print.

There’s something quietly magical about carving into Lino. It’s slow, tactile, and wonderfully imperfect. Every gouge is deliberate, every mark a decision you can't undo—and I love that.

I didn’t set out to become a printmaker. But over time, I realised I was craving something more grounded—something that pulled me out of screens and into my senses. Linocut offered that pause. It invited me to work with my hands again, to make a mess, to celebrate process over perfection.

I chose linocut because it gave me space to slow down, to play with colour and form in a way that felt joyful and honest. There’s a kind of magic in peeling back that first print, not knowing exactly what you’ll get. It’s a little like life—messy, surprising, and full of happy accidents.

Now, each print I create tells a story—of a place, a memory, a dream. It’s a way of capturing joy in layers of ink and paper, and sharing a moment of stillness in a fast-moving world.