From Crab Apples to the Mall Galleries: How My First Botanical Artwork Changed Everything

CRAB APPLES – EVOLUTION TRILOGY

“People often ask me how I became a botanical artist — and when I started painting my own work rather than simply following exercises and tutor instructions

Looking back now, I can see that there was one small tree that quietly changed everything“

Learning The Language, Waiting For The Voice

For almost a year after beginning my botanical art studies, I painted what my tutors asked me to paint. I learned observation, composition, colour mixing and technique. Every exercise taught me something valuable.

Yet I still did not feel like an artist creating my own work. I was learning the language but had not yet found my own voice.

Then one day, early in spring, I left my house for a walk.

It was one of those gentle days when winter is beginning to loosen its grip. The air felt different. A promise of warmer days ahead.

The Crab Apple Tree

Near my home stood a crab apple tree that I had passed many times before. That day I stopped and looked more carefully.

The tree still carried several small apples from the previous autumn.

How had they survived the long cold winter? How had they escaped the hungry squirrels and birds?

There they were, hanging from a gnarled branch — bright and cheerful against the grey of early spring. Full of character. Almost joyful.

I took several reference photographs and went home.

Three Visits, Three Paintings

Soon afterwards I painted my first independent botanical artwork. Three crab apples on an old twisted branch.

At the time I did not realise it, but I was painting more than fruit. I was painting resilience. Those little apples had survived months of storms, frost and darkness.

A week later I returned to the tree.

The apples were still there but they looked slightly different. Time had continued its work. The fruits were ageing but the tree itself was beginning to awaken.

Tiny green buds were appearing along the branches. Life was returning.

I painted a second small picture — two apples accompanied by the first signs of spring growth. The story was continuing.

A few weeks later I visited once more.

This time only a handful of apples remained. Tired. Fragile. Their time was almost over.

Yet everywhere around them new life was emerging. Small green leaves were unfolding from the branches. Fresh growth was replacing what had come before.

Standing beneath that tree, I felt as though I was watching a lesson from nature itself.

Nothing remains the same. Everything changes. Everything moves through cycles of growth, decline and renewal.

The apples were disappearing but the tree was not dying. It was being reborn.

Crab Apples: Evolution Trilogy

Back in my studio, I painted the third and final piece.

When the three paintings were placed together they told a complete story. The first showed survival. The second showed transition. The third showed renewal.

I framed all three together in a triple frame and called the artwork Crab Apples: Evolution Trilogy.

For me it became much more than a botanical study. It became a reflection of life itself.

Everything in our world is cyclical. The Earth changes through the seasons. Plants grow, flower, fade and return. People experience loss, growth, change and new beginnings.

Rebirth is not an exception in nature. It is nature’s way.

Submitting To The Society Of Botanical Artists

At the time I could not have imagined where this small artwork would lead me.

One evening, shortly after framing the trilogy, I discovered that the Society of Botanical Artists was accepting submissions for Plantae 23.

I had never submitted artwork to a botanical exhibition before. The thought was both exciting and terrifying.

I decided to take a chance. Every journey begins with a first step.

The submission process seemed complicated at the time. I checked everything repeatedly — worried that I had uploaded something incorrectly, uncertain whether my work was good enough.

Eventually I pressed the submit button and waited.

Like many artists, I experienced moments of hope followed by moments of doubt.

Then one day an email arrived.

My artwork had been accepted.

For the first time, I felt that perhaps I truly belonged closer to the botanical art world.

I framed my first picture

An Unexpected Email – And The Mall Galleries

The story was not finished yet.

The day before the exhibition opening, another email arrived from the Society of Botanical Artists. They could not find my artwork.

Confused, I replied immediately, explaining that my work had only been accepted for the online exhibition.

A few minutes later came another email.

There was no online exhibition.

My artwork had actually been accepted into the physical Plantae 23 exhibition opening the very next day. If I moved quickly, I could still bring the painting.

I read the email several times.

Suddenly a thousand emotions arrived at once. Excitement. Pride. Disbelief. Nervousness. Happiness.

I barely slept that night.

The next morning I left home early, carrying my framed artwork. I arrived outside the Mall Galleries long before opening time. The doors were still closed. I could easily have stayed at home for another hour.

But there was no chance of that.

I simply stood there with my painting and waited.

The Mall Galleries

Standing On The Gallery Wall

When the gallery finally opened I received the warmest welcome.

The artists from the Society of Botanical Artists smiled as they greeted me — and immediately understood what had happened. Apparently every year there is a new funny story just before the exhibition opens. Mine was the online exhibition.

Their kindness helped calm my nerves.

Soon they found a beautiful place for Crab Apples: Evolution Trilogy.

Seeing my artwork hanging on the gallery wall was one of the proudest moments of my life.

For the first time I was exhibiting alongside artists whose work I had admired for years. I met wonderful people. I saw extraordinary paintings. Somehow, my own artwork was there among them.

I spent as much time as possible at the exhibition. I did not want to leave.

It felt like a beginning.

What The Little Tree Really Gave Me

Looking back now, I realise that the crab apple tree gave me much more than inspiration for a painting.

It gave me confidence.

It taught me to trust my own ideas. It showed me that meaningful stories can be found close to home, if we take the time to look carefully.

Most importantly, it marked the moment when I stopped simply learning botanical art and started becoming a botanical artist.

That exhibition was not my greatest achievement. It was something even more important.

It was my first victory.

And every artistic journey needs a first one.

But the story of Crab Apples: Evolution Trilogy did not end there. More interesting things happened to this small artwork — things I could not have predicted standing outside the Mall Galleries that morning with my painting under my arm.

That part of the story is coming soon.

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