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Anna Pugh
“The best joy in my garden is when it buzzes with bees and flies and lacewings and beetles..."
The painter Anna Pugh, born 1938, is admired as a colourist and storyteller. Her original paintings are highly sought after and are in private collections in Great Britain, Europe and North America.
In earlier days when she and her brother were released from their boarding school strait-jackets, they spent hours ‘butterflying, bonfiring and slopping about with jam jars and nets at the edge of the lake’. The enjoyable side of their life was spent outside and free. That liberty and enjoyment permeate her paintings.
Anna Pugh is inspired by the Sussex countryside where she lives, each changing season has its own fleeting panoramas. In turn the flourish of spring bluebells give way to summer roses, when the roses fade, autumn’s copper tones glow until frosts glisten under the rising winter sun. These transient moments invigorate Anna Pugh’s pictures.
“The best joy in my garden is when it buzzes with bees and flies and lacewings and beetles; when the marjoram is alive with things crawling and hopping and flying. I think insects are the stuff of life. I would love to know what invisible things the sparrows are picking up on the brick terrace in the sun.”
The painter Anna Pugh, born 1938, is admired as a colourist and storyteller. Her original paintings are highly sought after and are in private collections in Great Britain, Europe and North America.
In earlier days when she and her brother were released from their boarding school strait-jackets, they spent hours ‘butterflying, bonfiring and slopping about with jam jars and nets at the edge of the lake’. The enjoyable side of their life was spent outside and free. That liberty and enjoyment permeate her paintings.
Anna Pugh is inspired by the Sussex countryside where she lives, each changing season has its own fleeting panoramas. In turn the flourish of spring bluebells give way to summer roses, when the roses fade, autumn’s copper tones glow until frosts glisten under the rising winter sun. These transient moments invigorate Anna Pugh’s pictures.
“The best joy in my garden is when it buzzes with bees and flies and lacewings and beetles; when the marjoram is alive with things crawling and hopping and flying. I think insects are the stuff of life. I would love to know what invisible things the sparrows are picking up on the brick terrace in the sun.”