My first interview with Ruth Taylor took place under slightly unusual circumstances. She was in the middle of what turned out to be a three-day power cut. Living in the countryside, Ruth explained how this happens from time to time and how they’re always prepared with a generator and a log burner. Thankfully, this meant we could still enjoy a cup of tea on a cold December day as we sat comfortably next to a crackling fire.

I was introduced to Ruth by Jill, who featured in a previous article with Esther Pritchard. While Esther and Ruth’s artistic styles are noticeably different, I can see why Jill was drawn to both. Each artist captures the peaceful essence of the English countryside beautifully.

Before putting together this article, I decided to visit Ruth again. This time, it was a gloriously bright February day, and we were able to spend more time in her studio. When I first encountered Ruth’s work, both online and in person, I was surprised to learn that she uses oil paint. Typically, I associate oil painting with thick, buttery textures and opaque colours, or at least a finished look that appears ‘heavier’. Yet, at first glance, Ruth’s paintings could be mistaken for pastels, ink washes, or even watercolours. The soft, matte finish of her work is unusual for oil paints, but she has developed a technique of diluting her oils to create delicate, layered washes. This allows her to build up subtle textures and intricate designs, resulting in a uniquely soft and tactile effect. Her work has an elemental and organic graphic quality, but with an overall ‘lightness’.

When speaking with Ruth about her artistic journey, she described her early passion for textiles. This was her first creative medium, and after completing a Foundation in Eastbourne, she went on to study printed textiles at Farnham (now UCA). She told me how she would make velvet scarves from curtains, as well as cushions and quilts, following her love of colour and pattern. She sold her textile work alongside her day job but was soon met with the familiar reality of valuing handmade crafts.

It was soon after this that she inherited some oil paints, and her friend, fellow artist Fiona Millais, invited her to experiment in her studio. Ruth had visions of creating an oil painting of Venice but instead found herself painting East Sussex. A few months later, after spending one day a week in Fiona’s studio, she took part in Surrey Artist Open Studios, marking the beginning of her career as an artist.

Standing in Ruth’s studio, surrounded by her paintings, I couldn’t help but notice how they resembled a patchwork quilt. Her love of textiles, colour, and pattern is evident throughout her work. Despite the variety in her designs, all her pieces sit cohesively together as part of a larger collection.

Another reason for this ‘patchwork’ effect is perhaps the inspiration behind her work. Like many artists, Ruth is drawn to the landscapes around her, but her fascination extends beyond the visible scenery—she is deeply interested in archaeology and the aerial view of the land. The marks and shapes left behind by past civilisations influence her compositions, creating a visual tapestry reminiscent of the patterns seen from an aeroplane window.

In her studio, I found a book: Aerial Atlas of Ancient Britain by David R. Abram. Flipping through its pages, I was met with stunning aerial photographs showcasing Neolithic enclosures, cairns, stone circles, Bronze Age villages, farmsteads, tombs, burial mounds, and Iron Age hillforts. Looking back at Ruth’s paintings with this perspective, I gained a new appreciation for the layered designs and markings in her work.

It was fascinating to learn that Ruth once considered becoming an archaeologist. She told me she would have been perfectly happy using a toothbrush to carefully, methodically uncover remnants of a lost world.

This passion for the past extends beyond her paintings; Ruth also runs a French antique business, seeking out treasures to restore and sell. It dawned on me that Ruth’s work, both as an artist and an antique dealer, revolves around a continuous dialogue with history—bringing the past into the present.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this article, Ruth’s work captures the atmosphere of the English countryside in a way that feels quintessentially British. To me, her paintings evoke a sense of calm and quiet—a peaceful solitude that is difficult to put into words.

Her favourite season to paint is winter, and in these pieces especially, there is a deep stillness. They remind me of those crisp countryside walks where you can almost hear a pin drop. There’s a sense of being completely alone, yet at the same time, you know that a hidden world of mice, foxes, owls, and hares is quietly stirring just beyond sight.

There are a couple of paintings where she has used a darker palette that give a moonlight mood, these in particular remind me of childhood storybooks—those hushed moments before an adventure unfolds. I’m not entirely sure why Ruth’s paintings take me to this place, but her work feels rich with narrative, like a tale waiting to be told.

Of course, this is simply my personal response to her art.

Ruth herself paints intuitively, describing her process as “from head to limb to brush.” When I asked her about her creative method, she explained that it’s largely subconscious—she often paints while listening to football commentary. Referred to as a flow state, this almost meditative process allows an artist’s instincts to guide the work. For me, though, I love to dig deeper—to conduct my own little archaeological ‘excavation’ of an artist’s work. After this process, the paintings open up, revealing layers of meaning beyond surface aesthetics. I begin to see the artist’s influences, whether conscious or not, and I find myself learning about subjects I might never have explored otherwise. Ruth’s work is a perfect example of this: it invites you in with its beauty, but the more you look, the more stories it has to tell.

Ruth is based in Surrey. Find her online at…