Vision and Beauty: Part 2

The Search for Direction

     In 2015, I found myself at a crossroads. I was frustrated with the direction of my work — or, more accurately, the lack of one. What I was producing fell far below the standard I hold myself to. Worse, it said nothing about me. Something had to change.

     That change began with honest soul-searching. I needed a direction that aligned with my deepest aspirations — and allowed my authentic voice to emerge. I recalled my visit to Tate Britain in London, a decade earlier, standing before Burne-Jones’s King Cophetua And The Beggar Maid, and instinctively turned back to the book that had changed everything for me. ChristoWood’s The Pre-Raphaelites still held the answer I was searching for. I saw it clearly within its pages: the aesthetic I had long admired wasn’t something to study from a distance. It was the path I needed to walk.

     The time had come to stop waiting and start working toward embracing the Pre-Raphaelite aesthetic that had obsessed me for three decades. I knew it wouldn’t happen overnight, but I felt sure I was moving in the right direction for the first time in years.

     Over the next several years, I returned to the source, reacquainting myself with the Brotherhood’s origins and aims. I studied their work with new eyes. Slowly, I reached creative plateaus — real progress, not just repetition. For the first time, I could see that the work I wanted to create was possible.

     Then, in the summer of 2022, everything changed. I began reading Andrea Wolk Rager’s The Radical Vision of Edward Burne-Jones. Dr. Rager’s work provided what I’d been searching for all along: a blueprint. Her scholarship revealed that Burne-Jones’s aesthetic was never merely escapist eye candy. It was a vehicle for critique — a way to address environmental destruction, inequality, and capitalist consumerism through beauty.

Her book opened the door to the next phase of my journey.

Next: From Obsession to Practice

Vision and Beauty: Part 1

A Vision of Beauty: Discovering The Pre-Raphaelites

I had no idea I was stepping onto a forty-year path when I bought my copy of the illustration monograph The Studio at sixteen. That oversized tome felt like a sign on the road. While I admired all four of the artists featured, it was Barry Windsor-Smith’s Pre-Raphaelite-inspired work that caught my eye. His aesthetic was entirely new to me, as were the names he cited as influences: Dante Gabriel Rossetti, William Holman Hunt, John Everett Millais, Lord Leighton, and Edward Burne-Jones. I needed to know more.

When speaking about the moment that changed his life, Burne-Jones recalled the epiphany he experienced inside Beauvais Cathedral while traveling with William Morris through Northern France. In that singular moment, he knew his life’s direction. When I discovered Christopher Wood’s seminal book in 1984, I experienced a similar awakening. Its cover illustration — Burne-Jones’s The Mirror of Venus— enthralled me from first glance. That book expanded my limited understanding of what art could be, showing me the possibilities that open when you aspire to a higher purpose.

Beyond introducing me to the core members of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood and their followers, it led me to the artist who would become my guiding light: Edward Burne-Jones. My encounter with that book at eighteen planted a seed that would grow and mature over the next four decades. Despite all the ups and downs I have seen, the impression that book made on me has never faded. It’s never been far from me — always within arm’s reach. And it continues to inspire me. In those early years, I had no idea what the Pre-Raphaelites would ultimately mean in my life. But the path had begun.

Next: A Search for Direction; How The Pre-Raphaelites Saved My Work