Hi! I’m Lindsey Groves, an artist based in North Yorkshire, and I’ve always been a creator of some kind - experimenting and evolving through various different mediums over several years.

  • My background in art

    It all started with drawing

    I've always been fascinated by the way we see the world.

    As a teenager, I studied at Cleveland College of Art before going on to complete a Fine Art degree at Northumbria University, specialising in printmaking. I loved experimenting with different materials and processes, from etching and photolithography to large-scale installations. What interested me most wasn't creating perfect pictures, it was exploring ideas, looking more closely and discovering what could happen when you gave yourself permission to experiment.

    After graduating, I worked as a Graduate Fellow at Northumbria University, teaching a wide range of printmaking and drawing techniques before training as a secondary Design Technology teacher at Sunderland University.

    Those experiences gave me a strong foundation in both creating and teaching, and they've continued to shape the way I approach art today. Whether I'm painting my own work or leading a workshop, I'm just as interested in the creative process as I am in the finished piece.

  • Me in the present

    Learning to slow down

    Like many people, life gradually became busier.

    Teaching, family life and the everyday responsibilities of adulthood left less and less time for making art. Then during the Covid pandemic, when printmaking studios closed, I began painting at home instead.

    Something changed.

    Painting became less about producing finished work and more about the experience of creating. It gave me space to think differently, to switch off from the noise of everyday life and to become completely absorbed in what was in front of me.

    I realised that wasn't just something I enjoyed, it was something I needed.

Why do I create? 

Finding creativity again

The biggest lesson I've learned isn't really about art.

It's about paying attention.

Walking with my daughter, I started noticing the things I'd always hurried past: the light catching moss on a stone wall, the layers of greens in woodland, the tiny shadows inside ferns, the patterns in tree bark and wildflowers growing where nobody else seemed to look.

Those quiet moments completely changed how I paint.

They also changed how I teach.

Because creativity doesn't begin with talent.

It begins with noticing.

  • All the small things

    Process over perfection

    People often apologise before they come to one of my workshops.

    "I'm no good at art."

    "I can't even draw a straight line."

    "I haven't picked up a pencil since school."

    The truth is, none of that matters.

    My workshops aren't about producing identical paintings or copying every brushstroke. They're about helping people look differently, simplify what they see, experiment with materials and surprise themselves with what they're capable of.

    Some people leave with artwork they're proud to frame.

    Others leave having remembered what it feels like to become completely absorbed in something.

    Both are equally important.

  • Finding my piece of quiet

    Why I teach

    After more than a decade teaching Art and Design in secondary schools, I've realised that confidence is usually the biggest barrier to creativity.

    Not ability.

    Confidence.

    I've seen hundreds of people convince themselves they "can't do art" before discovering they absolutely can.

    That moment never gets old.

    Helping someone create something they genuinely didn't believe they could is one of the most rewarding parts of my job.

Composition at the core

My artwork

Alongside teaching, I continue to develop my own artwork inspired by the landscapes and quieter corners of North Yorkshire.

Whether I'm sketching in Saltburn, painting woodland paths or creating local scenes with pen and watercolour, I'm always drawn to places that encourage us to slow down and really look.

My work isn't about recording somewhere perfectly.

It's about capturing how it feels to be there.

  • Conscious thinking and reflection

    What I hope people take away

    Art doesn't have to become another thing you're trying to be good at.

    Sometimes it's simply an opportunity to pause.

    To play.

    To experiment without worrying whether it's right.

    To spend a couple of hours fully immersed in colour, marks and ideas, with no emails to answer or endless to-do list demanding your attention.

    That's why I paint.

    And that's why I teach.

    Because I genuinely believe everyone is more creative than they think—they just need the time, the space and the confidence to discover it.