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Jupigio-Artwork-Gallery
Rare - Unusual - Unforgettable
Sins and Virtues - Earlier Works
The House of Sin
The House of Sin is exactly what its name suggests: a decadent, crooked house where each of the Seven Deadly Sins has taken up residence.
At the very top sits Pride. Naturally, he has the penthouse. Looking down upon everyone below, his position within the house says almost everything that needs to be said about him.
Greed sits surrounded by his accumulated wares, Buddha-like in shape and looking thoroughly pleased with himself and everything he possesses.
Gluttony simply keeps eating. Discarded cartons, leftovers and flies gather around him, but nothing interrupts his endless consumption.
Sloth has no desire to move at all. He sits transfixed in front of the television, allowing life to pass him by. A card on the television tells us he is only 25, yet he appears considerably older, as though his inactivity has aged him beyond his years.
Wrath is caught destroying his room, while a smaller figure cowers fearfully in a neighbouring window. His rage doesn't affect only himself; somebody else is living with its consequences.
Lust sprawls in her room surrounded by discarded men, with the paraphernalia of her lifestyle scattered around her. I deliberately made her rather trampy — this was a cheeky and very literal interpretation of Lust.
And right at the bottom is Envy.
While Pride surveys everyone from the penthouse, Envy is buried in the basement. Thin, desperate and illuminated by an unhealthy green light, he looks upwards from the lowest point of the house at a world in which everybody appears to have more than he does.
Each window becomes its own little world, painted to reflect the sin living within it. But the decadence doesn't stop at the walls. Outside, the house is surrounded by lush, strange foliage, and even the trees themselves represent the sins.
Painted in 2006, this was my first exploration of the Seven Deadly Sins, and at this stage my interpretation was deliberately literal. I wasn't yet pulling apart these ancient ideas or asking the questions that would eventually lead to my later Seven Deadly Sins collection.
I simply gave each sin a room — and let them misbehave inside it.
At the very top sits Pride. Naturally, he has the penthouse. Looking down upon everyone below, his position within the house says almost everything that needs to be said about him.
Greed sits surrounded by his accumulated wares, Buddha-like in shape and looking thoroughly pleased with himself and everything he possesses.
Gluttony simply keeps eating. Discarded cartons, leftovers and flies gather around him, but nothing interrupts his endless consumption.
Sloth has no desire to move at all. He sits transfixed in front of the television, allowing life to pass him by. A card on the television tells us he is only 25, yet he appears considerably older, as though his inactivity has aged him beyond his years.
Wrath is caught destroying his room, while a smaller figure cowers fearfully in a neighbouring window. His rage doesn't affect only himself; somebody else is living with its consequences.
Lust sprawls in her room surrounded by discarded men, with the paraphernalia of her lifestyle scattered around her. I deliberately made her rather trampy — this was a cheeky and very literal interpretation of Lust.
And right at the bottom is Envy.
While Pride surveys everyone from the penthouse, Envy is buried in the basement. Thin, desperate and illuminated by an unhealthy green light, he looks upwards from the lowest point of the house at a world in which everybody appears to have more than he does.
Each window becomes its own little world, painted to reflect the sin living within it. But the decadence doesn't stop at the walls. Outside, the house is surrounded by lush, strange foliage, and even the trees themselves represent the sins.
Painted in 2006, this was my first exploration of the Seven Deadly Sins, and at this stage my interpretation was deliberately literal. I wasn't yet pulling apart these ancient ideas or asking the questions that would eventually lead to my later Seven Deadly Sins collection.
I simply gave each sin a room — and let them misbehave inside it.
The House of Virtue
The House of Virtue was created as the direct companion to The House of Sin, using the same formula but turning everything on its head.
Where Sin lives amongst decadence and lush vegetation, Virtue inhabits a much starker, more barren world. Inside each window, one of the Seven Heavenly Virtues plays out its role.
Temperance rocks in a chair wearing a straitjacket, his eyes slightly wild as he stares at all the things he desires laid out tantalisingly on the table beside him. Everything he wants is within sight, but Temperance is about restraint.
Patience is strapped to a chair while children run riot around her. She looks as though they are driving her completely mad, yet she must endure the chaos without losing control.
Kindness embraces those whom society would rather abandon. Her virtue is represented by accepting and holding close the people others might choose to turn away from.
Charity, wearing a crown, moves through the world dropping coins for underprivileged children in his wake. His elevated position means little unless something is given back to those with less.
Diligence keeps the house working. Sitting in a wheelchair, he turns the great cogs and machinery that allow water to flow through the building. His physical limitations don't prevent him from working or contributing to the lives of everyone around him.
Chastity sits upon a bed enclosed within a cage, its bars topped with phallic forms. Temptation surrounds her, but remains outside the boundary she has chosen.
And Humility is stripped of everything. Naked, with her arms extended before her, she has no possessions, finery or status to hide behind. She simply presents herself as she is.
The landscape surrounding the house is just as deliberate.
Unlike the lush, excessive growth surrounding The House of Sin, here I chose flowers and plants that are able to grow and survive in harsh conditions. They represent the virtues themselves: qualities that aren't necessarily born from comfort or abundance, but can endure and flourish despite adversity.
It makes the contrast between the two paintings much more interesting to me now.
Sin was given abundance. Virtue was given hardship.
And yet Virtue still grows.
Where Sin lives amongst decadence and lush vegetation, Virtue inhabits a much starker, more barren world. Inside each window, one of the Seven Heavenly Virtues plays out its role.
Temperance rocks in a chair wearing a straitjacket, his eyes slightly wild as he stares at all the things he desires laid out tantalisingly on the table beside him. Everything he wants is within sight, but Temperance is about restraint.
Patience is strapped to a chair while children run riot around her. She looks as though they are driving her completely mad, yet she must endure the chaos without losing control.
Kindness embraces those whom society would rather abandon. Her virtue is represented by accepting and holding close the people others might choose to turn away from.
Charity, wearing a crown, moves through the world dropping coins for underprivileged children in his wake. His elevated position means little unless something is given back to those with less.
Diligence keeps the house working. Sitting in a wheelchair, he turns the great cogs and machinery that allow water to flow through the building. His physical limitations don't prevent him from working or contributing to the lives of everyone around him.
Chastity sits upon a bed enclosed within a cage, its bars topped with phallic forms. Temptation surrounds her, but remains outside the boundary she has chosen.
And Humility is stripped of everything. Naked, with her arms extended before her, she has no possessions, finery or status to hide behind. She simply presents herself as she is.
The landscape surrounding the house is just as deliberate.
Unlike the lush, excessive growth surrounding The House of Sin, here I chose flowers and plants that are able to grow and survive in harsh conditions. They represent the virtues themselves: qualities that aren't necessarily born from comfort or abundance, but can endure and flourish despite adversity.
It makes the contrast between the two paintings much more interesting to me now.
Sin was given abundance. Virtue was given hardship.
And yet Virtue still grows.
The Carnival of Sin
With The Carnival of Sin, I took the Seven Deadly Sins out of their houses and sent them to the circus.
This was never intended to be terribly serious. It is playful, satirical, tongue-in-cheek and deliberately cheeky, using famous faces and elements of popular culture to turn each sin into its own carnival act.
The artwork is constructed as a jigsaw puzzle of seven individual panels. Each room takes on the colour traditionally associated with its sin, while a small Devil and a reference to that sin's traditional punishment are hidden somewhere within the composition.
At the centre of the carnival is the ringmaster, Imelda Marcos as Greed. Famous for her enormous shoe collection, she sits upon the merry-go-round surrounded by her beloved shoes, which have even been given their own ride. Meanwhile, the little children are relegated to the steps below. Her possessions have quite literally been given greater importance than people.
Tom Cruise becomes Pride, a circus juggler towering above the ground on exaggerated stilts. With impossibly long legs, he juggles planets above his head — my mischievous nod towards his association with Scientology.
For Envy, I turned to the trapeze and the very public comparisons between Lady Gaga and Madonna. Surrounded by mirrors, the two performers compete with one another, each seemingly trying to outdo the other. Reflection, comparison and rivalry become part of the act.
Paris Hilton is Sloth, transformed into my version of the Fiji Mermaid and reclining on a chaise longue. While everyone else performs around her, Sloth is perfectly content not to bother.
Naomi Campbell becomes Wrath, cast as the lion tamer. Her whip takes the form of a telephone, while the lion beside her looks decidedly frightened — a cheeky reference to the highly publicised incidents involving phones that surrounded her at the time.
For Gluttony, there could really only be one carnival clown. Elvis Presley bursts from a jack-in-the-box accompanied by two enormous sandwich-shaped balloons, referencing the famously extravagant sandwiches associated with his appetite.
And finally, Angelina Jolie becomes Lust, taking her place as the carnival fortune teller. Behind her, the tarot imagery contains a reference to one of her films with Brad Pitt, weaving celebrity romance, sexuality and popular culture into the fortune teller's world.
None of it was meant to be taken too solemnly.
These were celebrities filtered through the tabloid stories, public personas and cultural references surrounding them at the time, then exaggerated into caricatures and dropped into my rather unruly circus.
After the literal morality of The House of Sin and Virtue, I had discovered that the Seven Deadly Sins could also be something else:
They could be enormous fun to misbehave with.
This was never intended to be terribly serious. It is playful, satirical, tongue-in-cheek and deliberately cheeky, using famous faces and elements of popular culture to turn each sin into its own carnival act.
The artwork is constructed as a jigsaw puzzle of seven individual panels. Each room takes on the colour traditionally associated with its sin, while a small Devil and a reference to that sin's traditional punishment are hidden somewhere within the composition.
At the centre of the carnival is the ringmaster, Imelda Marcos as Greed. Famous for her enormous shoe collection, she sits upon the merry-go-round surrounded by her beloved shoes, which have even been given their own ride. Meanwhile, the little children are relegated to the steps below. Her possessions have quite literally been given greater importance than people.
Tom Cruise becomes Pride, a circus juggler towering above the ground on exaggerated stilts. With impossibly long legs, he juggles planets above his head — my mischievous nod towards his association with Scientology.
For Envy, I turned to the trapeze and the very public comparisons between Lady Gaga and Madonna. Surrounded by mirrors, the two performers compete with one another, each seemingly trying to outdo the other. Reflection, comparison and rivalry become part of the act.
Paris Hilton is Sloth, transformed into my version of the Fiji Mermaid and reclining on a chaise longue. While everyone else performs around her, Sloth is perfectly content not to bother.
Naomi Campbell becomes Wrath, cast as the lion tamer. Her whip takes the form of a telephone, while the lion beside her looks decidedly frightened — a cheeky reference to the highly publicised incidents involving phones that surrounded her at the time.
For Gluttony, there could really only be one carnival clown. Elvis Presley bursts from a jack-in-the-box accompanied by two enormous sandwich-shaped balloons, referencing the famously extravagant sandwiches associated with his appetite.
And finally, Angelina Jolie becomes Lust, taking her place as the carnival fortune teller. Behind her, the tarot imagery contains a reference to one of her films with Brad Pitt, weaving celebrity romance, sexuality and popular culture into the fortune teller's world.
None of it was meant to be taken too solemnly.
These were celebrities filtered through the tabloid stories, public personas and cultural references surrounding them at the time, then exaggerated into caricatures and dropped into my rather unruly circus.
After the literal morality of The House of Sin and Virtue, I had discovered that the Seven Deadly Sins could also be something else:
They could be enormous fun to misbehave with.
Gluttony – Contemporary Painting Exploring Desire and Excess
The Story
The Gluttony Fairy nestles comfortably within her eccentric mushroom throne, her iridescent wings shimmering as she devours one plump snail after another. Her eyes glisten with insatiable delight, each mouthful savoured without guilt or restraint. Hidden within the shadows, the Devil watches patiently, serpents coiled at his feet as he waits for her hunger to consume her completely.
He knows she will eventually follow her appetite into his kingdom, where an endless feast awaits—a grotesque banquet where indulgence becomes eternal torment.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive nature of excess.
The oversized mushroom offers comfort and temptation, its rich colours masking the danger beneath. Beside it, a dying tree bears glistening snails and ripe, heavy plums, suggesting that even abundance can flourish alongside decay. The luminous yellow and violet sky creates an almost dreamlike atmosphere, drawing the viewer into a world where beauty disguises corruption.
The Devil remains partially hidden, allowing the fairy to believe she is free, while his presence reminds us that every act of unchecked indulgence carries a consequence.
The Meaning
Gluttony is often misunderstood as simply overeating, but to me it speaks of something much broader.
It is the inability to recognise when enough is enough.
We live in a culture that constantly encourages us to consume more—more possessions, more wealth, more experiences, more entertainment. Satisfaction is fleeting because we are taught to chase the next desire before appreciating what we already have.
The Gluttony Fairy represents that endless hunger. She is captivated by immediate pleasure, unaware that every indulgence draws her closer to the Devil who waits with infinite temptation.
The painting asks a simple but uncomfortable question:
At what point does pleasure stop nourishing us and begin consuming us instead?
Behind the Painting (This is where your voice shines.)
When I painted Gluttony, I wasn't thinking solely about food. I was thinking about human nature.
Why is it that we always seem to want more?
More success. More approval. More possessions. More time. We convince ourselves that the next achievement or acquisition will finally satisfy us, yet contentment often slips further away.
This painting became my reflection on excess in all its forms and on the quiet danger of never recognising when we already have enough.
The Gluttony Fairy nestles comfortably within her eccentric mushroom throne, her iridescent wings shimmering as she devours one plump snail after another. Her eyes glisten with insatiable delight, each mouthful savoured without guilt or restraint. Hidden within the shadows, the Devil watches patiently, serpents coiled at his feet as he waits for her hunger to consume her completely.
He knows she will eventually follow her appetite into his kingdom, where an endless feast awaits—a grotesque banquet where indulgence becomes eternal torment.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive nature of excess.
The oversized mushroom offers comfort and temptation, its rich colours masking the danger beneath. Beside it, a dying tree bears glistening snails and ripe, heavy plums, suggesting that even abundance can flourish alongside decay. The luminous yellow and violet sky creates an almost dreamlike atmosphere, drawing the viewer into a world where beauty disguises corruption.
The Devil remains partially hidden, allowing the fairy to believe she is free, while his presence reminds us that every act of unchecked indulgence carries a consequence.
The Meaning
Gluttony is often misunderstood as simply overeating, but to me it speaks of something much broader.
It is the inability to recognise when enough is enough.
We live in a culture that constantly encourages us to consume more—more possessions, more wealth, more experiences, more entertainment. Satisfaction is fleeting because we are taught to chase the next desire before appreciating what we already have.
The Gluttony Fairy represents that endless hunger. She is captivated by immediate pleasure, unaware that every indulgence draws her closer to the Devil who waits with infinite temptation.
The painting asks a simple but uncomfortable question:
At what point does pleasure stop nourishing us and begin consuming us instead?
Behind the Painting (This is where your voice shines.)
When I painted Gluttony, I wasn't thinking solely about food. I was thinking about human nature.
Why is it that we always seem to want more?
More success. More approval. More possessions. More time. We convince ourselves that the next achievement or acquisition will finally satisfy us, yet contentment often slips further away.
This painting became my reflection on excess in all its forms and on the quiet danger of never recognising when we already have enough.
Dark Desire and Temptation: ‘The Seduction of Lust’ Contemporary Painting
The Story
The Lust Fairy reclines within an opalescent conch shell, her skin illuminated by the soft glow of her pearlescent sanctuary. She gently blows shimmering bubbles into the air, each one catching fragments of rainbow light before drifting away like whispered promises. Her smile is playful, her gaze captivating, and every movement invites the viewer to linger just a little longer.
Hidden beyond the glow of her delicate world, the Devil waits in silence.
Flames dance within his hand, casting an ominous red light across the darkness. He does not interrupt her enchantment or demand her attention. He simply watches, knowing that desire has a way of leading us exactly where it wishes. Patiently, he waits for the moment when fascination becomes surrender and the path to his fiery kingdom is chosen willingly.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive nature of temptation.
The opalescent conch shell suggests beauty, intimacy, and the allure of hidden treasures, while the vibrant turquoise flower beneath it offers a fragile foundation for such intoxicating desire. Floating bubbles become symbols of fantasy and fleeting pleasure—beautiful for a moment before disappearing without warning.
The Devil remains almost unnoticed within the shadows. His glowing embers contrast sharply with the fairy's cool, luminous world, reminding us that temptation rarely announces itself with menace. More often, it arrives clothed in beauty, fascination, and the promise of fulfilment.
The painting balances light against darkness, innocence against danger, creating a world where enchantment and destruction exist side by side.
The Meaning
Lust is often reduced to physical desire, but to me it reaches far beyond that.
Lust is the longing for what we believe will complete us. It is the pursuit of beauty, excitement, possession, power, or perfection. It is the moment when desire begins to cloud judgement, convincing us that fulfilment lies just beyond our reach if only we continue chasing it.
The bubbles drifting through the air embody these fleeting desires. They shimmer with possibility, yet vanish the moment they are grasped.
The Devil does not create the temptation.
He simply waits for desire to become powerful enough to lead us to him.
The painting asks:
When does longing stop inspiring us and begin controlling us?
Behind the Painting
When I began painting Lust, I wasn't interested in creating a story about seduction alone. I wanted to explore the irresistible pull of desire in all its forms.
There is something deeply human about longing for more—for affection, recognition, beauty, success, or experiences that seem just out of reach. Desire itself is not our enemy. It is what drives us to dream, to create, and to seek connection.
But desire becomes dangerous when it blinds us to consequence.
I wanted the fairy to appear completely immersed in her own beautiful world, unaware that darkness patiently surrounds her. The Devil never needs to force temptation upon her because the most powerful temptations are often the ones we willingly follow.
Perhaps that is what lust truly is.
Not simply wanting.
But believing that happiness always exists somewhere beyond the present moment.
The Lust Fairy reclines within an opalescent conch shell, her skin illuminated by the soft glow of her pearlescent sanctuary. She gently blows shimmering bubbles into the air, each one catching fragments of rainbow light before drifting away like whispered promises. Her smile is playful, her gaze captivating, and every movement invites the viewer to linger just a little longer.
Hidden beyond the glow of her delicate world, the Devil waits in silence.
Flames dance within his hand, casting an ominous red light across the darkness. He does not interrupt her enchantment or demand her attention. He simply watches, knowing that desire has a way of leading us exactly where it wishes. Patiently, he waits for the moment when fascination becomes surrender and the path to his fiery kingdom is chosen willingly.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive nature of temptation.
The opalescent conch shell suggests beauty, intimacy, and the allure of hidden treasures, while the vibrant turquoise flower beneath it offers a fragile foundation for such intoxicating desire. Floating bubbles become symbols of fantasy and fleeting pleasure—beautiful for a moment before disappearing without warning.
The Devil remains almost unnoticed within the shadows. His glowing embers contrast sharply with the fairy's cool, luminous world, reminding us that temptation rarely announces itself with menace. More often, it arrives clothed in beauty, fascination, and the promise of fulfilment.
The painting balances light against darkness, innocence against danger, creating a world where enchantment and destruction exist side by side.
The Meaning
Lust is often reduced to physical desire, but to me it reaches far beyond that.
Lust is the longing for what we believe will complete us. It is the pursuit of beauty, excitement, possession, power, or perfection. It is the moment when desire begins to cloud judgement, convincing us that fulfilment lies just beyond our reach if only we continue chasing it.
The bubbles drifting through the air embody these fleeting desires. They shimmer with possibility, yet vanish the moment they are grasped.
The Devil does not create the temptation.
He simply waits for desire to become powerful enough to lead us to him.
The painting asks:
When does longing stop inspiring us and begin controlling us?
Behind the Painting
When I began painting Lust, I wasn't interested in creating a story about seduction alone. I wanted to explore the irresistible pull of desire in all its forms.
There is something deeply human about longing for more—for affection, recognition, beauty, success, or experiences that seem just out of reach. Desire itself is not our enemy. It is what drives us to dream, to create, and to seek connection.
But desire becomes dangerous when it blinds us to consequence.
I wanted the fairy to appear completely immersed in her own beautiful world, unaware that darkness patiently surrounds her. The Devil never needs to force temptation upon her because the most powerful temptations are often the ones we willingly follow.
Perhaps that is what lust truly is.
Not simply wanting.
But believing that happiness always exists somewhere beyond the present moment.
Sloth – The Sedentary Life: Contemporary Painting of the Seven Deadly Sins
The Story
The Sloth Fairy reclines comfortably within her oversized seed pod, her delicate wings folded and heavy with indifference. A haze of smoke drifts lazily from her lips, curling through the still air as though time itself has slowed around her. She is perfectly content, untouched by urgency, oblivious to the vibrant garden bursting into life beyond her sanctuary.
Flowers bloom in radiant colour. Insects dance from blossom to blossom. The world continues to grow, flourish and evolve, yet she remains motionless, watching life unfold without ever becoming part of it.
Hidden amongst the shadows, the Devil waits.
A subtle smile crosses his face as serpents coil and writhe at his feet. He knows that he does not need to persuade her. Every moment surrendered to idleness quietly carries her closer to him. She is not being dragged towards darkness; she is simply allowing it to catch up.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the quiet danger of inaction.
The seed pod represents unrealised potential. A seed contains the promise of life, growth and transformation, yet it can remain dormant forever if it is never given the opportunity to flourish. It becomes both a place of comfort and a prison.
The smoke drifting through the air symbolises distraction and escapism, gently clouding awareness while time slips silently away. Around the fairy, the thriving garden celebrates the vitality of life itself, making her stillness all the more striking.
The Devil remains patient, surrounded by serpents that have long symbolised temptation, deceit and decay. His role is not to entice but to observe, knowing that neglect has a way of becoming its own punishment.
The Meaning
Sloth is often mistaken for laziness, but to me it is something far more subtle and far more dangerous.
It is the quiet surrender of possibility.
It is allowing fear, comfort, distraction or self-doubt to convince us that tomorrow will always be a better day to begin. It is watching opportunities pass while convincing ourselves that there is still plenty of time.
The tragedy of sloth is not that nothing happens.
It is that life continues without us.
The Sloth Fairy believes she has found peace, yet what surrounds her is not peace at all. It is stagnation. While the world blossoms with colour and movement, she remains rooted in stillness, unaware that every moment of inaction quietly shapes her future.
The painting asks:
How much of life do we miss while waiting for the perfect moment to begin?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Sloth, I found myself thinking less about laziness and more about the ways we slowly lose ourselves.
There are times when life feels overwhelming, and retreating into comfort can seem like the safest place to be. We distract ourselves, postpone difficult decisions, and tell ourselves that tomorrow will be different. Sometimes those tomorrows become months or even years.
I wanted the fairy to appear peaceful, because that is often how stagnation disguises itself. It rarely announces itself as failure. Instead, it whispers that there is no hurry, that there will always be another opportunity.
The Devil understands this.
He does not need to tempt the Sloth Fairy with riches or promises. He simply waits, because a life left unlived can become its own form of captivity.
To me, Sloth is not about judging those who pause or rest. Rest is essential. It is about recognising the difference between healing and hiding, between restoring ourselves and quietly allowing our potential to wither.
Sometimes the greatest risk is not making the wrong choice.
It is never making one at all.
The Sloth Fairy reclines comfortably within her oversized seed pod, her delicate wings folded and heavy with indifference. A haze of smoke drifts lazily from her lips, curling through the still air as though time itself has slowed around her. She is perfectly content, untouched by urgency, oblivious to the vibrant garden bursting into life beyond her sanctuary.
Flowers bloom in radiant colour. Insects dance from blossom to blossom. The world continues to grow, flourish and evolve, yet she remains motionless, watching life unfold without ever becoming part of it.
Hidden amongst the shadows, the Devil waits.
A subtle smile crosses his face as serpents coil and writhe at his feet. He knows that he does not need to persuade her. Every moment surrendered to idleness quietly carries her closer to him. She is not being dragged towards darkness; she is simply allowing it to catch up.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the quiet danger of inaction.
The seed pod represents unrealised potential. A seed contains the promise of life, growth and transformation, yet it can remain dormant forever if it is never given the opportunity to flourish. It becomes both a place of comfort and a prison.
The smoke drifting through the air symbolises distraction and escapism, gently clouding awareness while time slips silently away. Around the fairy, the thriving garden celebrates the vitality of life itself, making her stillness all the more striking.
The Devil remains patient, surrounded by serpents that have long symbolised temptation, deceit and decay. His role is not to entice but to observe, knowing that neglect has a way of becoming its own punishment.
The Meaning
Sloth is often mistaken for laziness, but to me it is something far more subtle and far more dangerous.
It is the quiet surrender of possibility.
It is allowing fear, comfort, distraction or self-doubt to convince us that tomorrow will always be a better day to begin. It is watching opportunities pass while convincing ourselves that there is still plenty of time.
The tragedy of sloth is not that nothing happens.
It is that life continues without us.
The Sloth Fairy believes she has found peace, yet what surrounds her is not peace at all. It is stagnation. While the world blossoms with colour and movement, she remains rooted in stillness, unaware that every moment of inaction quietly shapes her future.
The painting asks:
How much of life do we miss while waiting for the perfect moment to begin?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Sloth, I found myself thinking less about laziness and more about the ways we slowly lose ourselves.
There are times when life feels overwhelming, and retreating into comfort can seem like the safest place to be. We distract ourselves, postpone difficult decisions, and tell ourselves that tomorrow will be different. Sometimes those tomorrows become months or even years.
I wanted the fairy to appear peaceful, because that is often how stagnation disguises itself. It rarely announces itself as failure. Instead, it whispers that there is no hurry, that there will always be another opportunity.
The Devil understands this.
He does not need to tempt the Sloth Fairy with riches or promises. He simply waits, because a life left unlived can become its own form of captivity.
To me, Sloth is not about judging those who pause or rest. Rest is essential. It is about recognising the difference between healing and hiding, between restoring ourselves and quietly allowing our potential to wither.
Sometimes the greatest risk is not making the wrong choice.
It is never making one at all.
The Seven Deadly Sins Series: Greed – The Opulence – Original Contemporary Artwork by Julia
The Story
Perched upon a fractured pearl that glows beneath the silver light of the moon, the Greedy Little Fairy clutches her treasured golden spheres with unwavering devotion. Their polished surfaces shimmer hypnotically, reflecting the moonlight like precious stars fallen to earth. Hidden beneath the still waters below lies the rest of her hoard, carefully concealed where no one else can reach it.
To her, there is never enough.
No treasure is too great. No collection is ever complete. Every possession offers only a fleeting sense of satisfaction before another desire quietly takes its place.
Watching from the darkness, the Devil waits with quiet certainty. In his hand he holds a single drop of boiling oil—a forewarning of the torment that awaits those consumed by endless want. He does not need to steal her riches. He knows that greed has already imprisoned her long before she reaches his kingdom.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive illusion of possession.
The shattered pearl represents something once pure that has been fractured by obsession. Traditionally a symbol of wisdom, rarity and beauty, it now serves as a throne built upon broken values.
The golden spheres symbolise more than wealth alone. They represent every object of desire that promises fulfilment yet never truly satisfies. Hidden beneath the tranquil water, the fairy's unseen hoard suggests the secrets we accumulate—the possessions, ambitions and insecurities we protect in the hope they will define our worth.
The moonlight casts an enchanting glow across the scene, disguising the darkness that surrounds it. Meanwhile, the Devil remains patient, his drop of boiling oil recalling the punishments described in medieval visions of Hell, where greed ultimately consumes the soul that once sought to possess everything.
The Meaning
Greed is rarely about money alone.
It is the belief that happiness always lies in having just a little more.
More wealth.
More success.
More admiration.
More security.
Greed convinces us that fulfilment is always waiting beyond the next achievement or acquisition. Yet every desire fulfilled soon gives birth to another, leaving us trapped in a cycle where enough is never truly enough.
The Greedy Little Fairy is surrounded by beauty, yet she cannot appreciate it. Her attention remains fixed upon what she owns rather than what she already possesses in life.
The painting asks:
When does the desire to possess something become the thing that possesses us?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Greed, I found myself thinking about the world we have created.
We are constantly encouraged to chase more—more success, more possessions, more recognition, more influence. We celebrate accumulation as though it were the measure of a meaningful life, often forgetting to ask whether any of it truly brings contentment.
The fairy became a reflection of that endless pursuit. She believes her treasures offer safety, identity and happiness, yet every golden sphere she gathers quietly becomes another weight she must carry.
The Devil never needs to persuade her to choose greed.
He simply waits, knowing that an insatiable hunger eventually becomes its own punishment.
To me, Greed is not about condemning ambition or achievement. It is about questioning the moment when our desire to own more prevents us from recognising the richness that already surrounds us.
Sometimes the greatest poverty is not having too little.
It is never believing we have enough.
Perched upon a fractured pearl that glows beneath the silver light of the moon, the Greedy Little Fairy clutches her treasured golden spheres with unwavering devotion. Their polished surfaces shimmer hypnotically, reflecting the moonlight like precious stars fallen to earth. Hidden beneath the still waters below lies the rest of her hoard, carefully concealed where no one else can reach it.
To her, there is never enough.
No treasure is too great. No collection is ever complete. Every possession offers only a fleeting sense of satisfaction before another desire quietly takes its place.
Watching from the darkness, the Devil waits with quiet certainty. In his hand he holds a single drop of boiling oil—a forewarning of the torment that awaits those consumed by endless want. He does not need to steal her riches. He knows that greed has already imprisoned her long before she reaches his kingdom.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive illusion of possession.
The shattered pearl represents something once pure that has been fractured by obsession. Traditionally a symbol of wisdom, rarity and beauty, it now serves as a throne built upon broken values.
The golden spheres symbolise more than wealth alone. They represent every object of desire that promises fulfilment yet never truly satisfies. Hidden beneath the tranquil water, the fairy's unseen hoard suggests the secrets we accumulate—the possessions, ambitions and insecurities we protect in the hope they will define our worth.
The moonlight casts an enchanting glow across the scene, disguising the darkness that surrounds it. Meanwhile, the Devil remains patient, his drop of boiling oil recalling the punishments described in medieval visions of Hell, where greed ultimately consumes the soul that once sought to possess everything.
The Meaning
Greed is rarely about money alone.
It is the belief that happiness always lies in having just a little more.
More wealth.
More success.
More admiration.
More security.
Greed convinces us that fulfilment is always waiting beyond the next achievement or acquisition. Yet every desire fulfilled soon gives birth to another, leaving us trapped in a cycle where enough is never truly enough.
The Greedy Little Fairy is surrounded by beauty, yet she cannot appreciate it. Her attention remains fixed upon what she owns rather than what she already possesses in life.
The painting asks:
When does the desire to possess something become the thing that possesses us?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Greed, I found myself thinking about the world we have created.
We are constantly encouraged to chase more—more success, more possessions, more recognition, more influence. We celebrate accumulation as though it were the measure of a meaningful life, often forgetting to ask whether any of it truly brings contentment.
The fairy became a reflection of that endless pursuit. She believes her treasures offer safety, identity and happiness, yet every golden sphere she gathers quietly becomes another weight she must carry.
The Devil never needs to persuade her to choose greed.
He simply waits, knowing that an insatiable hunger eventually becomes its own punishment.
To me, Greed is not about condemning ambition or achievement. It is about questioning the moment when our desire to own more prevents us from recognising the richness that already surrounds us.
Sometimes the greatest poverty is not having too little.
It is never believing we have enough.
The Seven Deadly Sins Series: Envy – The Self-Absorption – Original Contemporary Artwork
The Story
Perched upon a low-hanging leaf, the Envy Fairy gazes upwards with quiet longing. High above her, another leaf basks effortlessly in warm sunlight, elevated above the forest canopy where it seems to receive all the light, admiration and beauty she believes she has been denied.
Her iridescent wings shimmer as they catch the light, yet she never notices their brilliance. Her eyes remain fixed on what belongs to another.
Far below, concealed within the shadows, the Devil watches with knowing satisfaction. A cruel smile spreads across his face as he holds an icicle within his hand, waiting patiently for envy to do what temptation alone never could. He understands that jealousy has a way of freezing the heart, replacing gratitude with resentment until all warmth is lost.
He does not need to whisper.
Comparison has already begun the work for him.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the quiet destruction of comparison.
The two leaves symbolise two different lives—one seemingly blessed with abundance and recognition, the other convinced it has been overlooked. Yet appearances can be deceptive. The higher leaf is seen only through the eyes of envy, which has a habit of magnifying the blessings of others while diminishing our own.
The surrounding woodland flourishes with life and colour, reminding us that beauty exists everywhere. Ironically, the Envy Fairy is surrounded by richness, yet she is unable to see it because her attention is consumed by what she lacks.
The Devil's icicle represents the emotional coldness that envy creates. It symbolises how bitterness can slowly freeze compassion, gratitude and joy, leaving only resentment in their place.
The Meaning
Envy is not simply wanting what someone else has.
It is believing that their happiness somehow diminishes our own.
There will always be someone who appears more successful, more beautiful, more talented or more fortunate. When we measure our worth against theirs, we begin to lose sight of our own journey.
Comparison steals perspective.
Instead of celebrating our own growth, we become trapped chasing someone else's life.
The Envy Fairy cannot appreciate the beauty of the leaf she already occupies because she is convinced fulfilment exists somewhere above her.
The painting asks:
How often do we overlook our own blessings while longing for someone else's?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Envy, I found myself reflecting on how easily comparison finds its way into our lives.
It is something we all experience. We compare our achievements, our appearance, our relationships, our careers, even our happiness. We convince ourselves that someone else's success somehow highlights our own shortcomings.
Yet envy is a distortion.
It encourages us to see only the brightest moments of another person's life while forgetting the struggles that remain hidden from view.
I wanted the fairy to appear captivated by something that seems just beyond her reach, unaware that she already occupies a world filled with beauty. The Devil understands that he does not need to create dissatisfaction. He simply allows comparison to grow until gratitude quietly disappears.
To me, Envy is not a warning against ambition. Ambition helps us grow. Envy begins when our desire to improve ourselves is replaced by the belief that our worth depends upon what someone else possesses.
Sometimes the greatest tragedy is not that we fail to reach the highest branch.
It is that we never notice the beauty of the one beneath our feet.
Perched upon a low-hanging leaf, the Envy Fairy gazes upwards with quiet longing. High above her, another leaf basks effortlessly in warm sunlight, elevated above the forest canopy where it seems to receive all the light, admiration and beauty she believes she has been denied.
Her iridescent wings shimmer as they catch the light, yet she never notices their brilliance. Her eyes remain fixed on what belongs to another.
Far below, concealed within the shadows, the Devil watches with knowing satisfaction. A cruel smile spreads across his face as he holds an icicle within his hand, waiting patiently for envy to do what temptation alone never could. He understands that jealousy has a way of freezing the heart, replacing gratitude with resentment until all warmth is lost.
He does not need to whisper.
Comparison has already begun the work for him.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the quiet destruction of comparison.
The two leaves symbolise two different lives—one seemingly blessed with abundance and recognition, the other convinced it has been overlooked. Yet appearances can be deceptive. The higher leaf is seen only through the eyes of envy, which has a habit of magnifying the blessings of others while diminishing our own.
The surrounding woodland flourishes with life and colour, reminding us that beauty exists everywhere. Ironically, the Envy Fairy is surrounded by richness, yet she is unable to see it because her attention is consumed by what she lacks.
The Devil's icicle represents the emotional coldness that envy creates. It symbolises how bitterness can slowly freeze compassion, gratitude and joy, leaving only resentment in their place.
The Meaning
Envy is not simply wanting what someone else has.
It is believing that their happiness somehow diminishes our own.
There will always be someone who appears more successful, more beautiful, more talented or more fortunate. When we measure our worth against theirs, we begin to lose sight of our own journey.
Comparison steals perspective.
Instead of celebrating our own growth, we become trapped chasing someone else's life.
The Envy Fairy cannot appreciate the beauty of the leaf she already occupies because she is convinced fulfilment exists somewhere above her.
The painting asks:
How often do we overlook our own blessings while longing for someone else's?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Envy, I found myself reflecting on how easily comparison finds its way into our lives.
It is something we all experience. We compare our achievements, our appearance, our relationships, our careers, even our happiness. We convince ourselves that someone else's success somehow highlights our own shortcomings.
Yet envy is a distortion.
It encourages us to see only the brightest moments of another person's life while forgetting the struggles that remain hidden from view.
I wanted the fairy to appear captivated by something that seems just beyond her reach, unaware that she already occupies a world filled with beauty. The Devil understands that he does not need to create dissatisfaction. He simply allows comparison to grow until gratitude quietly disappears.
To me, Envy is not a warning against ambition. Ambition helps us grow. Envy begins when our desire to improve ourselves is replaced by the belief that our worth depends upon what someone else possesses.
Sometimes the greatest tragedy is not that we fail to reach the highest branch.
It is that we never notice the beauty of the one beneath our feet.
The Seven Deadly Sins Series: Wrath – The Tempest – Original Contemporary Artwork by Julia
The Story
Hidden within the protective shell of a spiked conker, the Wrath Fairy waits.
Her wings vibrate with barely restrained energy, every feather echoing the storm gathering beneath the surface. Her eyes burn with fierce determination, fixed upon a world she is ready to confront. She is not consumed by a sudden outburst of anger; she is the culmination of countless moments left unresolved, each one adding another layer to the rage she carries.
The conker becomes both sanctuary and prison. It shields her from the world while quietly nurturing the fury within.
Below, concealed in the shadows, the Devil watches with quiet satisfaction. A wicked grin crosses his face as he grips a gleaming machete, knowing that wrath rarely destroys only its intended target. He understands that once anger is unleashed, it can become indiscriminate, leaving devastation in its wake.
He does not provoke her.
He simply waits for the moment she can no longer contain what has been building inside.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the destructive power of unresolved anger.
The spiked conker represents protection, resilience and defence, yet its sharp exterior also reflects the barriers we construct after being hurt. What begins as self-preservation can slowly become isolation, allowing anger to grow unseen within.
The fairy's vibrant wings pulse with energy, symbolising the emotional intensity of wrath. They suggest movement, release and the overwhelming force of emotions that have been held back for too long.
The Devil remains beneath her, holding a machete that represents the irreversible damage anger can inflict once it is allowed to take control. His presence reminds us that wrath often harms the person carrying it as much as those towards whom it is directed.
The painting balances explosive energy with unsettling stillness, capturing the final moment before everything changes.
The Meaning
Wrath is rarely born in a single moment.
It grows quietly.
It begins with hurt that goes unheard, injustice left unresolved, grief that cannot find an outlet, or wounds that are carried for far longer than anyone realises.
Left unspoken, these emotions gather strength until anger becomes the language through which pain finally speaks.
Wrath itself is not evil.
It can protect us, inspire change, and drive us to confront injustice. Yet when anger becomes our only voice, it has the power to consume everything around it, including ourselves.
The Wrath Fairy stands at the edge of that choice.
Will her anger become a force for change, or a force of destruction?
The painting asks:
At what point does anger stop protecting us and begin imprisoning us?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Wrath, I wasn't searching for anger.
I was searching for where anger begins.
Wrath has often been portrayed as an uncontrollable explosion, but I believe it is far more complex than that. Anger rarely appears without reason. It is often born from trauma, disappointment, fear, rejection or injustice. It grows in the places where pain has remained unheard.
As I explored this painting, I found myself searching the furthest corners of my own mind, asking difficult questions about the moments that shape us and the emotions we carry long after others have forgotten them.
Its opposing virtue is patience.
Not because patience suppresses anger, but because patience allows us the space to understand it before it controls us.
This painting became an exploration of that fragile balance between the two.
Perhaps wrath is not the beginning of the story.
Perhaps it is the final chapter of a much older wound.
That is the question I hope this painting leaves with every viewer.
Hidden within the protective shell of a spiked conker, the Wrath Fairy waits.
Her wings vibrate with barely restrained energy, every feather echoing the storm gathering beneath the surface. Her eyes burn with fierce determination, fixed upon a world she is ready to confront. She is not consumed by a sudden outburst of anger; she is the culmination of countless moments left unresolved, each one adding another layer to the rage she carries.
The conker becomes both sanctuary and prison. It shields her from the world while quietly nurturing the fury within.
Below, concealed in the shadows, the Devil watches with quiet satisfaction. A wicked grin crosses his face as he grips a gleaming machete, knowing that wrath rarely destroys only its intended target. He understands that once anger is unleashed, it can become indiscriminate, leaving devastation in its wake.
He does not provoke her.
He simply waits for the moment she can no longer contain what has been building inside.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the destructive power of unresolved anger.
The spiked conker represents protection, resilience and defence, yet its sharp exterior also reflects the barriers we construct after being hurt. What begins as self-preservation can slowly become isolation, allowing anger to grow unseen within.
The fairy's vibrant wings pulse with energy, symbolising the emotional intensity of wrath. They suggest movement, release and the overwhelming force of emotions that have been held back for too long.
The Devil remains beneath her, holding a machete that represents the irreversible damage anger can inflict once it is allowed to take control. His presence reminds us that wrath often harms the person carrying it as much as those towards whom it is directed.
The painting balances explosive energy with unsettling stillness, capturing the final moment before everything changes.
The Meaning
Wrath is rarely born in a single moment.
It grows quietly.
It begins with hurt that goes unheard, injustice left unresolved, grief that cannot find an outlet, or wounds that are carried for far longer than anyone realises.
Left unspoken, these emotions gather strength until anger becomes the language through which pain finally speaks.
Wrath itself is not evil.
It can protect us, inspire change, and drive us to confront injustice. Yet when anger becomes our only voice, it has the power to consume everything around it, including ourselves.
The Wrath Fairy stands at the edge of that choice.
Will her anger become a force for change, or a force of destruction?
The painting asks:
At what point does anger stop protecting us and begin imprisoning us?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Wrath, I wasn't searching for anger.
I was searching for where anger begins.
Wrath has often been portrayed as an uncontrollable explosion, but I believe it is far more complex than that. Anger rarely appears without reason. It is often born from trauma, disappointment, fear, rejection or injustice. It grows in the places where pain has remained unheard.
As I explored this painting, I found myself searching the furthest corners of my own mind, asking difficult questions about the moments that shape us and the emotions we carry long after others have forgotten them.
Its opposing virtue is patience.
Not because patience suppresses anger, but because patience allows us the space to understand it before it controls us.
This painting became an exploration of that fragile balance between the two.
Perhaps wrath is not the beginning of the story.
Perhaps it is the final chapter of a much older wound.
That is the question I hope this painting leaves with every viewer.
Pride – The Self-Centred Essence: Contemporary Painting of the Seven Deadly Sins
The Story
The Pride Fairy sits gracefully upon the magnificent blossom she has lovingly created, her iridescent wings catching the warmth of a radiant pink and amber sky. From her lofty perch she surveys the flourishing landscape below, her expression calm, confident and quietly satisfied.
Every petal has been carefully arranged. Every blossom has been chosen with intention. Her flower stands proudly above all others, not through chance, but through dedication, patience and care. It is her masterpiece.
Far below, hidden within the gathering shadows, the Devil watches.
He waits with knowing patience, convinced that admiration will one day become vanity, confidence will become superiority, and satisfaction will transform into arrogance. In his mind, he already sees the eternal wheel awaiting her, where the weight of pride will eventually demand its own reckoning.
He understands how easily self-belief can become self-importance.
Sometimes the greatest fall begins at the highest point.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the delicate boundary between confidence and conceit.
The magnificent flower symbolises achievement born through creativity, dedication and perseverance. It is not a gift but something cultivated with care, making the fairy's sense of accomplishment understandable.
The warm sky bathes the scene in light, creating an atmosphere of beauty and celebration, while the Devil's shadow introduces an uneasy tension that quietly questions whether admiration of our own achievements can slowly become an obsession with ourselves.
The contrast between light and darkness reminds us that pride is rarely obvious. It often begins as gratitude for what we have achieved before gradually convincing us that our achievements define our worth.
The Devil does not seek to destroy her accomplishments.
He simply waits for them to become the measure of her identity.
The Meaning
Pride is perhaps the most complicated of the Seven Deadly Sins.
Without pride, we would never celebrate our achievements, honour our hard work or recognise our own growth. Healthy pride gives us confidence, resilience and self-respect.
But pride changes when admiration for what we have accomplished becomes a belief that we stand above others.
It whispers that our success makes us more deserving.
That our voice matters more.
That our accomplishments define our value.
The Pride Fairy stands on the edge of that transformation. She has every reason to appreciate the beauty she has created, yet the painting asks whether appreciation can quietly become superiority if left unchecked.
The painting asks:
When does confidence stop inspiring us and begin separating us from others?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Pride, I found myself thinking about the fine line between confidence and arrogance.
As artists, we are encouraged to believe in our work. We spend countless hours learning, refining our skills and creating something deeply personal. There is nothing wrong with feeling proud of what we have achieved.
In fact, I think we should.
The danger begins when our identity becomes inseparable from our achievements. When we seek admiration more than meaning. When recognition becomes more important than the work itself.
I wanted the Pride Fairy to appear neither cruel nor boastful. Instead, she sits quietly within the beauty she has created, allowing the viewer to decide whether she is celebrating her accomplishments or becoming consumed by them.
The Devil understands that pride rarely arrives as arrogance.
It often begins with something far more innocent.
A moment of well-deserved satisfaction.
Perhaps the greatest challenge is not learning to take pride in ourselves.
Perhaps it is remembering that our worth has never depended upon standing above someone else.
The Pride Fairy sits gracefully upon the magnificent blossom she has lovingly created, her iridescent wings catching the warmth of a radiant pink and amber sky. From her lofty perch she surveys the flourishing landscape below, her expression calm, confident and quietly satisfied.
Every petal has been carefully arranged. Every blossom has been chosen with intention. Her flower stands proudly above all others, not through chance, but through dedication, patience and care. It is her masterpiece.
Far below, hidden within the gathering shadows, the Devil watches.
He waits with knowing patience, convinced that admiration will one day become vanity, confidence will become superiority, and satisfaction will transform into arrogance. In his mind, he already sees the eternal wheel awaiting her, where the weight of pride will eventually demand its own reckoning.
He understands how easily self-belief can become self-importance.
Sometimes the greatest fall begins at the highest point.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the delicate boundary between confidence and conceit.
The magnificent flower symbolises achievement born through creativity, dedication and perseverance. It is not a gift but something cultivated with care, making the fairy's sense of accomplishment understandable.
The warm sky bathes the scene in light, creating an atmosphere of beauty and celebration, while the Devil's shadow introduces an uneasy tension that quietly questions whether admiration of our own achievements can slowly become an obsession with ourselves.
The contrast between light and darkness reminds us that pride is rarely obvious. It often begins as gratitude for what we have achieved before gradually convincing us that our achievements define our worth.
The Devil does not seek to destroy her accomplishments.
He simply waits for them to become the measure of her identity.
The Meaning
Pride is perhaps the most complicated of the Seven Deadly Sins.
Without pride, we would never celebrate our achievements, honour our hard work or recognise our own growth. Healthy pride gives us confidence, resilience and self-respect.
But pride changes when admiration for what we have accomplished becomes a belief that we stand above others.
It whispers that our success makes us more deserving.
That our voice matters more.
That our accomplishments define our value.
The Pride Fairy stands on the edge of that transformation. She has every reason to appreciate the beauty she has created, yet the painting asks whether appreciation can quietly become superiority if left unchecked.
The painting asks:
When does confidence stop inspiring us and begin separating us from others?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Pride, I found myself thinking about the fine line between confidence and arrogance.
As artists, we are encouraged to believe in our work. We spend countless hours learning, refining our skills and creating something deeply personal. There is nothing wrong with feeling proud of what we have achieved.
In fact, I think we should.
The danger begins when our identity becomes inseparable from our achievements. When we seek admiration more than meaning. When recognition becomes more important than the work itself.
I wanted the Pride Fairy to appear neither cruel nor boastful. Instead, she sits quietly within the beauty she has created, allowing the viewer to decide whether she is celebrating her accomplishments or becoming consumed by them.
The Devil understands that pride rarely arrives as arrogance.
It often begins with something far more innocent.
A moment of well-deserved satisfaction.
Perhaps the greatest challenge is not learning to take pride in ourselves.
Perhaps it is remembering that our worth has never depended upon standing above someone else.
The House of Sin
The House of Sin is exactly what its name suggests: a decadent, crooked house where each of the Seven Deadly Sins has taken up residence.
At the very top sits Pride. Naturally, he has the penthouse. Looking down upon everyone below, his position within the house says almost everything that needs to be said about him.
Greed sits surrounded by his accumulated wares, Buddha-like in shape and looking thoroughly pleased with himself and everything he possesses.
Gluttony simply keeps eating. Discarded cartons, leftovers and flies gather around him, but nothing interrupts his endless consumption.
Sloth has no desire to move at all. He sits transfixed in front of the television, allowing life to pass him by. A card on the television tells us he is only 25, yet he appears considerably older, as though his inactivity has aged him beyond his years.
Wrath is caught destroying his room, while a smaller figure cowers fearfully in a neighbouring window. His rage doesn't affect only himself; somebody else is living with its consequences.
Lust sprawls in her room surrounded by discarded men, with the paraphernalia of her lifestyle scattered around her. I deliberately made her rather trampy — this was a cheeky and very literal interpretation of Lust.
And right at the bottom is Envy.
While Pride surveys everyone from the penthouse, Envy is buried in the basement. Thin, desperate and illuminated by an unhealthy green light, he looks upwards from the lowest point of the house at a world in which everybody appears to have more than he does.
Each window becomes its own little world, painted to reflect the sin living within it. But the decadence doesn't stop at the walls. Outside, the house is surrounded by lush, strange foliage, and even the trees themselves represent the sins.
Painted in 2006, this was my first exploration of the Seven Deadly Sins, and at this stage my interpretation was deliberately literal. I wasn't yet pulling apart these ancient ideas or asking the questions that would eventually lead to my later Seven Deadly Sins collection.
I simply gave each sin a room — and let them misbehave inside it.
At the very top sits Pride. Naturally, he has the penthouse. Looking down upon everyone below, his position within the house says almost everything that needs to be said about him.
Greed sits surrounded by his accumulated wares, Buddha-like in shape and looking thoroughly pleased with himself and everything he possesses.
Gluttony simply keeps eating. Discarded cartons, leftovers and flies gather around him, but nothing interrupts his endless consumption.
Sloth has no desire to move at all. He sits transfixed in front of the television, allowing life to pass him by. A card on the television tells us he is only 25, yet he appears considerably older, as though his inactivity has aged him beyond his years.
Wrath is caught destroying his room, while a smaller figure cowers fearfully in a neighbouring window. His rage doesn't affect only himself; somebody else is living with its consequences.
Lust sprawls in her room surrounded by discarded men, with the paraphernalia of her lifestyle scattered around her. I deliberately made her rather trampy — this was a cheeky and very literal interpretation of Lust.
And right at the bottom is Envy.
While Pride surveys everyone from the penthouse, Envy is buried in the basement. Thin, desperate and illuminated by an unhealthy green light, he looks upwards from the lowest point of the house at a world in which everybody appears to have more than he does.
Each window becomes its own little world, painted to reflect the sin living within it. But the decadence doesn't stop at the walls. Outside, the house is surrounded by lush, strange foliage, and even the trees themselves represent the sins.
Painted in 2006, this was my first exploration of the Seven Deadly Sins, and at this stage my interpretation was deliberately literal. I wasn't yet pulling apart these ancient ideas or asking the questions that would eventually lead to my later Seven Deadly Sins collection.
I simply gave each sin a room — and let them misbehave inside it.
The House of Virtue
The House of Virtue was created as the direct companion to The House of Sin, using the same formula but turning everything on its head.
Where Sin lives amongst decadence and lush vegetation, Virtue inhabits a much starker, more barren world. Inside each window, one of the Seven Heavenly Virtues plays out its role.
Temperance rocks in a chair wearing a straitjacket, his eyes slightly wild as he stares at all the things he desires laid out tantalisingly on the table beside him. Everything he wants is within sight, but Temperance is about restraint.
Patience is strapped to a chair while children run riot around her. She looks as though they are driving her completely mad, yet she must endure the chaos without losing control.
Kindness embraces those whom society would rather abandon. Her virtue is represented by accepting and holding close the people others might choose to turn away from.
Charity, wearing a crown, moves through the world dropping coins for underprivileged children in his wake. His elevated position means little unless something is given back to those with less.
Diligence keeps the house working. Sitting in a wheelchair, he turns the great cogs and machinery that allow water to flow through the building. His physical limitations don't prevent him from working or contributing to the lives of everyone around him.
Chastity sits upon a bed enclosed within a cage, its bars topped with phallic forms. Temptation surrounds her, but remains outside the boundary she has chosen.
And Humility is stripped of everything. Naked, with her arms extended before her, she has no possessions, finery or status to hide behind. She simply presents herself as she is.
The landscape surrounding the house is just as deliberate.
Unlike the lush, excessive growth surrounding The House of Sin, here I chose flowers and plants that are able to grow and survive in harsh conditions. They represent the virtues themselves: qualities that aren't necessarily born from comfort or abundance, but can endure and flourish despite adversity.
It makes the contrast between the two paintings much more interesting to me now.
Sin was given abundance. Virtue was given hardship.
And yet Virtue still grows.
Where Sin lives amongst decadence and lush vegetation, Virtue inhabits a much starker, more barren world. Inside each window, one of the Seven Heavenly Virtues plays out its role.
Temperance rocks in a chair wearing a straitjacket, his eyes slightly wild as he stares at all the things he desires laid out tantalisingly on the table beside him. Everything he wants is within sight, but Temperance is about restraint.
Patience is strapped to a chair while children run riot around her. She looks as though they are driving her completely mad, yet she must endure the chaos without losing control.
Kindness embraces those whom society would rather abandon. Her virtue is represented by accepting and holding close the people others might choose to turn away from.
Charity, wearing a crown, moves through the world dropping coins for underprivileged children in his wake. His elevated position means little unless something is given back to those with less.
Diligence keeps the house working. Sitting in a wheelchair, he turns the great cogs and machinery that allow water to flow through the building. His physical limitations don't prevent him from working or contributing to the lives of everyone around him.
Chastity sits upon a bed enclosed within a cage, its bars topped with phallic forms. Temptation surrounds her, but remains outside the boundary she has chosen.
And Humility is stripped of everything. Naked, with her arms extended before her, she has no possessions, finery or status to hide behind. She simply presents herself as she is.
The landscape surrounding the house is just as deliberate.
Unlike the lush, excessive growth surrounding The House of Sin, here I chose flowers and plants that are able to grow and survive in harsh conditions. They represent the virtues themselves: qualities that aren't necessarily born from comfort or abundance, but can endure and flourish despite adversity.
It makes the contrast between the two paintings much more interesting to me now.
Sin was given abundance. Virtue was given hardship.
And yet Virtue still grows.
The Carnival of Sin
With The Carnival of Sin, I took the Seven Deadly Sins out of their houses and sent them to the circus.
This was never intended to be terribly serious. It is playful, satirical, tongue-in-cheek and deliberately cheeky, using famous faces and elements of popular culture to turn each sin into its own carnival act.
The artwork is constructed as a jigsaw puzzle of seven individual panels. Each room takes on the colour traditionally associated with its sin, while a small Devil and a reference to that sin's traditional punishment are hidden somewhere within the composition.
At the centre of the carnival is the ringmaster, Imelda Marcos as Greed. Famous for her enormous shoe collection, she sits upon the merry-go-round surrounded by her beloved shoes, which have even been given their own ride. Meanwhile, the little children are relegated to the steps below. Her possessions have quite literally been given greater importance than people.
Tom Cruise becomes Pride, a circus juggler towering above the ground on exaggerated stilts. With impossibly long legs, he juggles planets above his head — my mischievous nod towards his association with Scientology.
For Envy, I turned to the trapeze and the very public comparisons between Lady Gaga and Madonna. Surrounded by mirrors, the two performers compete with one another, each seemingly trying to outdo the other. Reflection, comparison and rivalry become part of the act.
Paris Hilton is Sloth, transformed into my version of the Fiji Mermaid and reclining on a chaise longue. While everyone else performs around her, Sloth is perfectly content not to bother.
Naomi Campbell becomes Wrath, cast as the lion tamer. Her whip takes the form of a telephone, while the lion beside her looks decidedly frightened — a cheeky reference to the highly publicised incidents involving phones that surrounded her at the time.
For Gluttony, there could really only be one carnival clown. Elvis Presley bursts from a jack-in-the-box accompanied by two enormous sandwich-shaped balloons, referencing the famously extravagant sandwiches associated with his appetite.
And finally, Angelina Jolie becomes Lust, taking her place as the carnival fortune teller. Behind her, the tarot imagery contains a reference to one of her films with Brad Pitt, weaving celebrity romance, sexuality and popular culture into the fortune teller's world.
None of it was meant to be taken too solemnly.
These were celebrities filtered through the tabloid stories, public personas and cultural references surrounding them at the time, then exaggerated into caricatures and dropped into my rather unruly circus.
After the literal morality of The House of Sin and Virtue, I had discovered that the Seven Deadly Sins could also be something else:
They could be enormous fun to misbehave with.
This was never intended to be terribly serious. It is playful, satirical, tongue-in-cheek and deliberately cheeky, using famous faces and elements of popular culture to turn each sin into its own carnival act.
The artwork is constructed as a jigsaw puzzle of seven individual panels. Each room takes on the colour traditionally associated with its sin, while a small Devil and a reference to that sin's traditional punishment are hidden somewhere within the composition.
At the centre of the carnival is the ringmaster, Imelda Marcos as Greed. Famous for her enormous shoe collection, she sits upon the merry-go-round surrounded by her beloved shoes, which have even been given their own ride. Meanwhile, the little children are relegated to the steps below. Her possessions have quite literally been given greater importance than people.
Tom Cruise becomes Pride, a circus juggler towering above the ground on exaggerated stilts. With impossibly long legs, he juggles planets above his head — my mischievous nod towards his association with Scientology.
For Envy, I turned to the trapeze and the very public comparisons between Lady Gaga and Madonna. Surrounded by mirrors, the two performers compete with one another, each seemingly trying to outdo the other. Reflection, comparison and rivalry become part of the act.
Paris Hilton is Sloth, transformed into my version of the Fiji Mermaid and reclining on a chaise longue. While everyone else performs around her, Sloth is perfectly content not to bother.
Naomi Campbell becomes Wrath, cast as the lion tamer. Her whip takes the form of a telephone, while the lion beside her looks decidedly frightened — a cheeky reference to the highly publicised incidents involving phones that surrounded her at the time.
For Gluttony, there could really only be one carnival clown. Elvis Presley bursts from a jack-in-the-box accompanied by two enormous sandwich-shaped balloons, referencing the famously extravagant sandwiches associated with his appetite.
And finally, Angelina Jolie becomes Lust, taking her place as the carnival fortune teller. Behind her, the tarot imagery contains a reference to one of her films with Brad Pitt, weaving celebrity romance, sexuality and popular culture into the fortune teller's world.
None of it was meant to be taken too solemnly.
These were celebrities filtered through the tabloid stories, public personas and cultural references surrounding them at the time, then exaggerated into caricatures and dropped into my rather unruly circus.
After the literal morality of The House of Sin and Virtue, I had discovered that the Seven Deadly Sins could also be something else:
They could be enormous fun to misbehave with.
Gluttony – Contemporary Painting Exploring Desire and Excess
The Story
The Gluttony Fairy nestles comfortably within her eccentric mushroom throne, her iridescent wings shimmering as she devours one plump snail after another. Her eyes glisten with insatiable delight, each mouthful savoured without guilt or restraint. Hidden within the shadows, the Devil watches patiently, serpents coiled at his feet as he waits for her hunger to consume her completely.
He knows she will eventually follow her appetite into his kingdom, where an endless feast awaits—a grotesque banquet where indulgence becomes eternal torment.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive nature of excess.
The oversized mushroom offers comfort and temptation, its rich colours masking the danger beneath. Beside it, a dying tree bears glistening snails and ripe, heavy plums, suggesting that even abundance can flourish alongside decay. The luminous yellow and violet sky creates an almost dreamlike atmosphere, drawing the viewer into a world where beauty disguises corruption.
The Devil remains partially hidden, allowing the fairy to believe she is free, while his presence reminds us that every act of unchecked indulgence carries a consequence.
The Meaning
Gluttony is often misunderstood as simply overeating, but to me it speaks of something much broader.
It is the inability to recognise when enough is enough.
We live in a culture that constantly encourages us to consume more—more possessions, more wealth, more experiences, more entertainment. Satisfaction is fleeting because we are taught to chase the next desire before appreciating what we already have.
The Gluttony Fairy represents that endless hunger. She is captivated by immediate pleasure, unaware that every indulgence draws her closer to the Devil who waits with infinite temptation.
The painting asks a simple but uncomfortable question:
At what point does pleasure stop nourishing us and begin consuming us instead?
Behind the Painting (This is where your voice shines.)
When I painted Gluttony, I wasn't thinking solely about food. I was thinking about human nature.
Why is it that we always seem to want more?
More success. More approval. More possessions. More time. We convince ourselves that the next achievement or acquisition will finally satisfy us, yet contentment often slips further away.
This painting became my reflection on excess in all its forms and on the quiet danger of never recognising when we already have enough.
The Gluttony Fairy nestles comfortably within her eccentric mushroom throne, her iridescent wings shimmering as she devours one plump snail after another. Her eyes glisten with insatiable delight, each mouthful savoured without guilt or restraint. Hidden within the shadows, the Devil watches patiently, serpents coiled at his feet as he waits for her hunger to consume her completely.
He knows she will eventually follow her appetite into his kingdom, where an endless feast awaits—a grotesque banquet where indulgence becomes eternal torment.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive nature of excess.
The oversized mushroom offers comfort and temptation, its rich colours masking the danger beneath. Beside it, a dying tree bears glistening snails and ripe, heavy plums, suggesting that even abundance can flourish alongside decay. The luminous yellow and violet sky creates an almost dreamlike atmosphere, drawing the viewer into a world where beauty disguises corruption.
The Devil remains partially hidden, allowing the fairy to believe she is free, while his presence reminds us that every act of unchecked indulgence carries a consequence.
The Meaning
Gluttony is often misunderstood as simply overeating, but to me it speaks of something much broader.
It is the inability to recognise when enough is enough.
We live in a culture that constantly encourages us to consume more—more possessions, more wealth, more experiences, more entertainment. Satisfaction is fleeting because we are taught to chase the next desire before appreciating what we already have.
The Gluttony Fairy represents that endless hunger. She is captivated by immediate pleasure, unaware that every indulgence draws her closer to the Devil who waits with infinite temptation.
The painting asks a simple but uncomfortable question:
At what point does pleasure stop nourishing us and begin consuming us instead?
Behind the Painting (This is where your voice shines.)
When I painted Gluttony, I wasn't thinking solely about food. I was thinking about human nature.
Why is it that we always seem to want more?
More success. More approval. More possessions. More time. We convince ourselves that the next achievement or acquisition will finally satisfy us, yet contentment often slips further away.
This painting became my reflection on excess in all its forms and on the quiet danger of never recognising when we already have enough.
Dark Desire and Temptation: ‘The Seduction of Lust’ Contemporary Painting
The Story
The Lust Fairy reclines within an opalescent conch shell, her skin illuminated by the soft glow of her pearlescent sanctuary. She gently blows shimmering bubbles into the air, each one catching fragments of rainbow light before drifting away like whispered promises. Her smile is playful, her gaze captivating, and every movement invites the viewer to linger just a little longer.
Hidden beyond the glow of her delicate world, the Devil waits in silence.
Flames dance within his hand, casting an ominous red light across the darkness. He does not interrupt her enchantment or demand her attention. He simply watches, knowing that desire has a way of leading us exactly where it wishes. Patiently, he waits for the moment when fascination becomes surrender and the path to his fiery kingdom is chosen willingly.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive nature of temptation.
The opalescent conch shell suggests beauty, intimacy, and the allure of hidden treasures, while the vibrant turquoise flower beneath it offers a fragile foundation for such intoxicating desire. Floating bubbles become symbols of fantasy and fleeting pleasure—beautiful for a moment before disappearing without warning.
The Devil remains almost unnoticed within the shadows. His glowing embers contrast sharply with the fairy's cool, luminous world, reminding us that temptation rarely announces itself with menace. More often, it arrives clothed in beauty, fascination, and the promise of fulfilment.
The painting balances light against darkness, innocence against danger, creating a world where enchantment and destruction exist side by side.
The Meaning
Lust is often reduced to physical desire, but to me it reaches far beyond that.
Lust is the longing for what we believe will complete us. It is the pursuit of beauty, excitement, possession, power, or perfection. It is the moment when desire begins to cloud judgement, convincing us that fulfilment lies just beyond our reach if only we continue chasing it.
The bubbles drifting through the air embody these fleeting desires. They shimmer with possibility, yet vanish the moment they are grasped.
The Devil does not create the temptation.
He simply waits for desire to become powerful enough to lead us to him.
The painting asks:
When does longing stop inspiring us and begin controlling us?
Behind the Painting
When I began painting Lust, I wasn't interested in creating a story about seduction alone. I wanted to explore the irresistible pull of desire in all its forms.
There is something deeply human about longing for more—for affection, recognition, beauty, success, or experiences that seem just out of reach. Desire itself is not our enemy. It is what drives us to dream, to create, and to seek connection.
But desire becomes dangerous when it blinds us to consequence.
I wanted the fairy to appear completely immersed in her own beautiful world, unaware that darkness patiently surrounds her. The Devil never needs to force temptation upon her because the most powerful temptations are often the ones we willingly follow.
Perhaps that is what lust truly is.
Not simply wanting.
But believing that happiness always exists somewhere beyond the present moment.
The Lust Fairy reclines within an opalescent conch shell, her skin illuminated by the soft glow of her pearlescent sanctuary. She gently blows shimmering bubbles into the air, each one catching fragments of rainbow light before drifting away like whispered promises. Her smile is playful, her gaze captivating, and every movement invites the viewer to linger just a little longer.
Hidden beyond the glow of her delicate world, the Devil waits in silence.
Flames dance within his hand, casting an ominous red light across the darkness. He does not interrupt her enchantment or demand her attention. He simply watches, knowing that desire has a way of leading us exactly where it wishes. Patiently, he waits for the moment when fascination becomes surrender and the path to his fiery kingdom is chosen willingly.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive nature of temptation.
The opalescent conch shell suggests beauty, intimacy, and the allure of hidden treasures, while the vibrant turquoise flower beneath it offers a fragile foundation for such intoxicating desire. Floating bubbles become symbols of fantasy and fleeting pleasure—beautiful for a moment before disappearing without warning.
The Devil remains almost unnoticed within the shadows. His glowing embers contrast sharply with the fairy's cool, luminous world, reminding us that temptation rarely announces itself with menace. More often, it arrives clothed in beauty, fascination, and the promise of fulfilment.
The painting balances light against darkness, innocence against danger, creating a world where enchantment and destruction exist side by side.
The Meaning
Lust is often reduced to physical desire, but to me it reaches far beyond that.
Lust is the longing for what we believe will complete us. It is the pursuit of beauty, excitement, possession, power, or perfection. It is the moment when desire begins to cloud judgement, convincing us that fulfilment lies just beyond our reach if only we continue chasing it.
The bubbles drifting through the air embody these fleeting desires. They shimmer with possibility, yet vanish the moment they are grasped.
The Devil does not create the temptation.
He simply waits for desire to become powerful enough to lead us to him.
The painting asks:
When does longing stop inspiring us and begin controlling us?
Behind the Painting
When I began painting Lust, I wasn't interested in creating a story about seduction alone. I wanted to explore the irresistible pull of desire in all its forms.
There is something deeply human about longing for more—for affection, recognition, beauty, success, or experiences that seem just out of reach. Desire itself is not our enemy. It is what drives us to dream, to create, and to seek connection.
But desire becomes dangerous when it blinds us to consequence.
I wanted the fairy to appear completely immersed in her own beautiful world, unaware that darkness patiently surrounds her. The Devil never needs to force temptation upon her because the most powerful temptations are often the ones we willingly follow.
Perhaps that is what lust truly is.
Not simply wanting.
But believing that happiness always exists somewhere beyond the present moment.
Sloth – The Sedentary Life: Contemporary Painting of the Seven Deadly Sins
The Story
The Sloth Fairy reclines comfortably within her oversized seed pod, her delicate wings folded and heavy with indifference. A haze of smoke drifts lazily from her lips, curling through the still air as though time itself has slowed around her. She is perfectly content, untouched by urgency, oblivious to the vibrant garden bursting into life beyond her sanctuary.
Flowers bloom in radiant colour. Insects dance from blossom to blossom. The world continues to grow, flourish and evolve, yet she remains motionless, watching life unfold without ever becoming part of it.
Hidden amongst the shadows, the Devil waits.
A subtle smile crosses his face as serpents coil and writhe at his feet. He knows that he does not need to persuade her. Every moment surrendered to idleness quietly carries her closer to him. She is not being dragged towards darkness; she is simply allowing it to catch up.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the quiet danger of inaction.
The seed pod represents unrealised potential. A seed contains the promise of life, growth and transformation, yet it can remain dormant forever if it is never given the opportunity to flourish. It becomes both a place of comfort and a prison.
The smoke drifting through the air symbolises distraction and escapism, gently clouding awareness while time slips silently away. Around the fairy, the thriving garden celebrates the vitality of life itself, making her stillness all the more striking.
The Devil remains patient, surrounded by serpents that have long symbolised temptation, deceit and decay. His role is not to entice but to observe, knowing that neglect has a way of becoming its own punishment.
The Meaning
Sloth is often mistaken for laziness, but to me it is something far more subtle and far more dangerous.
It is the quiet surrender of possibility.
It is allowing fear, comfort, distraction or self-doubt to convince us that tomorrow will always be a better day to begin. It is watching opportunities pass while convincing ourselves that there is still plenty of time.
The tragedy of sloth is not that nothing happens.
It is that life continues without us.
The Sloth Fairy believes she has found peace, yet what surrounds her is not peace at all. It is stagnation. While the world blossoms with colour and movement, she remains rooted in stillness, unaware that every moment of inaction quietly shapes her future.
The painting asks:
How much of life do we miss while waiting for the perfect moment to begin?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Sloth, I found myself thinking less about laziness and more about the ways we slowly lose ourselves.
There are times when life feels overwhelming, and retreating into comfort can seem like the safest place to be. We distract ourselves, postpone difficult decisions, and tell ourselves that tomorrow will be different. Sometimes those tomorrows become months or even years.
I wanted the fairy to appear peaceful, because that is often how stagnation disguises itself. It rarely announces itself as failure. Instead, it whispers that there is no hurry, that there will always be another opportunity.
The Devil understands this.
He does not need to tempt the Sloth Fairy with riches or promises. He simply waits, because a life left unlived can become its own form of captivity.
To me, Sloth is not about judging those who pause or rest. Rest is essential. It is about recognising the difference between healing and hiding, between restoring ourselves and quietly allowing our potential to wither.
Sometimes the greatest risk is not making the wrong choice.
It is never making one at all.
The Sloth Fairy reclines comfortably within her oversized seed pod, her delicate wings folded and heavy with indifference. A haze of smoke drifts lazily from her lips, curling through the still air as though time itself has slowed around her. She is perfectly content, untouched by urgency, oblivious to the vibrant garden bursting into life beyond her sanctuary.
Flowers bloom in radiant colour. Insects dance from blossom to blossom. The world continues to grow, flourish and evolve, yet she remains motionless, watching life unfold without ever becoming part of it.
Hidden amongst the shadows, the Devil waits.
A subtle smile crosses his face as serpents coil and writhe at his feet. He knows that he does not need to persuade her. Every moment surrendered to idleness quietly carries her closer to him. She is not being dragged towards darkness; she is simply allowing it to catch up.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the quiet danger of inaction.
The seed pod represents unrealised potential. A seed contains the promise of life, growth and transformation, yet it can remain dormant forever if it is never given the opportunity to flourish. It becomes both a place of comfort and a prison.
The smoke drifting through the air symbolises distraction and escapism, gently clouding awareness while time slips silently away. Around the fairy, the thriving garden celebrates the vitality of life itself, making her stillness all the more striking.
The Devil remains patient, surrounded by serpents that have long symbolised temptation, deceit and decay. His role is not to entice but to observe, knowing that neglect has a way of becoming its own punishment.
The Meaning
Sloth is often mistaken for laziness, but to me it is something far more subtle and far more dangerous.
It is the quiet surrender of possibility.
It is allowing fear, comfort, distraction or self-doubt to convince us that tomorrow will always be a better day to begin. It is watching opportunities pass while convincing ourselves that there is still plenty of time.
The tragedy of sloth is not that nothing happens.
It is that life continues without us.
The Sloth Fairy believes she has found peace, yet what surrounds her is not peace at all. It is stagnation. While the world blossoms with colour and movement, she remains rooted in stillness, unaware that every moment of inaction quietly shapes her future.
The painting asks:
How much of life do we miss while waiting for the perfect moment to begin?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Sloth, I found myself thinking less about laziness and more about the ways we slowly lose ourselves.
There are times when life feels overwhelming, and retreating into comfort can seem like the safest place to be. We distract ourselves, postpone difficult decisions, and tell ourselves that tomorrow will be different. Sometimes those tomorrows become months or even years.
I wanted the fairy to appear peaceful, because that is often how stagnation disguises itself. It rarely announces itself as failure. Instead, it whispers that there is no hurry, that there will always be another opportunity.
The Devil understands this.
He does not need to tempt the Sloth Fairy with riches or promises. He simply waits, because a life left unlived can become its own form of captivity.
To me, Sloth is not about judging those who pause or rest. Rest is essential. It is about recognising the difference between healing and hiding, between restoring ourselves and quietly allowing our potential to wither.
Sometimes the greatest risk is not making the wrong choice.
It is never making one at all.
The Seven Deadly Sins Series: Greed – The Opulence – Original Contemporary Artwork by Julia
The Story
Perched upon a fractured pearl that glows beneath the silver light of the moon, the Greedy Little Fairy clutches her treasured golden spheres with unwavering devotion. Their polished surfaces shimmer hypnotically, reflecting the moonlight like precious stars fallen to earth. Hidden beneath the still waters below lies the rest of her hoard, carefully concealed where no one else can reach it.
To her, there is never enough.
No treasure is too great. No collection is ever complete. Every possession offers only a fleeting sense of satisfaction before another desire quietly takes its place.
Watching from the darkness, the Devil waits with quiet certainty. In his hand he holds a single drop of boiling oil—a forewarning of the torment that awaits those consumed by endless want. He does not need to steal her riches. He knows that greed has already imprisoned her long before she reaches his kingdom.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive illusion of possession.
The shattered pearl represents something once pure that has been fractured by obsession. Traditionally a symbol of wisdom, rarity and beauty, it now serves as a throne built upon broken values.
The golden spheres symbolise more than wealth alone. They represent every object of desire that promises fulfilment yet never truly satisfies. Hidden beneath the tranquil water, the fairy's unseen hoard suggests the secrets we accumulate—the possessions, ambitions and insecurities we protect in the hope they will define our worth.
The moonlight casts an enchanting glow across the scene, disguising the darkness that surrounds it. Meanwhile, the Devil remains patient, his drop of boiling oil recalling the punishments described in medieval visions of Hell, where greed ultimately consumes the soul that once sought to possess everything.
The Meaning
Greed is rarely about money alone.
It is the belief that happiness always lies in having just a little more.
More wealth.
More success.
More admiration.
More security.
Greed convinces us that fulfilment is always waiting beyond the next achievement or acquisition. Yet every desire fulfilled soon gives birth to another, leaving us trapped in a cycle where enough is never truly enough.
The Greedy Little Fairy is surrounded by beauty, yet she cannot appreciate it. Her attention remains fixed upon what she owns rather than what she already possesses in life.
The painting asks:
When does the desire to possess something become the thing that possesses us?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Greed, I found myself thinking about the world we have created.
We are constantly encouraged to chase more—more success, more possessions, more recognition, more influence. We celebrate accumulation as though it were the measure of a meaningful life, often forgetting to ask whether any of it truly brings contentment.
The fairy became a reflection of that endless pursuit. She believes her treasures offer safety, identity and happiness, yet every golden sphere she gathers quietly becomes another weight she must carry.
The Devil never needs to persuade her to choose greed.
He simply waits, knowing that an insatiable hunger eventually becomes its own punishment.
To me, Greed is not about condemning ambition or achievement. It is about questioning the moment when our desire to own more prevents us from recognising the richness that already surrounds us.
Sometimes the greatest poverty is not having too little.
It is never believing we have enough.
Perched upon a fractured pearl that glows beneath the silver light of the moon, the Greedy Little Fairy clutches her treasured golden spheres with unwavering devotion. Their polished surfaces shimmer hypnotically, reflecting the moonlight like precious stars fallen to earth. Hidden beneath the still waters below lies the rest of her hoard, carefully concealed where no one else can reach it.
To her, there is never enough.
No treasure is too great. No collection is ever complete. Every possession offers only a fleeting sense of satisfaction before another desire quietly takes its place.
Watching from the darkness, the Devil waits with quiet certainty. In his hand he holds a single drop of boiling oil—a forewarning of the torment that awaits those consumed by endless want. He does not need to steal her riches. He knows that greed has already imprisoned her long before she reaches his kingdom.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive illusion of possession.
The shattered pearl represents something once pure that has been fractured by obsession. Traditionally a symbol of wisdom, rarity and beauty, it now serves as a throne built upon broken values.
The golden spheres symbolise more than wealth alone. They represent every object of desire that promises fulfilment yet never truly satisfies. Hidden beneath the tranquil water, the fairy's unseen hoard suggests the secrets we accumulate—the possessions, ambitions and insecurities we protect in the hope they will define our worth.
The moonlight casts an enchanting glow across the scene, disguising the darkness that surrounds it. Meanwhile, the Devil remains patient, his drop of boiling oil recalling the punishments described in medieval visions of Hell, where greed ultimately consumes the soul that once sought to possess everything.
The Meaning
Greed is rarely about money alone.
It is the belief that happiness always lies in having just a little more.
More wealth.
More success.
More admiration.
More security.
Greed convinces us that fulfilment is always waiting beyond the next achievement or acquisition. Yet every desire fulfilled soon gives birth to another, leaving us trapped in a cycle where enough is never truly enough.
The Greedy Little Fairy is surrounded by beauty, yet she cannot appreciate it. Her attention remains fixed upon what she owns rather than what she already possesses in life.
The painting asks:
When does the desire to possess something become the thing that possesses us?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Greed, I found myself thinking about the world we have created.
We are constantly encouraged to chase more—more success, more possessions, more recognition, more influence. We celebrate accumulation as though it were the measure of a meaningful life, often forgetting to ask whether any of it truly brings contentment.
The fairy became a reflection of that endless pursuit. She believes her treasures offer safety, identity and happiness, yet every golden sphere she gathers quietly becomes another weight she must carry.
The Devil never needs to persuade her to choose greed.
He simply waits, knowing that an insatiable hunger eventually becomes its own punishment.
To me, Greed is not about condemning ambition or achievement. It is about questioning the moment when our desire to own more prevents us from recognising the richness that already surrounds us.
Sometimes the greatest poverty is not having too little.
It is never believing we have enough.
The Seven Deadly Sins Series: Envy – The Self-Absorption – Original Contemporary Artwork
The Story
Perched upon a low-hanging leaf, the Envy Fairy gazes upwards with quiet longing. High above her, another leaf basks effortlessly in warm sunlight, elevated above the forest canopy where it seems to receive all the light, admiration and beauty she believes she has been denied.
Her iridescent wings shimmer as they catch the light, yet she never notices their brilliance. Her eyes remain fixed on what belongs to another.
Far below, concealed within the shadows, the Devil watches with knowing satisfaction. A cruel smile spreads across his face as he holds an icicle within his hand, waiting patiently for envy to do what temptation alone never could. He understands that jealousy has a way of freezing the heart, replacing gratitude with resentment until all warmth is lost.
He does not need to whisper.
Comparison has already begun the work for him.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the quiet destruction of comparison.
The two leaves symbolise two different lives—one seemingly blessed with abundance and recognition, the other convinced it has been overlooked. Yet appearances can be deceptive. The higher leaf is seen only through the eyes of envy, which has a habit of magnifying the blessings of others while diminishing our own.
The surrounding woodland flourishes with life and colour, reminding us that beauty exists everywhere. Ironically, the Envy Fairy is surrounded by richness, yet she is unable to see it because her attention is consumed by what she lacks.
The Devil's icicle represents the emotional coldness that envy creates. It symbolises how bitterness can slowly freeze compassion, gratitude and joy, leaving only resentment in their place.
The Meaning
Envy is not simply wanting what someone else has.
It is believing that their happiness somehow diminishes our own.
There will always be someone who appears more successful, more beautiful, more talented or more fortunate. When we measure our worth against theirs, we begin to lose sight of our own journey.
Comparison steals perspective.
Instead of celebrating our own growth, we become trapped chasing someone else's life.
The Envy Fairy cannot appreciate the beauty of the leaf she already occupies because she is convinced fulfilment exists somewhere above her.
The painting asks:
How often do we overlook our own blessings while longing for someone else's?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Envy, I found myself reflecting on how easily comparison finds its way into our lives.
It is something we all experience. We compare our achievements, our appearance, our relationships, our careers, even our happiness. We convince ourselves that someone else's success somehow highlights our own shortcomings.
Yet envy is a distortion.
It encourages us to see only the brightest moments of another person's life while forgetting the struggles that remain hidden from view.
I wanted the fairy to appear captivated by something that seems just beyond her reach, unaware that she already occupies a world filled with beauty. The Devil understands that he does not need to create dissatisfaction. He simply allows comparison to grow until gratitude quietly disappears.
To me, Envy is not a warning against ambition. Ambition helps us grow. Envy begins when our desire to improve ourselves is replaced by the belief that our worth depends upon what someone else possesses.
Sometimes the greatest tragedy is not that we fail to reach the highest branch.
It is that we never notice the beauty of the one beneath our feet.
Perched upon a low-hanging leaf, the Envy Fairy gazes upwards with quiet longing. High above her, another leaf basks effortlessly in warm sunlight, elevated above the forest canopy where it seems to receive all the light, admiration and beauty she believes she has been denied.
Her iridescent wings shimmer as they catch the light, yet she never notices their brilliance. Her eyes remain fixed on what belongs to another.
Far below, concealed within the shadows, the Devil watches with knowing satisfaction. A cruel smile spreads across his face as he holds an icicle within his hand, waiting patiently for envy to do what temptation alone never could. He understands that jealousy has a way of freezing the heart, replacing gratitude with resentment until all warmth is lost.
He does not need to whisper.
Comparison has already begun the work for him.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the quiet destruction of comparison.
The two leaves symbolise two different lives—one seemingly blessed with abundance and recognition, the other convinced it has been overlooked. Yet appearances can be deceptive. The higher leaf is seen only through the eyes of envy, which has a habit of magnifying the blessings of others while diminishing our own.
The surrounding woodland flourishes with life and colour, reminding us that beauty exists everywhere. Ironically, the Envy Fairy is surrounded by richness, yet she is unable to see it because her attention is consumed by what she lacks.
The Devil's icicle represents the emotional coldness that envy creates. It symbolises how bitterness can slowly freeze compassion, gratitude and joy, leaving only resentment in their place.
The Meaning
Envy is not simply wanting what someone else has.
It is believing that their happiness somehow diminishes our own.
There will always be someone who appears more successful, more beautiful, more talented or more fortunate. When we measure our worth against theirs, we begin to lose sight of our own journey.
Comparison steals perspective.
Instead of celebrating our own growth, we become trapped chasing someone else's life.
The Envy Fairy cannot appreciate the beauty of the leaf she already occupies because she is convinced fulfilment exists somewhere above her.
The painting asks:
How often do we overlook our own blessings while longing for someone else's?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Envy, I found myself reflecting on how easily comparison finds its way into our lives.
It is something we all experience. We compare our achievements, our appearance, our relationships, our careers, even our happiness. We convince ourselves that someone else's success somehow highlights our own shortcomings.
Yet envy is a distortion.
It encourages us to see only the brightest moments of another person's life while forgetting the struggles that remain hidden from view.
I wanted the fairy to appear captivated by something that seems just beyond her reach, unaware that she already occupies a world filled with beauty. The Devil understands that he does not need to create dissatisfaction. He simply allows comparison to grow until gratitude quietly disappears.
To me, Envy is not a warning against ambition. Ambition helps us grow. Envy begins when our desire to improve ourselves is replaced by the belief that our worth depends upon what someone else possesses.
Sometimes the greatest tragedy is not that we fail to reach the highest branch.
It is that we never notice the beauty of the one beneath our feet.
The Seven Deadly Sins Series: Wrath – The Tempest – Original Contemporary Artwork by Julia
The Story
Hidden within the protective shell of a spiked conker, the Wrath Fairy waits.
Her wings vibrate with barely restrained energy, every feather echoing the storm gathering beneath the surface. Her eyes burn with fierce determination, fixed upon a world she is ready to confront. She is not consumed by a sudden outburst of anger; she is the culmination of countless moments left unresolved, each one adding another layer to the rage she carries.
The conker becomes both sanctuary and prison. It shields her from the world while quietly nurturing the fury within.
Below, concealed in the shadows, the Devil watches with quiet satisfaction. A wicked grin crosses his face as he grips a gleaming machete, knowing that wrath rarely destroys only its intended target. He understands that once anger is unleashed, it can become indiscriminate, leaving devastation in its wake.
He does not provoke her.
He simply waits for the moment she can no longer contain what has been building inside.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the destructive power of unresolved anger.
The spiked conker represents protection, resilience and defence, yet its sharp exterior also reflects the barriers we construct after being hurt. What begins as self-preservation can slowly become isolation, allowing anger to grow unseen within.
The fairy's vibrant wings pulse with energy, symbolising the emotional intensity of wrath. They suggest movement, release and the overwhelming force of emotions that have been held back for too long.
The Devil remains beneath her, holding a machete that represents the irreversible damage anger can inflict once it is allowed to take control. His presence reminds us that wrath often harms the person carrying it as much as those towards whom it is directed.
The painting balances explosive energy with unsettling stillness, capturing the final moment before everything changes.
The Meaning
Wrath is rarely born in a single moment.
It grows quietly.
It begins with hurt that goes unheard, injustice left unresolved, grief that cannot find an outlet, or wounds that are carried for far longer than anyone realises.
Left unspoken, these emotions gather strength until anger becomes the language through which pain finally speaks.
Wrath itself is not evil.
It can protect us, inspire change, and drive us to confront injustice. Yet when anger becomes our only voice, it has the power to consume everything around it, including ourselves.
The Wrath Fairy stands at the edge of that choice.
Will her anger become a force for change, or a force of destruction?
The painting asks:
At what point does anger stop protecting us and begin imprisoning us?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Wrath, I wasn't searching for anger.
I was searching for where anger begins.
Wrath has often been portrayed as an uncontrollable explosion, but I believe it is far more complex than that. Anger rarely appears without reason. It is often born from trauma, disappointment, fear, rejection or injustice. It grows in the places where pain has remained unheard.
As I explored this painting, I found myself searching the furthest corners of my own mind, asking difficult questions about the moments that shape us and the emotions we carry long after others have forgotten them.
Its opposing virtue is patience.
Not because patience suppresses anger, but because patience allows us the space to understand it before it controls us.
This painting became an exploration of that fragile balance between the two.
Perhaps wrath is not the beginning of the story.
Perhaps it is the final chapter of a much older wound.
That is the question I hope this painting leaves with every viewer.
Hidden within the protective shell of a spiked conker, the Wrath Fairy waits.
Her wings vibrate with barely restrained energy, every feather echoing the storm gathering beneath the surface. Her eyes burn with fierce determination, fixed upon a world she is ready to confront. She is not consumed by a sudden outburst of anger; she is the culmination of countless moments left unresolved, each one adding another layer to the rage she carries.
The conker becomes both sanctuary and prison. It shields her from the world while quietly nurturing the fury within.
Below, concealed in the shadows, the Devil watches with quiet satisfaction. A wicked grin crosses his face as he grips a gleaming machete, knowing that wrath rarely destroys only its intended target. He understands that once anger is unleashed, it can become indiscriminate, leaving devastation in its wake.
He does not provoke her.
He simply waits for the moment she can no longer contain what has been building inside.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the destructive power of unresolved anger.
The spiked conker represents protection, resilience and defence, yet its sharp exterior also reflects the barriers we construct after being hurt. What begins as self-preservation can slowly become isolation, allowing anger to grow unseen within.
The fairy's vibrant wings pulse with energy, symbolising the emotional intensity of wrath. They suggest movement, release and the overwhelming force of emotions that have been held back for too long.
The Devil remains beneath her, holding a machete that represents the irreversible damage anger can inflict once it is allowed to take control. His presence reminds us that wrath often harms the person carrying it as much as those towards whom it is directed.
The painting balances explosive energy with unsettling stillness, capturing the final moment before everything changes.
The Meaning
Wrath is rarely born in a single moment.
It grows quietly.
It begins with hurt that goes unheard, injustice left unresolved, grief that cannot find an outlet, or wounds that are carried for far longer than anyone realises.
Left unspoken, these emotions gather strength until anger becomes the language through which pain finally speaks.
Wrath itself is not evil.
It can protect us, inspire change, and drive us to confront injustice. Yet when anger becomes our only voice, it has the power to consume everything around it, including ourselves.
The Wrath Fairy stands at the edge of that choice.
Will her anger become a force for change, or a force of destruction?
The painting asks:
At what point does anger stop protecting us and begin imprisoning us?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Wrath, I wasn't searching for anger.
I was searching for where anger begins.
Wrath has often been portrayed as an uncontrollable explosion, but I believe it is far more complex than that. Anger rarely appears without reason. It is often born from trauma, disappointment, fear, rejection or injustice. It grows in the places where pain has remained unheard.
As I explored this painting, I found myself searching the furthest corners of my own mind, asking difficult questions about the moments that shape us and the emotions we carry long after others have forgotten them.
Its opposing virtue is patience.
Not because patience suppresses anger, but because patience allows us the space to understand it before it controls us.
This painting became an exploration of that fragile balance between the two.
Perhaps wrath is not the beginning of the story.
Perhaps it is the final chapter of a much older wound.
That is the question I hope this painting leaves with every viewer.
Pride – The Self-Centred Essence: Contemporary Painting of the Seven Deadly Sins
The Story
The Pride Fairy sits gracefully upon the magnificent blossom she has lovingly created, her iridescent wings catching the warmth of a radiant pink and amber sky. From her lofty perch she surveys the flourishing landscape below, her expression calm, confident and quietly satisfied.
Every petal has been carefully arranged. Every blossom has been chosen with intention. Her flower stands proudly above all others, not through chance, but through dedication, patience and care. It is her masterpiece.
Far below, hidden within the gathering shadows, the Devil watches.
He waits with knowing patience, convinced that admiration will one day become vanity, confidence will become superiority, and satisfaction will transform into arrogance. In his mind, he already sees the eternal wheel awaiting her, where the weight of pride will eventually demand its own reckoning.
He understands how easily self-belief can become self-importance.
Sometimes the greatest fall begins at the highest point.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the delicate boundary between confidence and conceit.
The magnificent flower symbolises achievement born through creativity, dedication and perseverance. It is not a gift but something cultivated with care, making the fairy's sense of accomplishment understandable.
The warm sky bathes the scene in light, creating an atmosphere of beauty and celebration, while the Devil's shadow introduces an uneasy tension that quietly questions whether admiration of our own achievements can slowly become an obsession with ourselves.
The contrast between light and darkness reminds us that pride is rarely obvious. It often begins as gratitude for what we have achieved before gradually convincing us that our achievements define our worth.
The Devil does not seek to destroy her accomplishments.
He simply waits for them to become the measure of her identity.
The Meaning
Pride is perhaps the most complicated of the Seven Deadly Sins.
Without pride, we would never celebrate our achievements, honour our hard work or recognise our own growth. Healthy pride gives us confidence, resilience and self-respect.
But pride changes when admiration for what we have accomplished becomes a belief that we stand above others.
It whispers that our success makes us more deserving.
That our voice matters more.
That our accomplishments define our value.
The Pride Fairy stands on the edge of that transformation. She has every reason to appreciate the beauty she has created, yet the painting asks whether appreciation can quietly become superiority if left unchecked.
The painting asks:
When does confidence stop inspiring us and begin separating us from others?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Pride, I found myself thinking about the fine line between confidence and arrogance.
As artists, we are encouraged to believe in our work. We spend countless hours learning, refining our skills and creating something deeply personal. There is nothing wrong with feeling proud of what we have achieved.
In fact, I think we should.
The danger begins when our identity becomes inseparable from our achievements. When we seek admiration more than meaning. When recognition becomes more important than the work itself.
I wanted the Pride Fairy to appear neither cruel nor boastful. Instead, she sits quietly within the beauty she has created, allowing the viewer to decide whether she is celebrating her accomplishments or becoming consumed by them.
The Devil understands that pride rarely arrives as arrogance.
It often begins with something far more innocent.
A moment of well-deserved satisfaction.
Perhaps the greatest challenge is not learning to take pride in ourselves.
Perhaps it is remembering that our worth has never depended upon standing above someone else.
The Pride Fairy sits gracefully upon the magnificent blossom she has lovingly created, her iridescent wings catching the warmth of a radiant pink and amber sky. From her lofty perch she surveys the flourishing landscape below, her expression calm, confident and quietly satisfied.
Every petal has been carefully arranged. Every blossom has been chosen with intention. Her flower stands proudly above all others, not through chance, but through dedication, patience and care. It is her masterpiece.
Far below, hidden within the gathering shadows, the Devil watches.
He waits with knowing patience, convinced that admiration will one day become vanity, confidence will become superiority, and satisfaction will transform into arrogance. In his mind, he already sees the eternal wheel awaiting her, where the weight of pride will eventually demand its own reckoning.
He understands how easily self-belief can become self-importance.
Sometimes the greatest fall begins at the highest point.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the delicate boundary between confidence and conceit.
The magnificent flower symbolises achievement born through creativity, dedication and perseverance. It is not a gift but something cultivated with care, making the fairy's sense of accomplishment understandable.
The warm sky bathes the scene in light, creating an atmosphere of beauty and celebration, while the Devil's shadow introduces an uneasy tension that quietly questions whether admiration of our own achievements can slowly become an obsession with ourselves.
The contrast between light and darkness reminds us that pride is rarely obvious. It often begins as gratitude for what we have achieved before gradually convincing us that our achievements define our worth.
The Devil does not seek to destroy her accomplishments.
He simply waits for them to become the measure of her identity.
The Meaning
Pride is perhaps the most complicated of the Seven Deadly Sins.
Without pride, we would never celebrate our achievements, honour our hard work or recognise our own growth. Healthy pride gives us confidence, resilience and self-respect.
But pride changes when admiration for what we have accomplished becomes a belief that we stand above others.
It whispers that our success makes us more deserving.
That our voice matters more.
That our accomplishments define our value.
The Pride Fairy stands on the edge of that transformation. She has every reason to appreciate the beauty she has created, yet the painting asks whether appreciation can quietly become superiority if left unchecked.
The painting asks:
When does confidence stop inspiring us and begin separating us from others?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Pride, I found myself thinking about the fine line between confidence and arrogance.
As artists, we are encouraged to believe in our work. We spend countless hours learning, refining our skills and creating something deeply personal. There is nothing wrong with feeling proud of what we have achieved.
In fact, I think we should.
The danger begins when our identity becomes inseparable from our achievements. When we seek admiration more than meaning. When recognition becomes more important than the work itself.
I wanted the Pride Fairy to appear neither cruel nor boastful. Instead, she sits quietly within the beauty she has created, allowing the viewer to decide whether she is celebrating her accomplishments or becoming consumed by them.
The Devil understands that pride rarely arrives as arrogance.
It often begins with something far more innocent.
A moment of well-deserved satisfaction.
Perhaps the greatest challenge is not learning to take pride in ourselves.
Perhaps it is remembering that our worth has never depended upon standing above someone else.
The House of Sin
The House of Sin is exactly what its name suggests: a decadent, crooked house where each of the Seven Deadly Sins has taken up residence.
At the very top sits Pride. Naturally, he has the penthouse. Looking down upon everyone below, his position within the house says almost everything that needs to be said about him.
Greed sits surrounded by his accumulated wares, Buddha-like in shape and looking thoroughly pleased with himself and everything he possesses.
Gluttony simply keeps eating. Discarded cartons, leftovers and flies gather around him, but nothing interrupts his endless consumption.
Sloth has no desire to move at all. He sits transfixed in front of the television, allowing life to pass him by. A card on the television tells us he is only 25, yet he appears considerably older, as though his inactivity has aged him beyond his years.
Wrath is caught destroying his room, while a smaller figure cowers fearfully in a neighbouring window. His rage doesn't affect only himself; somebody else is living with its consequences.
Lust sprawls in her room surrounded by discarded men, with the paraphernalia of her lifestyle scattered around her. I deliberately made her rather trampy — this was a cheeky and very literal interpretation of Lust.
And right at the bottom is Envy.
While Pride surveys everyone from the penthouse, Envy is buried in the basement. Thin, desperate and illuminated by an unhealthy green light, he looks upwards from the lowest point of the house at a world in which everybody appears to have more than he does.
Each window becomes its own little world, painted to reflect the sin living within it. But the decadence doesn't stop at the walls. Outside, the house is surrounded by lush, strange foliage, and even the trees themselves represent the sins.
Painted in 2006, this was my first exploration of the Seven Deadly Sins, and at this stage my interpretation was deliberately literal. I wasn't yet pulling apart these ancient ideas or asking the questions that would eventually lead to my later Seven Deadly Sins collection.
I simply gave each sin a room — and let them misbehave inside it.
At the very top sits Pride. Naturally, he has the penthouse. Looking down upon everyone below, his position within the house says almost everything that needs to be said about him.
Greed sits surrounded by his accumulated wares, Buddha-like in shape and looking thoroughly pleased with himself and everything he possesses.
Gluttony simply keeps eating. Discarded cartons, leftovers and flies gather around him, but nothing interrupts his endless consumption.
Sloth has no desire to move at all. He sits transfixed in front of the television, allowing life to pass him by. A card on the television tells us he is only 25, yet he appears considerably older, as though his inactivity has aged him beyond his years.
Wrath is caught destroying his room, while a smaller figure cowers fearfully in a neighbouring window. His rage doesn't affect only himself; somebody else is living with its consequences.
Lust sprawls in her room surrounded by discarded men, with the paraphernalia of her lifestyle scattered around her. I deliberately made her rather trampy — this was a cheeky and very literal interpretation of Lust.
And right at the bottom is Envy.
While Pride surveys everyone from the penthouse, Envy is buried in the basement. Thin, desperate and illuminated by an unhealthy green light, he looks upwards from the lowest point of the house at a world in which everybody appears to have more than he does.
Each window becomes its own little world, painted to reflect the sin living within it. But the decadence doesn't stop at the walls. Outside, the house is surrounded by lush, strange foliage, and even the trees themselves represent the sins.
Painted in 2006, this was my first exploration of the Seven Deadly Sins, and at this stage my interpretation was deliberately literal. I wasn't yet pulling apart these ancient ideas or asking the questions that would eventually lead to my later Seven Deadly Sins collection.
I simply gave each sin a room — and let them misbehave inside it.
The House of Virtue
The House of Virtue was created as the direct companion to The House of Sin, using the same formula but turning everything on its head.
Where Sin lives amongst decadence and lush vegetation, Virtue inhabits a much starker, more barren world. Inside each window, one of the Seven Heavenly Virtues plays out its role.
Temperance rocks in a chair wearing a straitjacket, his eyes slightly wild as he stares at all the things he desires laid out tantalisingly on the table beside him. Everything he wants is within sight, but Temperance is about restraint.
Patience is strapped to a chair while children run riot around her. She looks as though they are driving her completely mad, yet she must endure the chaos without losing control.
Kindness embraces those whom society would rather abandon. Her virtue is represented by accepting and holding close the people others might choose to turn away from.
Charity, wearing a crown, moves through the world dropping coins for underprivileged children in his wake. His elevated position means little unless something is given back to those with less.
Diligence keeps the house working. Sitting in a wheelchair, he turns the great cogs and machinery that allow water to flow through the building. His physical limitations don't prevent him from working or contributing to the lives of everyone around him.
Chastity sits upon a bed enclosed within a cage, its bars topped with phallic forms. Temptation surrounds her, but remains outside the boundary she has chosen.
And Humility is stripped of everything. Naked, with her arms extended before her, she has no possessions, finery or status to hide behind. She simply presents herself as she is.
The landscape surrounding the house is just as deliberate.
Unlike the lush, excessive growth surrounding The House of Sin, here I chose flowers and plants that are able to grow and survive in harsh conditions. They represent the virtues themselves: qualities that aren't necessarily born from comfort or abundance, but can endure and flourish despite adversity.
It makes the contrast between the two paintings much more interesting to me now.
Sin was given abundance. Virtue was given hardship.
And yet Virtue still grows.
Where Sin lives amongst decadence and lush vegetation, Virtue inhabits a much starker, more barren world. Inside each window, one of the Seven Heavenly Virtues plays out its role.
Temperance rocks in a chair wearing a straitjacket, his eyes slightly wild as he stares at all the things he desires laid out tantalisingly on the table beside him. Everything he wants is within sight, but Temperance is about restraint.
Patience is strapped to a chair while children run riot around her. She looks as though they are driving her completely mad, yet she must endure the chaos without losing control.
Kindness embraces those whom society would rather abandon. Her virtue is represented by accepting and holding close the people others might choose to turn away from.
Charity, wearing a crown, moves through the world dropping coins for underprivileged children in his wake. His elevated position means little unless something is given back to those with less.
Diligence keeps the house working. Sitting in a wheelchair, he turns the great cogs and machinery that allow water to flow through the building. His physical limitations don't prevent him from working or contributing to the lives of everyone around him.
Chastity sits upon a bed enclosed within a cage, its bars topped with phallic forms. Temptation surrounds her, but remains outside the boundary she has chosen.
And Humility is stripped of everything. Naked, with her arms extended before her, she has no possessions, finery or status to hide behind. She simply presents herself as she is.
The landscape surrounding the house is just as deliberate.
Unlike the lush, excessive growth surrounding The House of Sin, here I chose flowers and plants that are able to grow and survive in harsh conditions. They represent the virtues themselves: qualities that aren't necessarily born from comfort or abundance, but can endure and flourish despite adversity.
It makes the contrast between the two paintings much more interesting to me now.
Sin was given abundance. Virtue was given hardship.
And yet Virtue still grows.
The Carnival of Sin
With The Carnival of Sin, I took the Seven Deadly Sins out of their houses and sent them to the circus.
This was never intended to be terribly serious. It is playful, satirical, tongue-in-cheek and deliberately cheeky, using famous faces and elements of popular culture to turn each sin into its own carnival act.
The artwork is constructed as a jigsaw puzzle of seven individual panels. Each room takes on the colour traditionally associated with its sin, while a small Devil and a reference to that sin's traditional punishment are hidden somewhere within the composition.
At the centre of the carnival is the ringmaster, Imelda Marcos as Greed. Famous for her enormous shoe collection, she sits upon the merry-go-round surrounded by her beloved shoes, which have even been given their own ride. Meanwhile, the little children are relegated to the steps below. Her possessions have quite literally been given greater importance than people.
Tom Cruise becomes Pride, a circus juggler towering above the ground on exaggerated stilts. With impossibly long legs, he juggles planets above his head — my mischievous nod towards his association with Scientology.
For Envy, I turned to the trapeze and the very public comparisons between Lady Gaga and Madonna. Surrounded by mirrors, the two performers compete with one another, each seemingly trying to outdo the other. Reflection, comparison and rivalry become part of the act.
Paris Hilton is Sloth, transformed into my version of the Fiji Mermaid and reclining on a chaise longue. While everyone else performs around her, Sloth is perfectly content not to bother.
Naomi Campbell becomes Wrath, cast as the lion tamer. Her whip takes the form of a telephone, while the lion beside her looks decidedly frightened — a cheeky reference to the highly publicised incidents involving phones that surrounded her at the time.
For Gluttony, there could really only be one carnival clown. Elvis Presley bursts from a jack-in-the-box accompanied by two enormous sandwich-shaped balloons, referencing the famously extravagant sandwiches associated with his appetite.
And finally, Angelina Jolie becomes Lust, taking her place as the carnival fortune teller. Behind her, the tarot imagery contains a reference to one of her films with Brad Pitt, weaving celebrity romance, sexuality and popular culture into the fortune teller's world.
None of it was meant to be taken too solemnly.
These were celebrities filtered through the tabloid stories, public personas and cultural references surrounding them at the time, then exaggerated into caricatures and dropped into my rather unruly circus.
After the literal morality of The House of Sin and Virtue, I had discovered that the Seven Deadly Sins could also be something else:
They could be enormous fun to misbehave with.
This was never intended to be terribly serious. It is playful, satirical, tongue-in-cheek and deliberately cheeky, using famous faces and elements of popular culture to turn each sin into its own carnival act.
The artwork is constructed as a jigsaw puzzle of seven individual panels. Each room takes on the colour traditionally associated with its sin, while a small Devil and a reference to that sin's traditional punishment are hidden somewhere within the composition.
At the centre of the carnival is the ringmaster, Imelda Marcos as Greed. Famous for her enormous shoe collection, she sits upon the merry-go-round surrounded by her beloved shoes, which have even been given their own ride. Meanwhile, the little children are relegated to the steps below. Her possessions have quite literally been given greater importance than people.
Tom Cruise becomes Pride, a circus juggler towering above the ground on exaggerated stilts. With impossibly long legs, he juggles planets above his head — my mischievous nod towards his association with Scientology.
For Envy, I turned to the trapeze and the very public comparisons between Lady Gaga and Madonna. Surrounded by mirrors, the two performers compete with one another, each seemingly trying to outdo the other. Reflection, comparison and rivalry become part of the act.
Paris Hilton is Sloth, transformed into my version of the Fiji Mermaid and reclining on a chaise longue. While everyone else performs around her, Sloth is perfectly content not to bother.
Naomi Campbell becomes Wrath, cast as the lion tamer. Her whip takes the form of a telephone, while the lion beside her looks decidedly frightened — a cheeky reference to the highly publicised incidents involving phones that surrounded her at the time.
For Gluttony, there could really only be one carnival clown. Elvis Presley bursts from a jack-in-the-box accompanied by two enormous sandwich-shaped balloons, referencing the famously extravagant sandwiches associated with his appetite.
And finally, Angelina Jolie becomes Lust, taking her place as the carnival fortune teller. Behind her, the tarot imagery contains a reference to one of her films with Brad Pitt, weaving celebrity romance, sexuality and popular culture into the fortune teller's world.
None of it was meant to be taken too solemnly.
These were celebrities filtered through the tabloid stories, public personas and cultural references surrounding them at the time, then exaggerated into caricatures and dropped into my rather unruly circus.
After the literal morality of The House of Sin and Virtue, I had discovered that the Seven Deadly Sins could also be something else:
They could be enormous fun to misbehave with.
Gluttony – Contemporary Painting Exploring Desire and Excess
The Story
The Gluttony Fairy nestles comfortably within her eccentric mushroom throne, her iridescent wings shimmering as she devours one plump snail after another. Her eyes glisten with insatiable delight, each mouthful savoured without guilt or restraint. Hidden within the shadows, the Devil watches patiently, serpents coiled at his feet as he waits for her hunger to consume her completely.
He knows she will eventually follow her appetite into his kingdom, where an endless feast awaits—a grotesque banquet where indulgence becomes eternal torment.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive nature of excess.
The oversized mushroom offers comfort and temptation, its rich colours masking the danger beneath. Beside it, a dying tree bears glistening snails and ripe, heavy plums, suggesting that even abundance can flourish alongside decay. The luminous yellow and violet sky creates an almost dreamlike atmosphere, drawing the viewer into a world where beauty disguises corruption.
The Devil remains partially hidden, allowing the fairy to believe she is free, while his presence reminds us that every act of unchecked indulgence carries a consequence.
The Meaning
Gluttony is often misunderstood as simply overeating, but to me it speaks of something much broader.
It is the inability to recognise when enough is enough.
We live in a culture that constantly encourages us to consume more—more possessions, more wealth, more experiences, more entertainment. Satisfaction is fleeting because we are taught to chase the next desire before appreciating what we already have.
The Gluttony Fairy represents that endless hunger. She is captivated by immediate pleasure, unaware that every indulgence draws her closer to the Devil who waits with infinite temptation.
The painting asks a simple but uncomfortable question:
At what point does pleasure stop nourishing us and begin consuming us instead?
Behind the Painting (This is where your voice shines.)
When I painted Gluttony, I wasn't thinking solely about food. I was thinking about human nature.
Why is it that we always seem to want more?
More success. More approval. More possessions. More time. We convince ourselves that the next achievement or acquisition will finally satisfy us, yet contentment often slips further away.
This painting became my reflection on excess in all its forms and on the quiet danger of never recognising when we already have enough.
The Gluttony Fairy nestles comfortably within her eccentric mushroom throne, her iridescent wings shimmering as she devours one plump snail after another. Her eyes glisten with insatiable delight, each mouthful savoured without guilt or restraint. Hidden within the shadows, the Devil watches patiently, serpents coiled at his feet as he waits for her hunger to consume her completely.
He knows she will eventually follow her appetite into his kingdom, where an endless feast awaits—a grotesque banquet where indulgence becomes eternal torment.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive nature of excess.
The oversized mushroom offers comfort and temptation, its rich colours masking the danger beneath. Beside it, a dying tree bears glistening snails and ripe, heavy plums, suggesting that even abundance can flourish alongside decay. The luminous yellow and violet sky creates an almost dreamlike atmosphere, drawing the viewer into a world where beauty disguises corruption.
The Devil remains partially hidden, allowing the fairy to believe she is free, while his presence reminds us that every act of unchecked indulgence carries a consequence.
The Meaning
Gluttony is often misunderstood as simply overeating, but to me it speaks of something much broader.
It is the inability to recognise when enough is enough.
We live in a culture that constantly encourages us to consume more—more possessions, more wealth, more experiences, more entertainment. Satisfaction is fleeting because we are taught to chase the next desire before appreciating what we already have.
The Gluttony Fairy represents that endless hunger. She is captivated by immediate pleasure, unaware that every indulgence draws her closer to the Devil who waits with infinite temptation.
The painting asks a simple but uncomfortable question:
At what point does pleasure stop nourishing us and begin consuming us instead?
Behind the Painting (This is where your voice shines.)
When I painted Gluttony, I wasn't thinking solely about food. I was thinking about human nature.
Why is it that we always seem to want more?
More success. More approval. More possessions. More time. We convince ourselves that the next achievement or acquisition will finally satisfy us, yet contentment often slips further away.
This painting became my reflection on excess in all its forms and on the quiet danger of never recognising when we already have enough.
Dark Desire and Temptation: ‘The Seduction of Lust’ Contemporary Painting
The Story
The Lust Fairy reclines within an opalescent conch shell, her skin illuminated by the soft glow of her pearlescent sanctuary. She gently blows shimmering bubbles into the air, each one catching fragments of rainbow light before drifting away like whispered promises. Her smile is playful, her gaze captivating, and every movement invites the viewer to linger just a little longer.
Hidden beyond the glow of her delicate world, the Devil waits in silence.
Flames dance within his hand, casting an ominous red light across the darkness. He does not interrupt her enchantment or demand her attention. He simply watches, knowing that desire has a way of leading us exactly where it wishes. Patiently, he waits for the moment when fascination becomes surrender and the path to his fiery kingdom is chosen willingly.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive nature of temptation.
The opalescent conch shell suggests beauty, intimacy, and the allure of hidden treasures, while the vibrant turquoise flower beneath it offers a fragile foundation for such intoxicating desire. Floating bubbles become symbols of fantasy and fleeting pleasure—beautiful for a moment before disappearing without warning.
The Devil remains almost unnoticed within the shadows. His glowing embers contrast sharply with the fairy's cool, luminous world, reminding us that temptation rarely announces itself with menace. More often, it arrives clothed in beauty, fascination, and the promise of fulfilment.
The painting balances light against darkness, innocence against danger, creating a world where enchantment and destruction exist side by side.
The Meaning
Lust is often reduced to physical desire, but to me it reaches far beyond that.
Lust is the longing for what we believe will complete us. It is the pursuit of beauty, excitement, possession, power, or perfection. It is the moment when desire begins to cloud judgement, convincing us that fulfilment lies just beyond our reach if only we continue chasing it.
The bubbles drifting through the air embody these fleeting desires. They shimmer with possibility, yet vanish the moment they are grasped.
The Devil does not create the temptation.
He simply waits for desire to become powerful enough to lead us to him.
The painting asks:
When does longing stop inspiring us and begin controlling us?
Behind the Painting
When I began painting Lust, I wasn't interested in creating a story about seduction alone. I wanted to explore the irresistible pull of desire in all its forms.
There is something deeply human about longing for more—for affection, recognition, beauty, success, or experiences that seem just out of reach. Desire itself is not our enemy. It is what drives us to dream, to create, and to seek connection.
But desire becomes dangerous when it blinds us to consequence.
I wanted the fairy to appear completely immersed in her own beautiful world, unaware that darkness patiently surrounds her. The Devil never needs to force temptation upon her because the most powerful temptations are often the ones we willingly follow.
Perhaps that is what lust truly is.
Not simply wanting.
But believing that happiness always exists somewhere beyond the present moment.
The Lust Fairy reclines within an opalescent conch shell, her skin illuminated by the soft glow of her pearlescent sanctuary. She gently blows shimmering bubbles into the air, each one catching fragments of rainbow light before drifting away like whispered promises. Her smile is playful, her gaze captivating, and every movement invites the viewer to linger just a little longer.
Hidden beyond the glow of her delicate world, the Devil waits in silence.
Flames dance within his hand, casting an ominous red light across the darkness. He does not interrupt her enchantment or demand her attention. He simply watches, knowing that desire has a way of leading us exactly where it wishes. Patiently, he waits for the moment when fascination becomes surrender and the path to his fiery kingdom is chosen willingly.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive nature of temptation.
The opalescent conch shell suggests beauty, intimacy, and the allure of hidden treasures, while the vibrant turquoise flower beneath it offers a fragile foundation for such intoxicating desire. Floating bubbles become symbols of fantasy and fleeting pleasure—beautiful for a moment before disappearing without warning.
The Devil remains almost unnoticed within the shadows. His glowing embers contrast sharply with the fairy's cool, luminous world, reminding us that temptation rarely announces itself with menace. More often, it arrives clothed in beauty, fascination, and the promise of fulfilment.
The painting balances light against darkness, innocence against danger, creating a world where enchantment and destruction exist side by side.
The Meaning
Lust is often reduced to physical desire, but to me it reaches far beyond that.
Lust is the longing for what we believe will complete us. It is the pursuit of beauty, excitement, possession, power, or perfection. It is the moment when desire begins to cloud judgement, convincing us that fulfilment lies just beyond our reach if only we continue chasing it.
The bubbles drifting through the air embody these fleeting desires. They shimmer with possibility, yet vanish the moment they are grasped.
The Devil does not create the temptation.
He simply waits for desire to become powerful enough to lead us to him.
The painting asks:
When does longing stop inspiring us and begin controlling us?
Behind the Painting
When I began painting Lust, I wasn't interested in creating a story about seduction alone. I wanted to explore the irresistible pull of desire in all its forms.
There is something deeply human about longing for more—for affection, recognition, beauty, success, or experiences that seem just out of reach. Desire itself is not our enemy. It is what drives us to dream, to create, and to seek connection.
But desire becomes dangerous when it blinds us to consequence.
I wanted the fairy to appear completely immersed in her own beautiful world, unaware that darkness patiently surrounds her. The Devil never needs to force temptation upon her because the most powerful temptations are often the ones we willingly follow.
Perhaps that is what lust truly is.
Not simply wanting.
But believing that happiness always exists somewhere beyond the present moment.
Sloth – The Sedentary Life: Contemporary Painting of the Seven Deadly Sins
The Story
The Sloth Fairy reclines comfortably within her oversized seed pod, her delicate wings folded and heavy with indifference. A haze of smoke drifts lazily from her lips, curling through the still air as though time itself has slowed around her. She is perfectly content, untouched by urgency, oblivious to the vibrant garden bursting into life beyond her sanctuary.
Flowers bloom in radiant colour. Insects dance from blossom to blossom. The world continues to grow, flourish and evolve, yet she remains motionless, watching life unfold without ever becoming part of it.
Hidden amongst the shadows, the Devil waits.
A subtle smile crosses his face as serpents coil and writhe at his feet. He knows that he does not need to persuade her. Every moment surrendered to idleness quietly carries her closer to him. She is not being dragged towards darkness; she is simply allowing it to catch up.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the quiet danger of inaction.
The seed pod represents unrealised potential. A seed contains the promise of life, growth and transformation, yet it can remain dormant forever if it is never given the opportunity to flourish. It becomes both a place of comfort and a prison.
The smoke drifting through the air symbolises distraction and escapism, gently clouding awareness while time slips silently away. Around the fairy, the thriving garden celebrates the vitality of life itself, making her stillness all the more striking.
The Devil remains patient, surrounded by serpents that have long symbolised temptation, deceit and decay. His role is not to entice but to observe, knowing that neglect has a way of becoming its own punishment.
The Meaning
Sloth is often mistaken for laziness, but to me it is something far more subtle and far more dangerous.
It is the quiet surrender of possibility.
It is allowing fear, comfort, distraction or self-doubt to convince us that tomorrow will always be a better day to begin. It is watching opportunities pass while convincing ourselves that there is still plenty of time.
The tragedy of sloth is not that nothing happens.
It is that life continues without us.
The Sloth Fairy believes she has found peace, yet what surrounds her is not peace at all. It is stagnation. While the world blossoms with colour and movement, she remains rooted in stillness, unaware that every moment of inaction quietly shapes her future.
The painting asks:
How much of life do we miss while waiting for the perfect moment to begin?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Sloth, I found myself thinking less about laziness and more about the ways we slowly lose ourselves.
There are times when life feels overwhelming, and retreating into comfort can seem like the safest place to be. We distract ourselves, postpone difficult decisions, and tell ourselves that tomorrow will be different. Sometimes those tomorrows become months or even years.
I wanted the fairy to appear peaceful, because that is often how stagnation disguises itself. It rarely announces itself as failure. Instead, it whispers that there is no hurry, that there will always be another opportunity.
The Devil understands this.
He does not need to tempt the Sloth Fairy with riches or promises. He simply waits, because a life left unlived can become its own form of captivity.
To me, Sloth is not about judging those who pause or rest. Rest is essential. It is about recognising the difference between healing and hiding, between restoring ourselves and quietly allowing our potential to wither.
Sometimes the greatest risk is not making the wrong choice.
It is never making one at all.
The Sloth Fairy reclines comfortably within her oversized seed pod, her delicate wings folded and heavy with indifference. A haze of smoke drifts lazily from her lips, curling through the still air as though time itself has slowed around her. She is perfectly content, untouched by urgency, oblivious to the vibrant garden bursting into life beyond her sanctuary.
Flowers bloom in radiant colour. Insects dance from blossom to blossom. The world continues to grow, flourish and evolve, yet she remains motionless, watching life unfold without ever becoming part of it.
Hidden amongst the shadows, the Devil waits.
A subtle smile crosses his face as serpents coil and writhe at his feet. He knows that he does not need to persuade her. Every moment surrendered to idleness quietly carries her closer to him. She is not being dragged towards darkness; she is simply allowing it to catch up.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the quiet danger of inaction.
The seed pod represents unrealised potential. A seed contains the promise of life, growth and transformation, yet it can remain dormant forever if it is never given the opportunity to flourish. It becomes both a place of comfort and a prison.
The smoke drifting through the air symbolises distraction and escapism, gently clouding awareness while time slips silently away. Around the fairy, the thriving garden celebrates the vitality of life itself, making her stillness all the more striking.
The Devil remains patient, surrounded by serpents that have long symbolised temptation, deceit and decay. His role is not to entice but to observe, knowing that neglect has a way of becoming its own punishment.
The Meaning
Sloth is often mistaken for laziness, but to me it is something far more subtle and far more dangerous.
It is the quiet surrender of possibility.
It is allowing fear, comfort, distraction or self-doubt to convince us that tomorrow will always be a better day to begin. It is watching opportunities pass while convincing ourselves that there is still plenty of time.
The tragedy of sloth is not that nothing happens.
It is that life continues without us.
The Sloth Fairy believes she has found peace, yet what surrounds her is not peace at all. It is stagnation. While the world blossoms with colour and movement, she remains rooted in stillness, unaware that every moment of inaction quietly shapes her future.
The painting asks:
How much of life do we miss while waiting for the perfect moment to begin?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Sloth, I found myself thinking less about laziness and more about the ways we slowly lose ourselves.
There are times when life feels overwhelming, and retreating into comfort can seem like the safest place to be. We distract ourselves, postpone difficult decisions, and tell ourselves that tomorrow will be different. Sometimes those tomorrows become months or even years.
I wanted the fairy to appear peaceful, because that is often how stagnation disguises itself. It rarely announces itself as failure. Instead, it whispers that there is no hurry, that there will always be another opportunity.
The Devil understands this.
He does not need to tempt the Sloth Fairy with riches or promises. He simply waits, because a life left unlived can become its own form of captivity.
To me, Sloth is not about judging those who pause or rest. Rest is essential. It is about recognising the difference between healing and hiding, between restoring ourselves and quietly allowing our potential to wither.
Sometimes the greatest risk is not making the wrong choice.
It is never making one at all.
The Seven Deadly Sins Series: Greed – The Opulence – Original Contemporary Artwork by Julia
The Story
Perched upon a fractured pearl that glows beneath the silver light of the moon, the Greedy Little Fairy clutches her treasured golden spheres with unwavering devotion. Their polished surfaces shimmer hypnotically, reflecting the moonlight like precious stars fallen to earth. Hidden beneath the still waters below lies the rest of her hoard, carefully concealed where no one else can reach it.
To her, there is never enough.
No treasure is too great. No collection is ever complete. Every possession offers only a fleeting sense of satisfaction before another desire quietly takes its place.
Watching from the darkness, the Devil waits with quiet certainty. In his hand he holds a single drop of boiling oil—a forewarning of the torment that awaits those consumed by endless want. He does not need to steal her riches. He knows that greed has already imprisoned her long before she reaches his kingdom.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive illusion of possession.
The shattered pearl represents something once pure that has been fractured by obsession. Traditionally a symbol of wisdom, rarity and beauty, it now serves as a throne built upon broken values.
The golden spheres symbolise more than wealth alone. They represent every object of desire that promises fulfilment yet never truly satisfies. Hidden beneath the tranquil water, the fairy's unseen hoard suggests the secrets we accumulate—the possessions, ambitions and insecurities we protect in the hope they will define our worth.
The moonlight casts an enchanting glow across the scene, disguising the darkness that surrounds it. Meanwhile, the Devil remains patient, his drop of boiling oil recalling the punishments described in medieval visions of Hell, where greed ultimately consumes the soul that once sought to possess everything.
The Meaning
Greed is rarely about money alone.
It is the belief that happiness always lies in having just a little more.
More wealth.
More success.
More admiration.
More security.
Greed convinces us that fulfilment is always waiting beyond the next achievement or acquisition. Yet every desire fulfilled soon gives birth to another, leaving us trapped in a cycle where enough is never truly enough.
The Greedy Little Fairy is surrounded by beauty, yet she cannot appreciate it. Her attention remains fixed upon what she owns rather than what she already possesses in life.
The painting asks:
When does the desire to possess something become the thing that possesses us?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Greed, I found myself thinking about the world we have created.
We are constantly encouraged to chase more—more success, more possessions, more recognition, more influence. We celebrate accumulation as though it were the measure of a meaningful life, often forgetting to ask whether any of it truly brings contentment.
The fairy became a reflection of that endless pursuit. She believes her treasures offer safety, identity and happiness, yet every golden sphere she gathers quietly becomes another weight she must carry.
The Devil never needs to persuade her to choose greed.
He simply waits, knowing that an insatiable hunger eventually becomes its own punishment.
To me, Greed is not about condemning ambition or achievement. It is about questioning the moment when our desire to own more prevents us from recognising the richness that already surrounds us.
Sometimes the greatest poverty is not having too little.
It is never believing we have enough.
Perched upon a fractured pearl that glows beneath the silver light of the moon, the Greedy Little Fairy clutches her treasured golden spheres with unwavering devotion. Their polished surfaces shimmer hypnotically, reflecting the moonlight like precious stars fallen to earth. Hidden beneath the still waters below lies the rest of her hoard, carefully concealed where no one else can reach it.
To her, there is never enough.
No treasure is too great. No collection is ever complete. Every possession offers only a fleeting sense of satisfaction before another desire quietly takes its place.
Watching from the darkness, the Devil waits with quiet certainty. In his hand he holds a single drop of boiling oil—a forewarning of the torment that awaits those consumed by endless want. He does not need to steal her riches. He knows that greed has already imprisoned her long before she reaches his kingdom.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the seductive illusion of possession.
The shattered pearl represents something once pure that has been fractured by obsession. Traditionally a symbol of wisdom, rarity and beauty, it now serves as a throne built upon broken values.
The golden spheres symbolise more than wealth alone. They represent every object of desire that promises fulfilment yet never truly satisfies. Hidden beneath the tranquil water, the fairy's unseen hoard suggests the secrets we accumulate—the possessions, ambitions and insecurities we protect in the hope they will define our worth.
The moonlight casts an enchanting glow across the scene, disguising the darkness that surrounds it. Meanwhile, the Devil remains patient, his drop of boiling oil recalling the punishments described in medieval visions of Hell, where greed ultimately consumes the soul that once sought to possess everything.
The Meaning
Greed is rarely about money alone.
It is the belief that happiness always lies in having just a little more.
More wealth.
More success.
More admiration.
More security.
Greed convinces us that fulfilment is always waiting beyond the next achievement or acquisition. Yet every desire fulfilled soon gives birth to another, leaving us trapped in a cycle where enough is never truly enough.
The Greedy Little Fairy is surrounded by beauty, yet she cannot appreciate it. Her attention remains fixed upon what she owns rather than what she already possesses in life.
The painting asks:
When does the desire to possess something become the thing that possesses us?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Greed, I found myself thinking about the world we have created.
We are constantly encouraged to chase more—more success, more possessions, more recognition, more influence. We celebrate accumulation as though it were the measure of a meaningful life, often forgetting to ask whether any of it truly brings contentment.
The fairy became a reflection of that endless pursuit. She believes her treasures offer safety, identity and happiness, yet every golden sphere she gathers quietly becomes another weight she must carry.
The Devil never needs to persuade her to choose greed.
He simply waits, knowing that an insatiable hunger eventually becomes its own punishment.
To me, Greed is not about condemning ambition or achievement. It is about questioning the moment when our desire to own more prevents us from recognising the richness that already surrounds us.
Sometimes the greatest poverty is not having too little.
It is never believing we have enough.
The Seven Deadly Sins Series: Envy – The Self-Absorption – Original Contemporary Artwork
The Story
Perched upon a low-hanging leaf, the Envy Fairy gazes upwards with quiet longing. High above her, another leaf basks effortlessly in warm sunlight, elevated above the forest canopy where it seems to receive all the light, admiration and beauty she believes she has been denied.
Her iridescent wings shimmer as they catch the light, yet she never notices their brilliance. Her eyes remain fixed on what belongs to another.
Far below, concealed within the shadows, the Devil watches with knowing satisfaction. A cruel smile spreads across his face as he holds an icicle within his hand, waiting patiently for envy to do what temptation alone never could. He understands that jealousy has a way of freezing the heart, replacing gratitude with resentment until all warmth is lost.
He does not need to whisper.
Comparison has already begun the work for him.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the quiet destruction of comparison.
The two leaves symbolise two different lives—one seemingly blessed with abundance and recognition, the other convinced it has been overlooked. Yet appearances can be deceptive. The higher leaf is seen only through the eyes of envy, which has a habit of magnifying the blessings of others while diminishing our own.
The surrounding woodland flourishes with life and colour, reminding us that beauty exists everywhere. Ironically, the Envy Fairy is surrounded by richness, yet she is unable to see it because her attention is consumed by what she lacks.
The Devil's icicle represents the emotional coldness that envy creates. It symbolises how bitterness can slowly freeze compassion, gratitude and joy, leaving only resentment in their place.
The Meaning
Envy is not simply wanting what someone else has.
It is believing that their happiness somehow diminishes our own.
There will always be someone who appears more successful, more beautiful, more talented or more fortunate. When we measure our worth against theirs, we begin to lose sight of our own journey.
Comparison steals perspective.
Instead of celebrating our own growth, we become trapped chasing someone else's life.
The Envy Fairy cannot appreciate the beauty of the leaf she already occupies because she is convinced fulfilment exists somewhere above her.
The painting asks:
How often do we overlook our own blessings while longing for someone else's?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Envy, I found myself reflecting on how easily comparison finds its way into our lives.
It is something we all experience. We compare our achievements, our appearance, our relationships, our careers, even our happiness. We convince ourselves that someone else's success somehow highlights our own shortcomings.
Yet envy is a distortion.
It encourages us to see only the brightest moments of another person's life while forgetting the struggles that remain hidden from view.
I wanted the fairy to appear captivated by something that seems just beyond her reach, unaware that she already occupies a world filled with beauty. The Devil understands that he does not need to create dissatisfaction. He simply allows comparison to grow until gratitude quietly disappears.
To me, Envy is not a warning against ambition. Ambition helps us grow. Envy begins when our desire to improve ourselves is replaced by the belief that our worth depends upon what someone else possesses.
Sometimes the greatest tragedy is not that we fail to reach the highest branch.
It is that we never notice the beauty of the one beneath our feet.
Perched upon a low-hanging leaf, the Envy Fairy gazes upwards with quiet longing. High above her, another leaf basks effortlessly in warm sunlight, elevated above the forest canopy where it seems to receive all the light, admiration and beauty she believes she has been denied.
Her iridescent wings shimmer as they catch the light, yet she never notices their brilliance. Her eyes remain fixed on what belongs to another.
Far below, concealed within the shadows, the Devil watches with knowing satisfaction. A cruel smile spreads across his face as he holds an icicle within his hand, waiting patiently for envy to do what temptation alone never could. He understands that jealousy has a way of freezing the heart, replacing gratitude with resentment until all warmth is lost.
He does not need to whisper.
Comparison has already begun the work for him.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting reflects the quiet destruction of comparison.
The two leaves symbolise two different lives—one seemingly blessed with abundance and recognition, the other convinced it has been overlooked. Yet appearances can be deceptive. The higher leaf is seen only through the eyes of envy, which has a habit of magnifying the blessings of others while diminishing our own.
The surrounding woodland flourishes with life and colour, reminding us that beauty exists everywhere. Ironically, the Envy Fairy is surrounded by richness, yet she is unable to see it because her attention is consumed by what she lacks.
The Devil's icicle represents the emotional coldness that envy creates. It symbolises how bitterness can slowly freeze compassion, gratitude and joy, leaving only resentment in their place.
The Meaning
Envy is not simply wanting what someone else has.
It is believing that their happiness somehow diminishes our own.
There will always be someone who appears more successful, more beautiful, more talented or more fortunate. When we measure our worth against theirs, we begin to lose sight of our own journey.
Comparison steals perspective.
Instead of celebrating our own growth, we become trapped chasing someone else's life.
The Envy Fairy cannot appreciate the beauty of the leaf she already occupies because she is convinced fulfilment exists somewhere above her.
The painting asks:
How often do we overlook our own blessings while longing for someone else's?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Envy, I found myself reflecting on how easily comparison finds its way into our lives.
It is something we all experience. We compare our achievements, our appearance, our relationships, our careers, even our happiness. We convince ourselves that someone else's success somehow highlights our own shortcomings.
Yet envy is a distortion.
It encourages us to see only the brightest moments of another person's life while forgetting the struggles that remain hidden from view.
I wanted the fairy to appear captivated by something that seems just beyond her reach, unaware that she already occupies a world filled with beauty. The Devil understands that he does not need to create dissatisfaction. He simply allows comparison to grow until gratitude quietly disappears.
To me, Envy is not a warning against ambition. Ambition helps us grow. Envy begins when our desire to improve ourselves is replaced by the belief that our worth depends upon what someone else possesses.
Sometimes the greatest tragedy is not that we fail to reach the highest branch.
It is that we never notice the beauty of the one beneath our feet.
The Seven Deadly Sins Series: Wrath – The Tempest – Original Contemporary Artwork by Julia
The Story
Hidden within the protective shell of a spiked conker, the Wrath Fairy waits.
Her wings vibrate with barely restrained energy, every feather echoing the storm gathering beneath the surface. Her eyes burn with fierce determination, fixed upon a world she is ready to confront. She is not consumed by a sudden outburst of anger; she is the culmination of countless moments left unresolved, each one adding another layer to the rage she carries.
The conker becomes both sanctuary and prison. It shields her from the world while quietly nurturing the fury within.
Below, concealed in the shadows, the Devil watches with quiet satisfaction. A wicked grin crosses his face as he grips a gleaming machete, knowing that wrath rarely destroys only its intended target. He understands that once anger is unleashed, it can become indiscriminate, leaving devastation in its wake.
He does not provoke her.
He simply waits for the moment she can no longer contain what has been building inside.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the destructive power of unresolved anger.
The spiked conker represents protection, resilience and defence, yet its sharp exterior also reflects the barriers we construct after being hurt. What begins as self-preservation can slowly become isolation, allowing anger to grow unseen within.
The fairy's vibrant wings pulse with energy, symbolising the emotional intensity of wrath. They suggest movement, release and the overwhelming force of emotions that have been held back for too long.
The Devil remains beneath her, holding a machete that represents the irreversible damage anger can inflict once it is allowed to take control. His presence reminds us that wrath often harms the person carrying it as much as those towards whom it is directed.
The painting balances explosive energy with unsettling stillness, capturing the final moment before everything changes.
The Meaning
Wrath is rarely born in a single moment.
It grows quietly.
It begins with hurt that goes unheard, injustice left unresolved, grief that cannot find an outlet, or wounds that are carried for far longer than anyone realises.
Left unspoken, these emotions gather strength until anger becomes the language through which pain finally speaks.
Wrath itself is not evil.
It can protect us, inspire change, and drive us to confront injustice. Yet when anger becomes our only voice, it has the power to consume everything around it, including ourselves.
The Wrath Fairy stands at the edge of that choice.
Will her anger become a force for change, or a force of destruction?
The painting asks:
At what point does anger stop protecting us and begin imprisoning us?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Wrath, I wasn't searching for anger.
I was searching for where anger begins.
Wrath has often been portrayed as an uncontrollable explosion, but I believe it is far more complex than that. Anger rarely appears without reason. It is often born from trauma, disappointment, fear, rejection or injustice. It grows in the places where pain has remained unheard.
As I explored this painting, I found myself searching the furthest corners of my own mind, asking difficult questions about the moments that shape us and the emotions we carry long after others have forgotten them.
Its opposing virtue is patience.
Not because patience suppresses anger, but because patience allows us the space to understand it before it controls us.
This painting became an exploration of that fragile balance between the two.
Perhaps wrath is not the beginning of the story.
Perhaps it is the final chapter of a much older wound.
That is the question I hope this painting leaves with every viewer.
Hidden within the protective shell of a spiked conker, the Wrath Fairy waits.
Her wings vibrate with barely restrained energy, every feather echoing the storm gathering beneath the surface. Her eyes burn with fierce determination, fixed upon a world she is ready to confront. She is not consumed by a sudden outburst of anger; she is the culmination of countless moments left unresolved, each one adding another layer to the rage she carries.
The conker becomes both sanctuary and prison. It shields her from the world while quietly nurturing the fury within.
Below, concealed in the shadows, the Devil watches with quiet satisfaction. A wicked grin crosses his face as he grips a gleaming machete, knowing that wrath rarely destroys only its intended target. He understands that once anger is unleashed, it can become indiscriminate, leaving devastation in its wake.
He does not provoke her.
He simply waits for the moment she can no longer contain what has been building inside.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the destructive power of unresolved anger.
The spiked conker represents protection, resilience and defence, yet its sharp exterior also reflects the barriers we construct after being hurt. What begins as self-preservation can slowly become isolation, allowing anger to grow unseen within.
The fairy's vibrant wings pulse with energy, symbolising the emotional intensity of wrath. They suggest movement, release and the overwhelming force of emotions that have been held back for too long.
The Devil remains beneath her, holding a machete that represents the irreversible damage anger can inflict once it is allowed to take control. His presence reminds us that wrath often harms the person carrying it as much as those towards whom it is directed.
The painting balances explosive energy with unsettling stillness, capturing the final moment before everything changes.
The Meaning
Wrath is rarely born in a single moment.
It grows quietly.
It begins with hurt that goes unheard, injustice left unresolved, grief that cannot find an outlet, or wounds that are carried for far longer than anyone realises.
Left unspoken, these emotions gather strength until anger becomes the language through which pain finally speaks.
Wrath itself is not evil.
It can protect us, inspire change, and drive us to confront injustice. Yet when anger becomes our only voice, it has the power to consume everything around it, including ourselves.
The Wrath Fairy stands at the edge of that choice.
Will her anger become a force for change, or a force of destruction?
The painting asks:
At what point does anger stop protecting us and begin imprisoning us?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Wrath, I wasn't searching for anger.
I was searching for where anger begins.
Wrath has often been portrayed as an uncontrollable explosion, but I believe it is far more complex than that. Anger rarely appears without reason. It is often born from trauma, disappointment, fear, rejection or injustice. It grows in the places where pain has remained unheard.
As I explored this painting, I found myself searching the furthest corners of my own mind, asking difficult questions about the moments that shape us and the emotions we carry long after others have forgotten them.
Its opposing virtue is patience.
Not because patience suppresses anger, but because patience allows us the space to understand it before it controls us.
This painting became an exploration of that fragile balance between the two.
Perhaps wrath is not the beginning of the story.
Perhaps it is the final chapter of a much older wound.
That is the question I hope this painting leaves with every viewer.
Pride – The Self-Centred Essence: Contemporary Painting of the Seven Deadly Sins
The Story
The Pride Fairy sits gracefully upon the magnificent blossom she has lovingly created, her iridescent wings catching the warmth of a radiant pink and amber sky. From her lofty perch she surveys the flourishing landscape below, her expression calm, confident and quietly satisfied.
Every petal has been carefully arranged. Every blossom has been chosen with intention. Her flower stands proudly above all others, not through chance, but through dedication, patience and care. It is her masterpiece.
Far below, hidden within the gathering shadows, the Devil watches.
He waits with knowing patience, convinced that admiration will one day become vanity, confidence will become superiority, and satisfaction will transform into arrogance. In his mind, he already sees the eternal wheel awaiting her, where the weight of pride will eventually demand its own reckoning.
He understands how easily self-belief can become self-importance.
Sometimes the greatest fall begins at the highest point.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the delicate boundary between confidence and conceit.
The magnificent flower symbolises achievement born through creativity, dedication and perseverance. It is not a gift but something cultivated with care, making the fairy's sense of accomplishment understandable.
The warm sky bathes the scene in light, creating an atmosphere of beauty and celebration, while the Devil's shadow introduces an uneasy tension that quietly questions whether admiration of our own achievements can slowly become an obsession with ourselves.
The contrast between light and darkness reminds us that pride is rarely obvious. It often begins as gratitude for what we have achieved before gradually convincing us that our achievements define our worth.
The Devil does not seek to destroy her accomplishments.
He simply waits for them to become the measure of her identity.
The Meaning
Pride is perhaps the most complicated of the Seven Deadly Sins.
Without pride, we would never celebrate our achievements, honour our hard work or recognise our own growth. Healthy pride gives us confidence, resilience and self-respect.
But pride changes when admiration for what we have accomplished becomes a belief that we stand above others.
It whispers that our success makes us more deserving.
That our voice matters more.
That our accomplishments define our value.
The Pride Fairy stands on the edge of that transformation. She has every reason to appreciate the beauty she has created, yet the painting asks whether appreciation can quietly become superiority if left unchecked.
The painting asks:
When does confidence stop inspiring us and begin separating us from others?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Pride, I found myself thinking about the fine line between confidence and arrogance.
As artists, we are encouraged to believe in our work. We spend countless hours learning, refining our skills and creating something deeply personal. There is nothing wrong with feeling proud of what we have achieved.
In fact, I think we should.
The danger begins when our identity becomes inseparable from our achievements. When we seek admiration more than meaning. When recognition becomes more important than the work itself.
I wanted the Pride Fairy to appear neither cruel nor boastful. Instead, she sits quietly within the beauty she has created, allowing the viewer to decide whether she is celebrating her accomplishments or becoming consumed by them.
The Devil understands that pride rarely arrives as arrogance.
It often begins with something far more innocent.
A moment of well-deserved satisfaction.
Perhaps the greatest challenge is not learning to take pride in ourselves.
Perhaps it is remembering that our worth has never depended upon standing above someone else.
The Pride Fairy sits gracefully upon the magnificent blossom she has lovingly created, her iridescent wings catching the warmth of a radiant pink and amber sky. From her lofty perch she surveys the flourishing landscape below, her expression calm, confident and quietly satisfied.
Every petal has been carefully arranged. Every blossom has been chosen with intention. Her flower stands proudly above all others, not through chance, but through dedication, patience and care. It is her masterpiece.
Far below, hidden within the gathering shadows, the Devil watches.
He waits with knowing patience, convinced that admiration will one day become vanity, confidence will become superiority, and satisfaction will transform into arrogance. In his mind, he already sees the eternal wheel awaiting her, where the weight of pride will eventually demand its own reckoning.
He understands how easily self-belief can become self-importance.
Sometimes the greatest fall begins at the highest point.
The Symbolism
Every element within the painting explores the delicate boundary between confidence and conceit.
The magnificent flower symbolises achievement born through creativity, dedication and perseverance. It is not a gift but something cultivated with care, making the fairy's sense of accomplishment understandable.
The warm sky bathes the scene in light, creating an atmosphere of beauty and celebration, while the Devil's shadow introduces an uneasy tension that quietly questions whether admiration of our own achievements can slowly become an obsession with ourselves.
The contrast between light and darkness reminds us that pride is rarely obvious. It often begins as gratitude for what we have achieved before gradually convincing us that our achievements define our worth.
The Devil does not seek to destroy her accomplishments.
He simply waits for them to become the measure of her identity.
The Meaning
Pride is perhaps the most complicated of the Seven Deadly Sins.
Without pride, we would never celebrate our achievements, honour our hard work or recognise our own growth. Healthy pride gives us confidence, resilience and self-respect.
But pride changes when admiration for what we have accomplished becomes a belief that we stand above others.
It whispers that our success makes us more deserving.
That our voice matters more.
That our accomplishments define our value.
The Pride Fairy stands on the edge of that transformation. She has every reason to appreciate the beauty she has created, yet the painting asks whether appreciation can quietly become superiority if left unchecked.
The painting asks:
When does confidence stop inspiring us and begin separating us from others?
Behind the Painting
When I painted Pride, I found myself thinking about the fine line between confidence and arrogance.
As artists, we are encouraged to believe in our work. We spend countless hours learning, refining our skills and creating something deeply personal. There is nothing wrong with feeling proud of what we have achieved.
In fact, I think we should.
The danger begins when our identity becomes inseparable from our achievements. When we seek admiration more than meaning. When recognition becomes more important than the work itself.
I wanted the Pride Fairy to appear neither cruel nor boastful. Instead, she sits quietly within the beauty she has created, allowing the viewer to decide whether she is celebrating her accomplishments or becoming consumed by them.
The Devil understands that pride rarely arrives as arrogance.
It often begins with something far more innocent.
A moment of well-deserved satisfaction.
Perhaps the greatest challenge is not learning to take pride in ourselves.
Perhaps it is remembering that our worth has never depended upon standing above someone else.
Sins & Virtues — The Earlier Works
An idea I couldn't quite leave alone.
Long before I began my current Seven Deadly Sins paintings, I had already returned to sin and virtue again and again.
The House of Sin and Virtue. The Carnival of Sin. The Seven Deadly Fairy Sins.
Each approached the same ancient ideas from a completely different direction. Sometimes playful, sometimes beautiful, sometimes dark, they became different ways of looking at temptation, consequence and the contradictions in human behaviour.
I didn't realise at the time that I was still working towards something.
These earlier collections weren't preliminary sketches for the paintings I would eventually create. They were complete works in their own right. But looking back, I can see the questions becoming more complicated each time.
What makes something sinful?
Where does temptation end and choice begin?
And are the Seven Deadly Sins really as simple as we have been taught to believe?
Years later, those questions would pull me back once again and lead to my much larger Seven Deadly Sins and Seven Heavenly Virtues collection.
But this is where that long fascination began to take shape.
The House of Sin & The House of Virtue — 2006
Where My Exploration of Sin and Virtue Began
The House of Sin and The House of Virtue were my first real exploration of the Seven Deadly Sins and their opposing virtues.
Painted in 2006, they are much more literal than the way I approach these subjects today. I wasn't yet pulling apart the morality or questioning what actually makes something sinful. I simply wanted to give the sins and virtues somewhere to live.
And so I built them each a house.
The House of Sin is a wonderfully crooked, decadent house of debauchery. Each of the seven sins occupies its own window, with Pride at the very top and Envy at the bottom. Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath and Lust inhabit the rooms between, each absorbed in their particular vice.
Even the landscape has been infected by them. The strange trees surrounding the house represent the sins too, allowing their influence to escape from the windows and take root outside.
Then came its opposite.
The House of Virtue uses essentially the same idea, but the world has completely changed.
Here the house contains Patience, Temperance, Kindness, Humility, Chastity, Diligence and Charity. Instead of the rich, unruly vegetation surrounding the House of Sin, the landscape is barren and stark. The trees have disappeared and small shrubs represent the virtues instead.
It is quieter. Paler. More restrained.
And perhaps that contrast is one of the most interesting things about looking back at these paintings now.
Sin got all the fun.
The sinful world is colourful, excessive and full of temptation, while virtue appears controlled and almost austere. I wasn't trying to make a complicated philosophical argument at the time — these were deliberately literal interpretations — but even here I was playing with the fact that temptation has to be tempting.
Why else would anyone be tempted by it?
Twenty years later, my approach to the Seven Deadly Sins has become considerably less certain. I now question the boundary between sin and ordinary human behaviour, and whether the virtues themselves are always quite as virtuous as they appear.
But those questions hadn't arrived yet.
In 2006, I was at the beginning.
I had built Sin a house.
I had built Virtue one next door.
And apparently, I wasn't finished with either of them.
The Carnival of Sin
Sin Gets a Sense of Humour
After The House of Sin and Virtue, I returned to the Seven Deadly Sins again — but this time I decided to have some fun with them.
The Carnival of Sin is a deliberately playful, tongue-in-cheek and rather cheeky interpretation of the seven sins, with each one represented by a famous celebrity.
Rather than placing them inside a house, I constructed the artwork as a giant jigsaw puzzle, with seven individually shaped pieces forming one larger work.
There was no great moral interrogation going on here. I was playing with character, reputation, popular culture and the delicious possibilities of deciding which famous face might belong to which deadly sin.
The result became exactly what the title suggests: a carnival.
Colourful, theatrical, mischievous and slightly wicked.
The individual identities and all the naughty little details are best discovered in the gallery — because explaining every joke here would rather spoil the fun.
The Seven Deadly Fairy Sins
When Sin Became Beautiful
After the Carnival of Sin, I still wasn't finished with the Seven Deadly Sins.
This time, I wanted to hide them somewhere rather less obvious.
I chose fairies.
Beautiful, delicate and apparently innocent, they seemed the perfect creatures through which to explore temptation. Because temptation rarely announces itself as something ugly or dangerous. More often, it arrives dressed as something we want.
Each of the seven watercolour and ink paintings represents one of the Seven Deadly Sins, surrounded by a world of flowers, plants and natural details that quietly continue its story.
But these aren't entirely innocent fairy tales.
The Devil is never far away. He lurks within each painting, waiting patiently for the fairy's indulgence to catch up with her — and with a punishment particularly suited to her sin.
There is still humour here, and plenty of mischief, but something had begun to change.
With the Houses I had given sin somewhere to live.
With the Carnival I had laughed at it.
With the Fairies, I began to think about how seductive it could be.
I still wasn't questioning sin in the way I would years later, but I was beginning to look beyond the label and towards the temptation itself.
And the Seven Deadly Sins still weren't finished with me.
I wasn't finished with Sin.
Collection Details
The Seven Deadly Fairy Sins
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Medium: Watercolour and ink
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Surface: Premium 300gsm acid-free watercolour paper
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Artwork Size: Approximately 500 × 710 mm
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Framing: Sold unframed. Museum-grade glass is recommended to help preserve colour vibrancy and reduce glare.
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Prints: Limited edition prints available
The House of Sin & The House of Virtue
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Medium: Oil on canvas
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Artwork Size: Approximately 970 × 1590 mm each
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Framing: Framed
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Prints: Limited edition prints available
The Carnival of Sin
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Medium: Oil on canvas board
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Artwork Size: Approximately 1300 × 1730 mm
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Framing: Sold as displayed
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Prints: Limited edition prints coming soon
Purchasing Original Artwork
For most of my career, I have been far more interested in making the work than selling it. I was never in any great hurry to part with my paintings, and many have remained with me for years.
The problem is, I haven't stopped making them.
And after more than twenty years of painting and creating, I have finally reached the rather unavoidable conclusion that I simply have too much art.
So, for the first time, I am actively opening up my collection and offering these works for sale.
All of the original artworks featured in these collections are currently available to purchase. Each is a one-of-a-kind original by Julia O'Sullivan, and once an original leaves my collection, there will never be another.
Tempted? Good. That was rather the point.
Perhaps it's time one of them stopped living with me and started living with you.
Shipping & Returns
United Kingdom
Complimentary personal hand delivery is available wherever practical, allowing me to ensure your artwork arrives safely and in perfect condition.
International Collectors
Worldwide shipping is available. Shipping costs, customs duties and local taxes are the responsibility of the buyer.
Every artwork is carefully packaged and sent using tracked delivery, and I will work directly with you throughout the shipping process to ensure your artwork arrives safely.
Returns
Original artworks may be returned within 14 days of delivery, provided they remain in their original, pristine condition.
Return shipping costs are the responsibility of the purchaser and are non-refundable. Refunds will be processed following inspection of the returned artwork in accordance with my Returns Policy.
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