Hard Edge glass art blog

This journal explores how colour, light, and geometry shape the way we feel in the spaces we live with every day. These pieces are not theoretical essays, and they are not decorative tips. They are written to make something familiar suddenly clearer. Why a room feels calm but unfinished. Why another feels impressive but distant. Why a small change can quietly transform how a space supports you. Hard Edge glass works with these questions at their emotional root, not by adding more, but by tuning what is already there.

Most high end interiors are designed to be quiet. Soft palettes. Calm materials. Stillness. But even the most restrained home needs one voice. Hard Edge glass brings colour, clarity, and living light into a space without breaking its calm.

Here’s a selection of my glass artworks from 2025 - not everything I created, but a flavour of the year. From cathedral arches and botanical blooms to flamingos, portraits and toucans, it has been a year full of variety. Each piece tells its own story of memory, celebration, connection and joy.

Britain’s influence on the global art world runs deeper than auctions and celebrity names. This piece explores why Britain remains quietly powerful, and how independent studios and Hard Edge glass commissions speak to collectors who value clarity, depth, and lasting confidence.

A trophy repeats what others have already chosen. A commission becomes something that could never exist without you. That’s why art collectors who value depth and identity are moving in this direction.

Women are shaping the future of art collecting. Not through spectacle, but through meaning. This piece explores why women collectors are drawn to strong colour, emotional clarity, and work that feels personal, honest, and quietly powerful.

When you first look at a piece of Linda’s art glass you notice something. There’s a clarity of colour. A precision of form. A sense of balance that holds your gaze. Then you look again. And you see more. What gives it its force? How does beauty move from the surface of the art to something deeper inside you?

I’m told people use art to validate their identity because art gives shape to what you feel but can’t explain. This is intriguing. Read the blog and see how much of yourself you might see in it.

Picture this: Molten sand, fire, colour, air, all transformed into a shimmering vessel of light. From its earliest days, glass has carried something more than utility. It carried prestige. It carried wonder. It carried what we might call magic.

Last week’s Grand Prize Draw became more than a raffle - it turned into a shared experience. With heartfelt reactions, joyful winners, and new discoveries, it showed how art comes alive when people take part.

Maybe not you, but millions of people open gifts that miss the mark. The wrong colour. The wrong style. The wrong emotion. Discover the gift that can never be wrong.

Every Sunday night in Britain, millions tune into Fake or Fortune to see journalist Fiona Bruce and international art dealer Philip Mould uncover whether a painting is priceless or worthless. The show is a hit because it dramatises the central question every collector quietly asks: “Will this piece of art hold its value, or even rise?”

The joy of reimagining lies in taking an existing idea and reshaping it into something uniquely yours. Through colour, form, and collaboration, a glass artwork becomes not just made for you - but made with you.

Walk into almost any stylish home this year and you'll see what designers call rich, grounding tones. Did you know these tones are full of black? There's black everywhere. You don’t see it straight away. It hides inside the pigments. Designers know this. But why?

Talk to most seasoned collectors about glass, and you’ll often hear the same polite pause, the kind that says, “Beautiful, but not for me.” Glass is misunderstood.

Art galleries come in for a lot of flak these days, some justifiable, and some definitely unfair. So we want to take a look at the role of the gallery in today’s online world.