Hope lives and works in Glasgow, UK. They are a multidisciplinary artist and tattooist with a distinct illustrative and graphic style. They are a recent graduate of the MLitt Contemporary Art Practice programme at Glasgow School of Art. They previously studied Graphic Design for Publishing (2015) at Norwich University of the Arts. They have since returned and taught at NUA as a guest lecturer, been an active participant in QUEER Fest Norwich (2021-2025), as well as a featured Artist in Norfolk and Norwich Arts Festival (2022) for the AD/DRESSING the City Campaign. More recently featured at Synthesis WAVE II at SWG3 Glasgow (2026).

See Hope’s work as part of Here’s One I Made Earlier, a group show featuring contemporary artists working in Glasgow. Brought together on the Master of Letters course at Glasgow School of Art, these artists share a commitment to thinking-through-making, exploring, and articulating their ideas visually and materially. Featuring sculpture, painting, printmaking, and more, this collection offers an insight into the breadth of art being made in Glasgow right now.

Hi Hope! Can you walk us through your creative process? RESEARCHRESEARCHRESEARCH! I collect like a magpie and feverishly build a nest of imagery, articles, poetry, history, notes, madness, until I’m ready to start scratching at a piece of paper. I try to draw everyday and keep my skills sharp but when it comes to a project of my own, chaos! It takes some ruminating. Commission work [which for me is usually logo or brand identity related] is a lot easier. It’s almost the exact opposite. I’ll work off a gut instinct and then build out from there.

How do you overcome creative blocks?
Reality TV. Touch grass. Anything that isn’t art related or art adjacent. I take myself away and try to stay off social media. Reading helps me – escapism.

What advice would you give to artists who are just starting out?
Be kind to yourself and give yourself a break. I think it’s important to turn up for it as you would your “bread and butter” job, but it’s ok to take a minute to regroup, get inspired, and stay off the for-you-doom-scroll.

Will your next project be a continuation of your current style or are you experimenting with something different?
Missing 1998, is a glimpse of my next project. This is a reimagining of a photograph of me and Pootal (the cat). I’m about 6-years-old in the photo but I was struck by the sparse walls, the paper plate I’m eating off, the covers on the sofa arms to hide the wear and tear; Looking at that image of myself 28 years later I saw a bigger picture. I’ve been working a lot around belonging, Britishness and what it is to be working-class, and I landed at a more sentimental place from my Post-Grad showcase. I’m working on a series of paintings relating to my Nan’s house. I recently found out that house was sold and I will probably never get to see a lot of those items again, or smell its stale, comforting scent (rose water, musky woollen jumpers and old cigarettes.) That struck a cord with me. This work feels more exposing, more vulnerable. Something I need to work through, but still under the same umbrella as before.

What emotions or reactions do you hope viewers experience when they see your artwork?
I always want people to laugh. But I hope they linger longer and maybe feel a deep prang of something more sinister or more melancholic.

Can you elaborate on the significance or symbolism of the chosen title of your work? Missing 1998: the 1998 bit is really easy to explain. That’s the year the original photo was taken. Missing, I wanted to evoke a sense of longing, and remain kind of ambiguous. Am I addressing the cat? Has someone died? Who’s missing? What’s missing? What are you missing? I hope to imply that there’s an emptiness there. Grief even. That, and, I literally took me out of the image. In the original photograph I’m presenting as an infant “girl” and I love her, and she’s so important to me, she literally is me, but that little girl is missing now. She been absorbed and taken on new meaning. I view her more as a role in a play or a character out of a novel. She’s something that my family have clunk onto and I’ve pulled away from – this great undulating space between me and this family I’m no longer a member of.

How do you know when a piece is complete?
[GREAT QUESTION!] I never know. It has to be an instinct… how shit is that answer? I think my paintings are often so hodge-podge and are meant to look unfinished it really is hard to tow the line. I have to get to a point where I’m like “right that’s it! no more!”, usually I’ll be obsessing over one corner or I want to put something else in or fill in that sofa cushion. I have to fight myself to stop fucking with it before it becomes too over worked and looses it’s freedom. Maybe, this would be a better question for the viewer.

Find out more about Hope’s work on their website or connect with them on Instagram.