Artist and printmaker Tom Frost swapped the bustle of Bristol for the calm of Carmarthenshire, finding creative clarity on the Welsh coastline
Words – Susie Atkinson
We live near the Pembrokeshire border, in rural Wales, and the magnificent Carmarthenshire coast is always there, always calling. I am lucky enough to work from a studio at home, printmaking, designing, painting – and I love it.
I studied illustration at Falmouth College of Arts, which is probably where this whole journey began. Falmouth, in Cornwall, was a magical place to live and study – three beaches, tropical gardens, and a whole world of creative people. My friends back home were talking about pints for a pound and lectures in city centres and I was sketching in hidden coves and falling asleep to the sound of waves.
When I left Falmouth, I moved back to Bristol and worked as an illustrator for a decade. Most of my work then was digital, commercial stuff. It was a living, but I knew something was missing. I wanted ink on my fingers again. I wanted to make things by hand. So I started printmaking.
MAKING THE MOVE
Twelve years ago, my partner Teresa and I moved to Wales. It was a big shift, but a good one. She’s also an artist – we met at Falmouth – and now we both work from home, juggling school runs, deadlines, and the occasional biscuit emergency, but the hills are full of birds, and the beaches are just down the road. Our children are growing up bilingual – they both speak Welsh fluently, as our village is Welsh-speaking.
I always say Wales is like a village. Everyone seems to know everyone, and when we first moved here, I found myself working with local creatives almost straight away. I started collaborating with The Pembrokeshire Beach Food Company, Barti Ddu Rum, and small galleries on the coast. One of my favourite jobs was designing the labels for Barti Rum. It’s made with seaweed, so the whole brand has that coastal feel. Alongside the labels, I ended up creating prints and T-shirts. It all ties in.
THE COASTAL LIFE
The coast seeps into my work. Sometimes directly – seabirds are a recurring theme, and I love the shapes and silhouettes of puffins, oystercatchers, and gannets. There’s a beautiful simplicity to birds, especially in flight. But it’s also about the feeling. The stillness. That clean slate you get from standing on a beach, staring out to the horizon.
We spend a lot of time by the sea as a family. I’m not a surfer or a paddleboarder, but I do love a good swim. We sea swim and river swim when it’s bearable. My kids adore it. They’re hardy, enthusiastic, and always up for a splash. Sometimes we just go to sit and eat sandwiches. Sometimes it’s a big adventure.
Favourite beaches? Too many to name. But I love Marloes, and there are secret ones I won’t tell you about! The joy of the Welsh coast is that even in the summer, you can find a quiet spot. A little cove all to yourself. That matters. Creatively, the sea acts like a reset button. I can be stuck on an idea all day, then go for a walk along the coast path, and bam – there it is. It’s like nature does half the work for you. I’ll get back to the studio buzzing.
MAKING ART
My print process is fairly hands-on. I sketch ideas, think in layers, then create each colour layer on acetate before I burn it onto screens using photo emulsion. It’s methodical and a little magical. It keeps me grounded. I love working with wood, too, creating 3D pieces – what I jokingly call ‘vegan taxidermy’. That’s inspired by my great-great-great-grandfather, who was a naturalist and taxidermist in Norfolk. His work’s in Norwich Museum.
And I suppose the sea comes into that too – in the birds I choose, in the sense of timelessness I try to bring into each piece. Something you’d want to keep. Not just a trend.
I’ve had the joy of exhibiting all over the UK, but coastal shows have a special place in my heart. A few years back, I had a solo exhibition at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park, where I first started exploring 3D wooden bird pieces – kind of a nod to my great-great-great-grandfather.
Next year, I’ve got a show lined up at the Scottish Ornithological Society’s gallery near Edinburgh – it’s this stunning space overlooking the wetlands. I’ll be exhibiting coastal birds, prints and some of my ‘vegan taxidermy’ pieces! Being by the sea – even just temporarily – adds something different to the work. It gives it space to breathe.
FURTHER AFIELD
Every so often, I swap the Welsh coast for somewhere even wilder – the Arctic Circle. I’ve been lucky enough to teach printmaking at a remote hotel in the Lofoten Islands, North Norway, surrounded by sea, snow and silence. It’s part of a culinary retreat called Kitchen on the Edge of the World, and I’ve shared it with some brilliant people – chefs like Rick Stein, Angela Hartnett and Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. We eat incredible food, go hiking or fishing by day, and I run screen printing workshops in between. It’s rugged, windswept, and completely exhilarating – the kind of place that fills the creative tank for years to come.
But I always love to come home – and Wales feels like home now. My dad was Welsh, from Cardiff, and while I grew up in Bristol, I’ve always felt connected to this place. My son was born in England but has grown up here. My daughter was born in front of the wood burner in our Welsh village. When we drive back from trips away and cross the border, there’s always that feeling of belonging.
I may not live with sand in my socks every day, but the coast is never far from my mind. And it continues to inspire – not just what I make, but how I live. There’s a rhythm to it, a generosity. And in a world full of noise, I’ll take a tide-washed headspace any day.
To find out more information about Tom Frost’s work, visit his website and online shop at theboyfrost.bigcartel.com and follow him on Instagram @theboyfrost.
