A room at the end of a lane.

Linda Kane has painted from the same studio since 2009 — a single long room behind a joinery, with north light at one end and a press at the other. She trained as a printmaker, came to painting late, and still approaches a canvas the way a printer approaches a plate: in layers, with a lot of removal.

The work is abstract but not arbitrary. Each series begins with a place — a harbour, a wall, an hour of the afternoon — and then spends a year getting further away from it. By the time a painting is finished the subject has usually gone, and what is left is a temperature and a structure.

She works in oil on linen for the larger canvases, acrylic and squeegee for the faster ones, and oil on small boards at the end of a day when there is paint left on the palette. Those small boards, which she calls the offcuts, are the pieces visitors ask about most.

The store came later and by accident. Cards printed as thank-you notes for collectors turned into a run for a local shop; a habit of stringing beads while paintings dried turned into a bench. None of it is licensed or manufactured elsewhere — if it is on this site, it was made in that room.