This is an excerpt from my book The Garden Room, and includes some images not seen before…

words & photography: Hannah Puechmarin

Framed by a white rambling rose in full bloom, a set of traditional French doors provides a warm welcome into the artistic retreat of a painter who translates garden memories into dreamscapes. Away from the distractions of everyday life, a connection with the garden permeates her studio, which is hidden within the upper terrace of a romantic English-style garden in the Adelaide Hills.

What was once a large hay shed surrounded by fields of grazing sheep is now a calming minimalist sanctuary enclosed with reclaimed doors and windows, the walls awash with white. Here, Morgan Allender spends most of her time, ensconced in the garden, contemplating her next brushstroke.

The studio's gradual renovation spanned more than a decade. While its current form is a far cry from its humble beginnings with a dirt floor and no windows, a few remnants of its original structure remain. Opting to leave the metal roof trusses exposed, the soaring ceilings enhance the serenity of the space.

Along the southern wall, sash windows allow gentle natural light and birdsong to flood the large open-plan room. Outward, there are verdant views of the established garden below. The paned glass lends an old-world feel to the studio, in keeping with the rest of the house and garden, a property that was first established in the late 1850s.

A love for flowers and nature overflows into the studio. A palpable passion that is not only infused into Morgan's canvas artworks but also evoked in the heavy stacks of books referencing gardens and art that adorn tables throughout the room. Many are bookmarked with hot pink Post-it notes for future rumination.

On a table beneath the windows, other publications and sources of inspiration are gathered. A few snips of grasses and a stem of pale purple aquilegia are momentarily preserved in a simple glass bottle. Accompanying the candid arrangement is a large, upturned shell – another subject that features regularly alongside the whimsical flowers in Morgan's painterly reflections.

Morgan's art process involves time spent considering her current works as well as refuelling her mind and body through meditation and yoga. As such, she has arranged a handful of comfortable vantage points in which to relax about the studio, including an old quilt-covered sofa and an armchair draped with a block-printed tablecloth bought on travels overseas. Visible throughout the studio are her pastel-hued works-in-progress – over a metre in height and width – resting on easels and hanging on walls.

The terraced garden below the studio has been thoughtfully designed, with layers of established trees and shrubs that now invite their own microclimate. This too has been a long-term project over the last fifteen years. After living interstate for several years, Morgan and her partner Justin returned to the Hills, where she grew up, in order to have space to grow a garden. But when they first bought the property there was not much of a garden to speak of.

Pitchforks in hand, they set to work by turning over the earth to create new garden beds. To their surprise, purple aquilegia burst from dormant seeds in the soil and to this day, this curious flower happily grows rampant, the colours ever-changing as the bees cross-pollinate the colourways. It is a flower that often features in her paintings.

They were also fortunate to inherit a handful of mature trees, around which they structured their garden. Morgan's favourite tree is particularly charming—a hawthorn that bursts with white blossom each October – boasting odd-angled limbs given strength by lengths of turned timber, a wicker outdoor setting parked casually beneath. Most likely, this tree is as old as the house itself.

Nowadays, the garden has become a leafy refuge within a landscape of fields and eucalypts on the surrounding hills, striking a perfect balance between rambling and structured. The mid-spring garden is blooming with old-fashioned roses and climbing clematis, while jewel-toned aquilegia and Shasta daisies nod serenely in the crisp air. Self-sown hollyhocks and Queen Anne's lace soar upwards and catch the spring breeze between more deliberate plantings.

At the awakening of dawn, the insects and birds that now call the garden home greet the new day with a shrill chorus. With a cup of tea in hand, Morgan ascends the backlit perennial path, passing through a forged iron gate to the studio early each morning. She collects a few garden tokens along the way and takes mental notes, with a future painting in mind.