In the Landscape

The landscape and nature is grounding.
The landscape invites me to physically navigate it, drawing me away from being too confined within my own head.
The landscape allows me to be aware of the elements external to myself and my thoughts.
The landscape acts as a mirror, reflecting patterns in myself, inviting and allowing me to make intimate physical and emotional connections.
The landscape connects me to my own history, the person I was and my ancestry.
The landscape allows me to shift my perspective and to feel present in my own body.

Drawing and Painting

From these experiences, my drawings and paintings grow out of my daily practice of making photographs whilst out walking and paying attention to the landscape.
Painting becomes a way of grounding these experiences, translating fleeting sensations. Presence turns to mark, pattern and layered colour.
The works carry both memory and immediacy: they are not literal records, but impressions of what it feels like to be in a place, moment by moment.
They are, at the same time, both transcendent and immanent.
A single figure often appears, seen from behind as silhouette, suggestion or shadow — a reminder of how we are placed in, belong to and connect with the land.
They are invitations to pause, look, investigate, reflect, rediscover, connect and balance.

Mark Making

Fundamentally I am a mark maker.
My mark making is perhaps a kind of personal prose.
I’m literate in this tongue.
My marks are, at the same time, both spontaneous and considered.
I mark the surface so that it speaks, hums, sings, resonates.
My marks are simple translations, rephrasing, decoding, rendering.
They are transliterations of experience — adaptations or elucidations of what I see, what I think I see, what I want to see, or what I think might be hidden under or behind the surface.
My marks and gestures attempt to be independent and self-referential, yet they are also shepherded by my mind’s tendency to scan and order into some form of representation.

Transfiguration through Colour

In my work, colour rarely mirrors what is seen. The hues often feel slightly out of place in the context of the landscape, as if they have drifted in from elsewhere.
Through this departure, the image becomes something transformed — a transfiguration of this world. The landscape remains familiar, yet altered; it hovers between recognition and mystery.
Colour becomes a way of seeing anew, of allowing the ordinary terrain to reveal something deeper, more inward, more alive.