I always hope that the finished work feels alive and in flux—that what it is never quite comes into focus and can reveal different facets over time. I want my paintings to hold a density of experience, built up through an accumulation of marks over many sittings.

When working from life, I concentrate on areas that excite something in me. I trust that I can gradually build up these moments into a coherent painting, whether it stays true to the original reference or shifts into something else.

During Covid, I began a series of breath-directed drawings. Moving from left to right, top to bottom, I build rhythmic, binary marks across the paper in a continuous flow. One mark corresponds to an inhale, the other to an exhale. The resulting tapestry of movement and texture is determined by my breath, growing organically from it. These drawings are both spatial and temporal—visual records of time passing, broken into increments of presence.
This work is deeply informed by my lifelong interest in mindfulness and the concept of the present moment.

The Colour Grid Paintings are abstractions of places, moods, and moments, using the structure of a grid as an organising principle. Through colour and rhythm, they become visual equivalents of musical compositions.
While the grid imposes a structural constraint, I am conscious of preserving the human, hand-made qualities of the work. There is a deliberate tension between the rigid framework and the organic, fallible nature of the painted marks within it.
My colour choices are deeply considered, shaped by the overarching theme of each work but also influenced by the colours adjacent to the square I’m working on. The pigments I use are of the highest quality, and I find the process of mixing them on my palette meditative. Each colour has a radiant beauty of its own, and, much like musical notes, I enjoy discovering how they “sound” when placed in relation to one another. Unlike music, however, where notes unfold over time, a painting allows the entire composition to be perceived in a single instant—time made visible in space.

I am captivated by the way a two-dimensional surface can compress something multidimensional—how a single painting can hold time and space within its frame. The entire history of its making exists in one moment, one place; a neat block of thought, ready to be unpacked gradually by the viewer.

My commissioned work often aims to playfully acknowledge the camera-distorted nature of its reference imagery. 

In some works, I am moved by complex feelings. That complexity is what is interesting and fun to work through—an untangling that happens on the canvas.