The Liminal collection plays with memory and imagination and the space that lies between. Two of these drawings were included as part of 'Imaginarium' 2025, a multi disciplinary installation investigating transformation, duality, and the hidden narratives embedded in the world around us, often reflecting on socio-economic culture. The pieces look at moments of both harmony and tension that form our everyday experience, revealing connections that might otherwise go unnoticed. This project examines the shifting identity of place, the interplay of natural geometry and perspective and how shapes can play tricks with our mind. Using waste material sculptures to cast shadow shapes, the drawing evolved into extroplated interpretations, leading to recicprocal making of new sculptures. Intuitive compositions blend expressive mark-making, layered perspectives, and vibrant contrasts of form and colour bringing energy to the work.

This body of work explores the uneasy dialogue between human progress and the persistence of the natural world. The triptych (Reclaimed Earth) anchors the series with a sense of scale and turbulence, drawing on Turner’s paintings of industrialisation settling into the landscape and 'progress', while holding open the possibility of renewal.

“Turner’s Afterglow / No Fixed Horizon / Darkling Ground” is a triptych of large-scale abstractions that reflects on the uneasy accretion of contemporary development across the West Sussex landscape and beyond. These works use layered mark and structure to examine how building, planning and infrastructure inscribe themselves across land.

Formally, the three paintings trade between rectilinear, engineered gestures and flowing, organic passages: a scaffolding of lines and bands is repeatedly threaded through luminous, vegetal sweeps. The result is a visual tension between imposition and persistence, constructions that attempt to organise and erase, and the softer edges of growth that reassert themselves in the seams. The paintings are intentionally mutable in perception (one canvas resists a single orientation), suggesting that landscape is never fixed; its reading shifts with angle and hour, as does the balance of harm and recovery.

Alongside these larger works, a series of smaller panels act as glimpses or fragments, like field notes caught in passing. These more intimate pieces echo the language of the triptych but condense it, offering momentary impressions of terrain, weather, and trace. Taken together, the collection moves between the monumental and the miniature, questioning how landscapes are claimed, altered, and remembered, and whether nature, despite all, continues to find its way through.

Materially and conceptually, the works consider speed and change. The plasticity and immediacy of acrylic paint, its capacity for quick layering, scraping and translucent glazes, is deliberately employed as a metaphor for rapid development and the transient, often aggressive, rhythms of progress. Yet within those hurried marks the slow logic of accretion is visible: histories of overpainting, revision and return that echo the continuing, sometimes hopeful persistence of nature.

This collection traces the transformation of a workshop site into a garden, a shift from labour and demolition towards ecology and renewal. Along the way, overlooked presences became central: scaffolding casting improbable silhouettes, wheelbarrows stacked and repurposed, bags of rubble accumulating like temporary monuments. Ordinary tools, fleeting in their utility, seemed to hold both memory and possibility.

The paintings are not depictions but layered impressions. Transparent washes, scaffold-like grids, and gestural sweeps mark out a place in flux, caught between dismantling and reimagining. The palette moves from the bright, acidic tones of spring growth pressing against residue, to the darker registers of night, when forms dissolve into shadow.

Together, the works map a threshold, between industry and nature, memory and renewal, function and imagination. They dwell in the tension of a tipping point: the fragile moment when a site becomes something else.