I am interested in making paintings that don’t need walls. I use a modular system that allows me to travel using public transport. I can recycle the individual components to make new configurations and build my paintings where I take them. I make them weatherproof and give them wheels and frames so I can take them wherever they need to go. I want to see how my paintings can relate to people and places in new ways. 

I am trying to find a way to make ‘useful’ paintings. I feel as motivated by this search for a sense of purpose as I am by an inescapable sense of the futility in ever finding it. As such my paintings tend to act as waymarkers for things that don’t really need to be signposted, or else assemble to make life-size 3D replicas of unremarkable places, like carpark bays, storage cupboards, public toilet cubicles or corners of rooms or offices.

I draw inspiration from the palette, typography and pared-down simplicity of the British comic books I grew up reading. I am drawn to how these comics found a way to idealise a dispirited 1970’s Britain using bright flat colours and clean lines. I think the attempt to take something quite ordinary and prettify it for the purpose of entertainment is an amusing, albeit oversimplified, analogy when trying to describe the act of painting.

Ultimately, I am interested in the extended life of my paintings, in the difference between their passive and active states and how they might move between the two. I still feel the gallery is an important site for encountering work but I am curious to know how to adapt my paintings to other spaces, as theatre sets, community hubs or even selfie-backdrops, for example.

(Last updated: sep 2025)