I grew up among scattered tubes of paint, palettes smeared in colour, and brushes waiting expectantly in jars. There was always a drop sheet on the floor, a canvas on the easel and a hint of thinners in the air. I was allowed pencils, pastels and unlimited materials to experiment with, so I dabbled with a little of everything.

I still dabble. But I have my most fun with impasto acrylics, spread thick with palette knife and brush or whatever lies at hand! Garbage lids, paint bottles, timber offcuts, even my coffee mug has come in handy to help capture whatever it is I'm meaning to share.

And thats what I paint. Things I've dreamed of, things I've seen, big ideas, single moments - the stuff I want to keep.

Pablo Picasso once said, “The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place; from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider’s web.” He also said, “Painting is just another way of keeping a diary.”

And thats what it is for me. Its also some seriously messy good fun. I often go about with paint stuck in my hair and I couldn't be happier.