My first memory of art is seeing hieroglyphics. When we were told we didn't know what they meant, those strange shapes and drawings became so magical.
Years later, I saw the Rosetta stone in the British museum. That rock translated those mystical symbols; those pictures of hawks and eyes were not curses or spells or recipes for love potions. The Rosetta stone is all about taxes and laws and edicts - it is ancient Egyptian admin.
That's why I don't like talking about or explaining art. I could tell you the how and why behind everything but you may well have invented an even more magical meaning. My explanation could be admin to you.
As far as the art goes, it’s a little all over the place. I look around galleries and museums and books and make my own versions of what excites me. I don’t do canvas. Maybe one day I will, but until I find a way of using it in a really original way, I am steering clear.
My art is a celebration of being alive. It’s fun and playful and colourful and chaotic. My first artist love was Matisse and I have a picture of one of his paintings on my fridge.
I try to avoid the following words in describing my art: connect, explore, interact, investigate, narrative, dialogue, intersection…
You can’t translate the sound of the rain. I don’t know if you need to.
