I grew up in the very analogue 1970’s in Scotland in a massive home full of antiques, art and real fireplaces, a place that now feels like a figment of my imagination. Lots of rainy days, my 3 siblings, hours spent colouring in, playing in the garden, watching all the best tv of the era and pretty much clueless about the big bad world. It was a place of safety and cosiness and comfort. A place where the world did not seep in and daydreaming was a favourite pastime of mine. Daydreaming at the Friday night dinner table, getting lost in looking into the crystal glasses full of water, wine or whiskey at the mysterious colours and sparkles was enough to take me off into my imaginary world. 

The safety of home and daydreaming are the foundation of my art practice. Nowadays, I get lost in my world when I am in my garden, whether I am weeding or sprinkling the seeds from flowers that have dried out or planting something new from the garden centre. I bring this magical feeling into all of my work, infusing it with colour and light and layers. Setting up my still life objects takes me ages, as I look into the glass or silver and get lost in them once again.

Painting what I see really grounds me and bridges the divide between my daydream world and the tangible place and time I live in.