I’ve been making art my whole life, and I think I’m starting to understand why.
I stood at Pot Alley in Kalbarri, watching enormous, slow waves bash the coastline in the evening light, and my whole body just went: remember this. Put it somewhere it won’t disappear.
That’s what a painting is to me. It’s not decoration. It’s a place. A memory. A feeling you’d had once that you thought you’d lost.
I work with all sorts of materials — spray paint, oil, shellac, charcoal. I layer things. I go back over old work. I let colours surprise me. Some pieces take years to find themselves, while some happen fast and feel like they were always supposed to exist.
So if you’ve ever stood somewhere and thought, I never want to forget this — that’s what I’m trying to give you. Something to hang on the wall that holds that feeling for the rest of your life.
