Painting is a practice that allows me to respond to a constellation of memory. Through an instinctive and contemplative attitude I create work that at its core is a reaction to the feelings of a non-interfered experience with childhood loss. My practice alongside writing and sketching allows me to vent thoughts and feelings at different tempos. It can be quick and intuitional as well as slow and deliberate.

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The trips I take into my mind are turned into a visual experience. Through a deep consideration of questioning why I feel a certain way I fuel my compositions. The work is a way of rationalising and bringing out the essence of a child, who’s authentic self was locked away, into the present. It is a way of connecting to the true self. The plane of the canvas acts as a splitting point between an authentic representation of the world filtered through my perspective versus the way I present myself in reality. It is a back and forth conversation that reveals a narrative as the painting process occurs.

 

Trying to find order in a busy mind is mirrored in the crowded starting points of my painting. I fill the canvas with intuitional marks and colour in an attempt to remove myself from any given content. Without a clear visualisation of content I can be more fluid on the canvas. There is a psychosomatic satisfaction with cleaning up the canvas. This chaotic starting point allows for more unpredictable movements to happen. These unpredictable occurrences can not be taught and are truly authentic to myself. By changing from acrylic to oil paint I have noticed an increase in unpredictable movements and becoming more generous with my “errors” has given my work more of an identity.