A series of oil paintings on board, all based on drawings made in the landscape during May 2023. Each 24 x 32cm

A charcoal, graphite and chalk drawing of an urban cut through made in situ and a mixed media painting/drawing from it. I omitted the strewn crushed beer cans and flattened cigarette ends from my drawing, and instead focussed on the movement of light and shadow playing throughout the scene.

I love big skies and wide sweeping landscapes, but I live in the suburb of a city and so instead look for small patches of beauty found in scruffy corners. When I was a young child and wasn’t allowed to stray too far from home, I would play on snippets of neglected land tightly sandwiched between the ever expanding new build estates. I preferred the slightly hidden ones, encased in brambles and a canopy of oak and conifer, where I could ride my bike, make dens and explore away from prying adult eyes. These tiny patches of nature would feel like their own little worlds and they were calm and peaceful spaces where I could happily spend time alone. Evidence of more riotous activity was always present, with a discarded detritus of beer cans and cigarette butts, but the daytimes were strangely quiet and empty. Spaces reminiscent of these are becoming a recurring theme in my work.

Memories of an seasonably warm spring evening amble around the periphery of a large town. An unremarkable verge transformed by the soft glow emanating from strings of haphazardly arranged tree lights. Heavy heads of gently swaying cow parsley illuminated against a backdrop of nettles and an inky night sky.

On clear sky days during the coldest part of the year, the Mediterranean Garden in Kew transports me to a warm Southern Europe, but just a short tube ride away. A low sun, that barely scrapes the top of the trees, illuminates the stone pines revealing intense jewel-like colours.

These drawings were both made in situ, during January and March 2022, wrapped up in layers, including scarf and gloves, with the winter sun warming my back.

29.7 x 21 cm, colour pencil on paper

Still obsessed with my ageing skin, I drew this in natural daylight and held up a small mirror close to my face to see all the details in their full glory.

I have always loved maps, and see this drawing as a current map of my face, charting contours and exploring landmarks. Nature will continually erode and the topography alter and will have to redraw the map regularly. But I wonder when I will start to care how I look? My mum now doesn’t like to look at the drawings I make of her. I tell her that it is the lines and blemishes that interest me and that I emphasise them, but she’s not impressed.

29.7 x 21 cm, gouache & colour pencil on paper.

I’m remembering those primary school science lessons in the park, where a wooden hoop was throw down randomly and the task was to look carefully and list everything we found within it. I was always fascinated the way a very ordinary patch of earth would open up on close inspection to become a whole new world of its own.

With these mixed media studies I want to elevate the mundane to show the extraordinary beauty to be found in overlooked patches of the ground beneath our feet.

My mum now doesn’t like to look at the drawings I make of her. I tell her that it is the lines and blemishes that interest me and that I emphasise them, but she’s not impressed.

After a series of falls during early 2020, a with a diagnoses of both Vascular dementia and Alzheimers, dad was transferred into a care home. Just 3 weeks later, due to the Covid pandemic, the doors of the home were locked to visitors for several long months. When I was finally permitted to see him again, it was at first in an outside space only, a couple of metres apart, and was not allowed to reach out and touch him. I’m not sure he recognised his daughter at all behind the mask, apron and gloves. His condition had deteriorated considerably over our protracted time apart, and he was no longer able, or wanted to engage in conversation. I did a lot of the talking over the next few visits, trying desperately to reconnect with the loving and kind man I knew so well. He now swung between angry and fearful psychotic outbursts, or was slumped silently in a chair, drugged yet peaceful. I never knew which of these new dads I was going to get from one visit to the next. When winter arrived, a booth was constructed indoors in the foyer, but we were separated by thick plastic sheeting and he could often not even hear what I was saying. Many more months later, when we were finally authorised to spend time in the same room, I started to try and draw him during my visits. It seemed to work quite well, with the pressure of conversation removed for both of us. I would put on one of his favourite CDs, jazz or classical, and we would just sit in calm companionship. He died in early January 2022 after a massive stroke, and the drawings are now a powerful reminder of our precious time together.

Revisiting childhood and the lowland heath close to where I grew up. Bursting with wildlife and an abundance of gorse, grassland, mire and scrub, this magical landscape continues with tradition and is grazed by free roaming cattle.

Explored here in gouache, soft pastel, ink, pencil and graphite.

I met Nasim online during lockdown, and have drawn her a number of times since, both over live Zoom sessions from her home in Glasgow and from reference photographs.

The viewpoint online is always restricted and the close cropped drawings emphasise the tight edges of computer screen between us. Having said that, the screen was not the barrier I feared it would be, and it has been wonderful to have the opportunity to draw models from all over the world.

A charcoal, graphite and chalk drawing made in situ. My focus was on capturing the ever changing dancing patterns of dappled light created by its broad canopy.

Examples from an ongoing series of small mixed-media studies focussing on water and the layers created by what is sunken beneath, is floating on the surface and is reflected from above.

Using layers of ink, gouache, watercolour, pen and pencil, these works explore the intense jewel colours exposed during low winter light.

Drawings of the park made between November 2020 and January 2021 as part of my Walking and Drawing lockdown project. All were begun from life, and when the cold became overwhelming, finished from memory back at home in the warm.

Colour pencil on paper, all 21 x 14.8cm

Made between November 2020 and February 2021, as part of my Walking and Drawing lockdown project. These small drawings, concentrating on colour and mark-making, were all begun from direct observation, and depending on how cold I became that day, finished from memory & imagination back at my studio.

colour pencil on paper, each drawing 21 x 14.8cm

Drawn in situ between January and April 2021, as part of my lockdown Walking and Drawing project. As lockdown ended and the days became warmer, I started to work bigger and the drawings were made completely from life.

top row: 29.7 x 21cm, gouache, graphite and colour pencil on paper other rows: 21 x 14.8cm, colour pencil on paper.

Along the Ridgeway in Wiltshire sits Wayland’s Smithy, a two-phase Neolithic tomb dating back to 3590 BC.

There is a local tale, that if you were leave your horse tethered to the long barrow along with a coin, then the Wayland elf would magically re-shoe your horse while you were alway.

Surrounded by huge rustling trees, the whole area has an eerie atmosphere and I aimed to portray that slightly unearthly feeling in my drawing.

Clouts Wood was made in situ, and the ink was applied using an array of natural, mark-making materials, including twigs, grasses and feathers.

During lockdown in April 2020, I sat in the sunshine on the flat roof overlooking my back garden, and drew the 180 degree view around me. I wrote an account about the experience which you can find on my blog page.

Mixed-media experiments inspired by an old black and white photographs

A faded sepia photograph of a butcher’s shop window & drawings made in a Barcelona meat market over 30 years ago were the inspiration for Pigdom. Working over a warm ink wash, I built up the drawing using gouache, ink, pencil and felt-tip pen.

During the first Covid lockdown I revisited photos of my ancestors,

With Striking Miner’s I was interested in trying to make a drawing that resembled an engraved copper plate. I scratched into the pre-prepared ink washed paper with ultra fine, hard leaded pencils and rubbed back until the paper threatened to disintegrate.

Three Sisters I don’t know much about these women, or indeed if they were sisters. I was interested in their long, heavy dresses and the women resemble stone monoliths stuck in the landscape.

In the autumn of 2020 I turned 50, and during the months leading up to the day, entered a period of introspection investigating how the years were showing themselves across my face.

I love drawing older people, and am not at all bothered about the inevitable addition of wrinkles and other blemishes. I am far more concerned about maintaining physical heaIth so I continue to be able to draw & paint, walk long distances and do all the other things I take for granted.

Trapped was drawn as a response to the confusing tidal wave of rules and restrictions that swirled about us during the first wave of the Covid pandemic, and how we were indoctrinated to become fearful of each other.

Self was painted during the first few weeks of lockdown in April 2020, when there was nothing but time to self-reflect. This portrait continued my ongoing exploration of ageing skin. I used a hand held mirror in bright, raking daylight to investigate the spots, stray hairs, wrinkles and other blemishes visible on my then 49 year old face.

Some of most prized possessions are the many photographs of my ancestors that I have collected from various relatives over the years. I have been told snippets about some of the characters, mainly the men, but know very little about the women in these pictures. I’ve been drawing from these photos, on and off, for years, and as I draw I invent stories and imagine scenarios putting the women at the centre of their own little dramas.

These mixed media drawings were both made during hot August days, perched on uneven ground in the shady depths of this ancient forest.

Looking up at the huge London Plane trees along Victoria Embankment on a cold, clear January day. These studies were made over pre-prepared ink grounds using gouache, ink, biro and pencil.

Drawings made in direct response to extracts of poetry.

A series of mixed-media paintings and drawings exploring evening and early morning light in a urban setting.

Lundy lies off the coast of North Devon, where the Atlantic ocean meets the Bristol Channel, with nothing between it and America. A granite outcrop, three miles long and half a mile wide, it is a place apart from the modern world, peaceful and unspoiled.

From the Battery was etched from a drawing made in situ during 2019. I drew in in my sketchbook, perched on the cliff edge with just the angry roar of waves smashing continually against granite for company, and drew again later the same day onto a pre-prepared copper plate .

Seascapes I, II, III, IV. During October 2019 I spent a week drawing on the island, and the skies that week were spectacular! These 4 small colour studies were made from sketches on that visit.

Devil’s Limekiln is a sea cave with a deep fossil blowhole. The blowhole has enlarged due to collapse. This mixed media drawing was inspired by a sketch I made whilst crouching nervously at the edge of the 79m drop into the underworld.

Old Light is a multi-media drawing inspired by a sketch I made on the island looking up from Pilot’s Quay.

Three-quarter Wall. The light on Lundy is ever changing and at times the colours on the water can be incredibly vivid.