Texture has always been my way of speaking. Before colour, before composition - there’s surface. The way paint drags, cracks, absorbs, or resists. It’s where emotion becomes tangible. In every painting, I explore how materials interact. I might use household gloss beside acrylic or press found tools into wet paint to leave a trace. These moments of experimentation keep the work alive; they make each piece one of a kind. “Texture holds emotion - the memory of movement, the weight of decision,...

There’s a moment in almost every painting when I think I’ve gone too far. The surface feels chaotic - marks overlap, colours clash, and nothing seems balanced. In the past, that used to fill me with frustration. Now, I’ve learned to recognise it as the turning point - the moment when something honest begins to happen. Painting abstractly has taught me that imperfection isn’t failure; it’s language. The uneven edges, the accidental drips, the traces left behind - they all carry emotion. Each...

There’s a certain silence that follows an exhibition. After weeks of preparing work, framing, transporting, and talking - the noise fades, and the familiar stillness of the studio returns. The brushes are waiting, the tables are covered in dried paint, and there’s a faint scent of turpentine in the air. Coming back to this space always feels like exhaling. It’s a return to something simple - the rhythm of paint, the sound of bristles moving across canvas, the hum of quiet work. Rediscovering...