Q: You describe your process as intuitive, where colours and shapes evolve without a set plan. How do you know when a painting is complete, and what emotions guide you through this journey?

A: When you work intuitively, it is much harder to know when a painting is complete because there are no guidelines as, for example, when you paint a portrait and have a visual reference in front of you. Up to a certain point, the arena is open to change because I like the act of painting to surprise me or offer suggestions for exploration. This can mean that many elements will emerge and at some point a structure or form will suggest an Endgame. Sometimes a painting finds its form early on and I will set it aside for a few days or weeks to get a fresh perspective on it. I've destroyed work by jumping in too quickly with more paint when something already feels right! The painting needs to feel right emotionally and in terms of shape and colour, which is not always easy to explain but over years of trusting my intuition, I know that this process works for me even if it takes time.

I don't always start paintings with the same approach or process. Some may be specific to a theme and I will use that theme as a vehicle to express and explore colour, for example, my Nicosia paintings. Other paintings start from a word or memory, or I lay down a set of colours to see what might happen. I like to alternate my approaches but they all bounce across my work generally as a way to keep things fresh and open. I always trust my intuition more than any purely intellectual decisions because thinking tends to stick to the known path whereas intuition can allow leaps of imagination. It's a delicate, balancing act and I like that sense of the unknown leading to a recognition of something that is not possible to explain but which holds a truth.

Q: Your use of vibrant colours and abstract forms creates a sense of movement and life. How do you choose your colour palette, and what role does colour play in conveying emotion or narrative in your work?

A: If I am working with specific memories, I choose colours that I feel hold the emotional experience of that place. The colours may not be literally connected with that place because I want to express my reality rather than copy exact colours. As I work, I like the colours to suggest other colours, or I may work on top of the initial colours. A lot of changing and editing goes on. I've just completed a painting of Daymer Bay, (Cornwall} where I spent many happy years with my Grandparents in their house next to the beach. The painting began with shades of blue, black, white, ochre, red and pink. I wanted to capture the movement of the sea against the jagged rocks because the tide there can be treacherous, so my colour was informed by this. The painting has rearranged the scene due to my emotional need to translate the energy and life of the sea.

In other paintings, such as 'Sheltering From the Storm,' I started purely from a wide set of colours which were laid onto neutral stains of colour. When I work in this more abstract mode, I allow the colour to direct the outcome. This involves a deep emotional focus and I lose all sense of myself and only the act of painting exists. At the time, certain environmental factors unconsciously entered those first marks because there was a storm and flooding in the UK. I didn't set out to paint this but, as the painting evolved, I imagined the energies of nature and how fragile we are against that uncertainty. I wanted to create a sense of movement, almost like the notes of music. Colour can work in so many ways emotionally and I like to explore the identities of various colours when laid side by side or dragged across each other. The physical act of applying paint is also part of my process because I'm quite an emotional person!

My approach tends to alternate between either using ideas based on places or following the need to find a synthesis for my memories and personal experiences. This second approach involves exploring how colour itself can create an emotional narrative without necessarily including visual markers such as trees, hills or sea. While I realise that each viewer will see something different, I always hope that a feeling of the energies of nature and colour will be felt.

Q: Your work reflects a deep connection to nature and references places you've lived or visited. How do memories of these landscapes shape your paintings?

A: Some paintings are shaped more by memories than others. I may use particular shapes to give focus to the use of colour or I might start from an aspect of colour and build on that. The alternating between specific memories as a theme or a more abstract starting point allow me to keep my ideas moving and offers the chance to invent from my imagination. For example, when I worked next to the Great Wall of China, my initial watercolours were figurative explorations of the jagged mountains. Eventually I wanted to capture something about the intense history of the Great Wall and I began to make spontaneous ink paintings using shapes and marks that seemed to embody my experiences and imaginings. The whole place felt heavy with the past. It culminated in a large painting that combined collaged pieces of painted canvas, ink and pen on an unstretched piece of canvas called 'Mosaic Mountain.' It echoed my long walk up the mountain to the Great Wall. I wanted to imagine the footsteps of the thousands of people who worked on the Wall, and to somehow connect with them. Abstracting this idea seemed to give me a closer emotional connection to the place.

When I start purely from colour, eventually a structure will begin to form and this often will relate to memories of journeys and become a journey through paint. My recent interest has been to create a translation of the energies of nature.

Memories of Nicosia are often about the heat and that shapes my choice of colours because I want to create a visual equivalent for heat and light. A frequent theme has been that period of time between evening and dusk. In Cyprus, shapes dissolve into warm colours in a way that I have never seen in the UK, and I used this idea to direct my choice of colours. Over the years, these ideas have become more abstract and they have changed how I'm now beginning my landscape based paintings.

Q: You’ve spoken about the influence of climate change and water motifs in your work, such as pools, rivers, and storms. How do these themes emerge in your paintings, and what message do you hope viewers take away from them?

A: I've always been interested in nature and astronomy, from a very young age, when I spent many hours in fields and forests studying wildlife, and reading books about the universe. It all feels so connected, and I feel that there is some incredible intelligence behind everything, whether we refer to this as God or Nature. Also, the human body is made up of 50-75% water, and water is necessary to life here and on other planets. These thoughts and memories have been reflected in my ongoing interest in suggestions of water in my paintings whether they relate to the sea or flooding. Water can be a force for good and bad, and I hope that perhaps in the paintings of storms and flooding, the viewer might think about climate change.

My use of blue can be a structural element as well as referring to water. At times I like to use blue in an ambiguous way, as a painting device, and at other times it will relate to my concerns about climate change and the future of our beautiful and amazing planet. Some paintings will be more obviously about the nature of water while others will leave the viewer to decipher the imagery in their own way. I hope that viewers would feel my message about the beauty and life force of the world, and the power of water, and that they will enjoy the colours in the more abstract based paintings.

Q: Your artistic journey has taken you to many places, from Lagos to Cyprus to the Great Wall of China. How have these cultural experiences shaped your identity as an artist, and how do they continue to influence your work today?

A: Living in Lagos at the age of 4 changed how I viewed colour and patterns. I noticed how different the qualities of light were when compared with our home in Camberley, and I absorbed the visual impact of the patterns on fabrics and buildings. This early exposure to bright colour formed the foundation for my use of colour up to today.

After that, my next influence was at the age of 11 when I studied a book of Chinese ink paintings of animals and landscape. I copied these over the course of a year, trying to catch the simplicity and life force of the brushstrokes, and hoping one day I would travel to China. The dance of brushwork and its ability to direct emotions is an ongoing passion and it was reaffirmed when I had the chance to visit China 3 times to take part in the Beijing International Art Biennale, and stayed at the Great Wall for a month. Working again with ink on rice paper with calligraphy brushes felt so natural. I also had the chance to connect with Chinese artists and to see and discuss contemporary and traditional ink painting. Since that time, I have continued to research Chinese ink painting and paint with ink on rice paper.

My 14 years in Nicosia were also pivotal to my artwork and had a huge cultural impact. I painted Nicosia from various rooftops in the old part of the city, at all times of day, and that kind of experience becomes embedded in your soul. When I first began to paint Nicosia, the work was fairly representational, but after a while the plethora of visual elements became condensed into aspects that were focused around colours and shapes to give a sense of the experience. I was very aware of the wall (Green Line) that divided the old city into 2 parts, and my paintings usually contained Greek churches in the Greek Cypriot side where I lived and the Saint Sophia cathedral (also called the Selimiye Mosque) in the Turkish Cypriot side (the northern region of Cyprus). Alone on top of a roof, I listened to church bells mingling with prayers from the mosque, and the hours of magic shaped my paintings.

My work was and never has been politically based, it was always about the experience of light, colour, and feeling many lives as my eyes glanced across that colourful scene. Learning Greek helped me to become part of the community and immersed me in the culture, traditions and history. I exhibited many times in Nicosia in solo and group exhibitions. I also painted in the ancient Hamam (Turkish Baths) in the Turkish Cypriot side of Nicosia, over a 5 year period, and exhibited these. This made me feel that I was connected to present and past history.

These influences continue to inform my paintings in varied ways because I am always exploring how I can weld them together in whatever theme I'm working on.

Q: What advice would you offer to emerging artists who are navigating their own creative paths?

A: My advice would be to try to not get discouraged. There will always be good and bad days. Artists need to take risks and make mistakes because that is how we grow and extend our artwork and ideas. It really helps to keep a sketch book and to draw because this forms the foundation for composition and visual awareness, and ideas for new paintings can grow from this in unexpected ways.

It's good to remember that painting is flexible and you can work over mistakes. Even artists who have been working for decades have to deal with doubts and paintings that are troublesome. It also helps to have a theme. Themes and ideas often emerge from drawing and looking, even if you end up wanting to work in an abstract mode. I would also say that while it's good to listen to other's opinions, we also need periods of quiet time to create away from everyone else's ideas in order to focus on what we need to do.

I will end with a helpful quote by Philip Guston: 'When you start working, everyone is in your studio - the past, your friends, enemies, the art world, and above all, your own idea - all are there. But as you continue, they start leaving, one by one, and you are left completely alone. Then, if you are lucky, even you leave.'