I consider myself to be a modern traditionalist painter. I don’t have any favourite subject matter, instead my imagination is fired by a certain indefinable quality in everyday things, often linked to a memory from the past. Sometimes just part of a remembered image-even something simple like the sunlight playing on a hat brim-is all it takes. There is a kind of beauty inside everything if you look close enough – it doesn’t have to be anything intrinsically pretty, or attractive or especially worthy of attention. In my experience quite often it is better if it isn’t.
“First light Dorsoduro”
“Waterwell and stairs at the Palazzo Centani, Venezia”
“Ducks on the beach”
“Me, Antony Gormley and another on Crosby beach”
“Elle”
“Cardinal sin, Envy in Venice”
“ Engineer”
“ Sunstroke1”
“ Louise”
“The Rookery”
“Lighting the sails”
“Over Long Bay, Sydney”
“Cardinal sin; Anger in Tottenham”
“Liverpool One”
“Cradle”
“Arrival”
“...and the livin' is easy.”
