One of the most important shifts in my development came through training, not in technique alone, but in observation. Learning to see relationships—between colour, form, movement, and space—completely changed how I approached painting.
For me, the studio is a place of uncertainty. It’s where ideas don’t quite work yet, where decisions are made and unmade repeatedly. There’s paint on the floor, half-resolved canvases leaning against walls, and a constant sense that something could go wrong at any moment. That unpredictability isn’t a flaw—it’s essential to the work.
It’s the imperfections that hold your attention. A mark that doesn’t quite resolve, a colour that pushes too far—these are the moments that create tension.
There’s always a moment where the work stops cooperating. What started clearly becomes awkward, resistant, unresolved. That’s usually the point where most people try to fix things quickly.
