It can begin with simple colour and mark on canvas or paper, seemingly random, but once I start it is as if I am processing so many things – walking home in the rain, looking out of my window, listening to an unexpectedly profound bit of music, recollecting a moment in time or noticing the light/sky change suddenly. Pretty intangible stuff, but weirdly specific at the same time. Music is always on, it seems to help take my mind out of the literal, into the abstract language of paint. I know I have finished something when that conversation stops, and when the words start flooding in for a title, immediately or much later when I am making sense of what I was trying to do.