There’s a reason it took me thirty years to pick up a brush, though. An art teacher once stood in front of one of my painted works and told me it was ‘de la merde’ (I’ll let you look it up!) and that I would never be a painter. His words stayed with me. And I believed them. For three decades.

The MA in Creative Practice was a significant step in a long evolution — and the moment I finally found the courage to hold myself accountable for my art. It came after thirty years of being curious: seeking out colour and vitality in gardens; interpreting colour and composition through my creative floristry work and experiencing warmth and light on my worldwide travels. All of these elements were bubbling up inside, working their way to the surface. The degree made it official; no more putting it off.

I’m delighted to say that since starting I’ve already been exhibited twice. I’m gaining recognition, building confidence (and friendships) and I’m now deep into Flesh and Flowers - a series of twelve paintings that will form a full exhibition later this year.

Honestly? Thirty years is a long time to hold something in. But here we are. And I think it shows: the waiting, the vulnerability and the exhilaration of finally letting it out.

My work is acrylic and abstract, shaped by artists I return to again and again — Joan Mitchell, Cecily Brown, Gillian Ayres, Matisse, Chagall. I’m drawn to work that is expressive, colourful and alive. That’s what I’m chasing on canvas.

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