My recent paintings are almost always flowers, arranged in vases and pots that lean and wobble, holding dreamy blooms that are just as unruly. Botanical accuracy was never the point- there may be a petal drawn too big, a stem drooping further than gravity should allow, another twirling off in an unexpected direction.
I paint in acrylic, then let oil pastel scribbles loose over the top, my way of coaxing life and twisting movement out of the flat block colour beneath. Colour is what I chase most. Bold, saturated, joyful. Icelandic poppies are my favourite flower to paint- their crumpled, papery petals and long twisting stems are exactly the kind of quirkiness I'm after.
My inspiration comes from the ordinary and everyday, snatched in odd moments rather than planned ones. With two young kids taking up most of my time, art has to fit into the cracks of daily life rather than a set-aside studio hour, so sketchbooking has become my real practice- quick, portable, a little unruly itself. It's shaped the loose, spontaneous quality of the finished work. Maybe it's no coincidence I keep returning to flowers that won't hold their shape: delicate, a little chaotic, never quite tidy, painted in whatever fleeting pocket of time I can actually find.