The Thread That Connects Everything

Over the years people have often recognised the same hand behind all of my work — jewellery, paintings and drawings.

It’s becoming clearer to me that they’ve always grown from the same thread: shaped through years of working with organic forms, colour, surface and material exploration. At the centre of it all has always been the same intrinsic fascination — a curiosity about the meeting point between science and art.

Long before I formally studied art, I was drawn to experimentation, observation and process. The behaviour of materials has always held my attention; the way things react, transform, erode, oxidise, fracture or settle into new forms over time.

From around 2017 onwards, my painting practice began to shift more fully into a place of experimentation. I created an extensive body of work exploring painting as a site for enquiry — treating surfaces almost like scientific experiments. I became increasingly interested in how materials behave and interact, allowing chance, instability and unpredictability to become part of the process itself.

That approach still runs through everything I make.

Whether working with ink on paper, oxidised metal, wire, pigment or patinated copper, I’m rarely interested in complete control. I’m more drawn to tension: between order and chaos, structure and erosion, intention and accident. Often the most meaningful moments happen when the material begins to do something unexpected.

In more recent years I’ve found myself returning to the language of alchemy — not only as a reflection on material transformation, but as a metaphor for personal change, exploration and discovery of the self. The idea that transformation happens slowly, imperfectly and through process feels deeply connected to the way I work.

Some ideas have long lives.

It’s always interesting to see how they endure, evolve, and quietly find their way back again.