THE PRACTICE
My Artistic Compass
The Practice
My artistic practice is an ongoing investigation into how sustained attention and recognition of potential can reveal relationships already present within place.
I work with naturally derived inks, earth pigments and textiles, not because they are unusual, but because they carry within them the histories, characteristics and rhythms of the landscapes from which they come. Rather than simply representing a place, I seek to work with it, embracing the materials themselves to ensure their participation in the making of each artwork.
My practice is not fundamentally about botanical inks or textiles. These are the means through which a deeper inquiry becomes visible. The real discipline of my practice is attention and recognition.
Attention, for me, is the active practice of noticing, thinking, feeling and responding. It requires time, patience and a willingness to remain with uncertainty long enough for new relationships to emerge. The artwork becomes the place where that sustained attention is made visible.
Recognition is important in order to acknowledge the potential and the possibilities of myself, my materials and the place of my heart. Without recognition there can be no practice, no serendipity and no consolidation of intent. While attention may become visible within the artwork, recognition cultivates a sureness that what has been recognised within the artwork can be trusted.
A role I value is to be an artist who prepares conditions in which other people can begin to recognise the truth of their own practice as well as the truth they recognise. I don’t teach people my recipes, I create environments where people can learn to make art materials from the place they love. I try to inhabit a framework which remains open to revision, where evidence is distinguished from interpretation, where uncertainty is paramount and in which recognition is valued over assertion.
My process begins with observation. Walking, collecting, making inks, returning to the same places through changing seasons, experimenting with materials, and allowing unexpected responses to become part of the conversation. All are integral to the work. Structure provides enough discipline for discovery, while uncertainty leaves room for surprise.
This practice has taught me that places are not just locations to be depicted. They are communities of relationships in which I participate. Working with materials gathered from a place allows those relationships to remain active within the artwork rather than only illustrated by it. This practice has also informed my work with others where there is space for their thinking and where serendipity is never denied.
My work is also an inquiry into perception. How do we learn to notice more deeply? What changes when we move beyond naming towards genuine observation? How might artistic practice cultivate ways of seeing that extend beyond the studio and into everyday life?
It is through constantly engaging with these questions, that experimentation, research and play have woven into the backbone of my practice and become central forces of direction. Alongside my studio practice, writing and reflective inquiry have become another means of understanding and making sense of my overall practice. Rather than explaining the work, these reflections help me recognise the capacities that years of artistic practice have cultivated. They have become part of the same creative practice rather than a separate activity.
Such practices are not intended to describe only my own experience. I hope it encourages others to recognise the relationships they already have with the places that have shaped them and to discover that creativity begins with learning to see more deeply what is already present.
Ultimately, my work is an invitation to slow down, to notice, and to recognise that attentive relationships with place have the capacity to change not only how we create, but how we might more broadly engage with the world.