Artist statement

Why do certain landscapes connect with us more than others?

My roots are in the wild Lancashire uplands and Yorkshire moors. My formative years were spent there, absorbing everything they had to offer: fauna and flora, birdsong, wild rivers, distinctive hills; changing colours and distant views - all underscored by the presence of history and folklore. A landmark of my daily horizon was Pendle Hill, known as a site of witchcraft - perhaps my first introduction to the way landscape can carry our ancestors’ stories.

The years have brought my life to Cornwall, where I’ve once again felt the joy of losing myself in nature. The sense of connection is so strong, with so many parallels to the wildness of the North. The haunting song of the curlew in Lancashire has been replaced in Cornwall by the persistent cackle of the gulls.

I find my art responding to the wide open skies, the intense tactility, the light like nowhere else. Here, the passing of the seasons takes on more significance. During the winter, I’m transfixed by the moody moorlands, the hostility and melancholy brought by storms and low light. I pair violent, scratchy marks with muted colours to capture the movement of grasses in the wind and the motion of clouds and tides. Then, with the passing of the seasons, the melancholy lifts; light and colour flood in. New life springs from the barren land. Everything changes, especially the light, like a new dawn full of optimism. My work becomes more vibrant with softer brushstrokes.

I can feel the strong, invisible presence of past generations drawing me to the ancient sites of Cornwall. The moorlands and standing stones hold the mythology of those who came before, telling their stories as though they were still there. I take my time with them, looking, feeling, listening, thinking and only then creating. I find my work responding to an energy, elemental and powerful. It energises me, too, and restores me.