Walking along a sun dappled pathway, through a wood where the trees aren’t so dense that the forest feels foreboding and yet plentiful so they screen any signs of road, houses, other people. Walking boots that feel clumsily big, occasionally catching tree roots. Air that feels clean to breathe, fresh. Silence except for chirruping birds, wind dancing through leaves, my footsteps. Eyes darting from tree to tree, branch to branch, leaf to leaf. Constantly framing views, the way the path curls slightly to the right, the twisting branch to the left, the patch of bright green ferns. Fallen leaves, twigs, pebbles. A moss covered tree stump.

My biggest inspiration, the forest and all it entails. As I walk through a forest or a wood of some kind I’m constantly in search of my next drawing subject. Even if I’m not actively seeking inspiration it seeps in, a gentle stroll becomes a research mission, always. I’ve loved the countryside and in particular woods for as long as I can remember. I’ve written before about how childhood trips in a caravan to the Forest of Dean instilled in me a love for the outdoors. I’ve been drawing and painting landscapes since studying Fine Art at BA level, nearly 10 years since graduating and I’m still not done with the subject. While studying a Fine Art MA my practice evolved from pencil drawings to tight slightly abstracted pen drawings to large scale loose chalk on blackboard drawings of forest views.

Since graduating with an MA in Fine Art I’ve continued to draw, and draw, and draw. I’ve gone back to fine liners, they feel most comfortable for me. The drawings are not totally representational, they aren’t abstract either. In my mind I’m creating a kind of impression of a landscape, attempting to capture the light and the detail. Building an image through repetitive mark making that allows my mind to wander back to where I was when I took the photograph that I use to aid composition. Some of the drawings work well, in my mind they almost shimmer, like when you’re looking up to the tree tops and the light dapples through. Some drawings don’t work as well and feel flat and lifeless, full of detail but missing something.

If I can’t get to a wood or if I’m in need of an inspiration fix from home then I have a small collection of art books to see me through. Most focus on Impressionists and painters of landscapes. Favourite artists include Monet, David Hockney, Peter Doig and Tracey Emin (the catalogue from her solo exhibition at The White Cube titled The Last Great Adventure Is You is a favourite to peruse). I like painterly paintings. Expressive brush strokes, colours that reflect what you see in nature. Beautiful lines made by a fine brush, paint drips. The art I like is nothing like the art I produce, I’ve often wondered about that.

Other Things That Inspire Me:

Postcards, interesting stamps, maps, black and white photography, collections of things in glass cases, walled gardens, Chinese ink paintings, rows of oil paint tubes arranged in rainbow order, old sketchbooks.

What inspires you?

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