The extraordinary lurks in the daily scene.
On my mental sketch pad, I fix the 'real' world as it rushes in my path. And I bring home small gifts: as my children find in the Common a stick or a stone, weathered and curved, and imagine it is an overlooked treasure, which we keep for months
The Masters dare a line of a figure or the sweep of a branch, tree, charcoal against the white. My images come from a static spark in the shuffle of a very common daily life. They are stories that begin from a glance, grow in errant thoughts, weave through trial and error in the my morning coffee or when waiting for a friend. My tools are the same that most people carry on the Tube. I am mobile to chase my thoughts.