For over 35 years, I worked as a graphic designer — shaping messages, building identities, and refining visual systems for others. My career was built on clarity, structure, and purpose. I learned to listen deeply, to translate ideas into form, and to communicate with intention. It was a craft I loved, and still do.
But over time, I felt a pull toward something less defined — toward ambiguity, texture, and emotional resonance. I began to explore ideas that had no brief, no client, and no clear answer. That’s when I turned to fine art – painting, drawing and more recently Lino printing.
Today, my work is a continuation of that lifelong exploration of visual language, but with a new focus: not on delivering messages, but on uncovering meaning. I paint and draw to engage memory, mood, and place. My process is shaped by decades of compositional thinking, but liberated from commercial constraints. I’m interested in what lies beneath the surface - in the tension between structure and spontaneity, in colour as emotion, and in imperfection as truth.
There’s a joy in returning to the tactile. In the brush and pencil, the paper, the slowness. My garage studio has become a place of unlearning and rediscovery — a space where the rules I once relied on are tools I now choose to break.
This chapter of my creative life isn’t a departure from design, but an evolution of it. A return to the blank page — not to begin again, but to begin differently.