Sometime in the late 1950s I discovered my connection with the act of painting. Having moved from the country to the city, the mid ’60s saw me at Chelsea Art School just off the King’s Road in the heady days of Swinging London, after a brief encounter with Architecture at the Regent Street Polytechnic, where amongst others I’d met the nascent Pink Floyd. By the early ‘70s I found myself sharing a flat with founder and former lead singer Syd Barrett, the home/studio I’ve occupied on my own ever since.  In the ‘80s, somehow I became briefly a reflection of my own earliest form of received iconography, the discarded cosmetics displays from my parent’s pharmacy storeroom where many hours were spent playing as a child, when I was featured on similar products myself in Japan. In the ‘90s I discovered the digital medium; my workspace expanded from the confines of the studio into the virtual world. Making imagery still always the main occupation, hours spent chasing line, form, colour and content; solitarily, obsessively, demonically, joyously, neurotically, irrationally, hopelessly, devotedly, delightedly.


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