“Thank you for sharing…
Sometimes (your work has) been the only reason I have made it through the night.”
– Mental Health Week exhibition visitors comment
“The spirit of this exhibition brings to mind Emily Bronte’s poem: “No coward soul is mine’… Not many artists would dare to exhibit works so raw side by side with others of aching, touching beauty: a public looking for nice landscapes, sentiment or roses in vases to hang in the living room will be severely disappointed.
But those looking for artistry across a variety of mediums, poetic vision, frighteningly real fantasy, and deeply emotional, vivid dream imagery and dark yet romantic metaphors will rejoice! Time HAS to be taken to view this exhibition, to study the intricate, subtle detail and to read the beautifully crafted ‘stories’ underneath each piece.”
– from exhibition ‘She Dreams’
“A courageous, beautiful exhibition about a taboo subject…Some… are indeed very sad, but many of them are quietly joyful. Like the process of grieving itself, there is no easy progression from dark to light in this exhibition, but the overall impression that you take away is a feeling that the mourning of all unborn children has been permitted in this space, in a way that is rarely possible in the unsympathetic glare and glitter of the outside world…Honouring the unborn: a deeply moving art exhibition.”
– review of exhibition ‘Waiting for You’ in Weekend Notes
Sometimes confronting and always compassionate, my art delves into hidden, private, or marginalised experiences, expressed with aching beauty, savage darkness, and quiet joy.
My art has helped to keep me alive.
Sometimes in very big ways, as a receptacle for overwhelming pain, a place I can pour out the nightmares and ease back from the edge of the void. Sometimes in much more subtle – but equally important – ways, bringing humour and tenderness into my life.
Sometimes people tell me my art helps keep them alive too.
My great passion in art is the meaning, I’m flexible about the medium and work in oil painting, inks, watercolours, body painting, sculpture in PMC, timber, metal and glass, poetry, and hand made books and zines.
I often use art to explain, inspire, or humanise in my training. My art eases my pain, calms nightmares, captures dreams, staves off self destruction, expresses joy, and gives me mementos from different experiences and parts of myself. They are my talismans from other worlds.
Once described as Michael Leunig meets Tim Burton,
I explore personal experience with an eye for strangeness as well as whimsy.
I am also a Social Practice Artist, which means at times I work collaboratively with communities, using social engagement as my primary medium to create artwork in various formats. The social interaction is the key component of the artwork. I link contributions from people together.
With sensitive handling, Social Practice Art is an incredibly effective way of engaging hidden communities, complex issues, and taboo topics. It supports the voice of people who are often ignored, and increased visibility of the experiences and ideas of those affected without having to expose them directly. I have successfully used this approach to create my Artbook Mourning the Unborn, and Exhibition Waiting for You, on the topic of miscarriage.
My art helps make it bearable to look at deeply personal topics.