As a young boy I would lie on my stomach, on the bed and gaze into my highly polished wooden headboard, which would suck me in like a vortex and deposit me in a world of imaginings. I soon realised that most other people did not see things as I did and little has changed. My head, even today, is full of imaginings and creations, leading to sleepless nights when my closed eyes will not stop painting or inventing.
Imagination a curse or a blessing?
I am often asked about the black sky and reply that its only a very deep shade of blue, so deep in fact that when I first produced this work, I used Blue paint mixed with Indian Ink.
There is no such colour as black, indeed for something to appear that way all light would have to be removed, then how would you see anything at all. Once light, however small, enters, then the colour appears in the vision but only if you really look.
The English countryside is full of colour but it is exaggerated when exposed to flashes of light appearing behind the overcast cloud. The yellow corn becomes golden, the green fields take on a vividness, the muddy ploughed field almost orange and the farmyard walls a spotless white.