No-one ever talks about process. But I can't talk about the images without mentioning how they come about.
As improvisations, my paintings are usually unplanned, most often made directly with pen and ink onto paper without a preliminary pencil drawing. This means that I have to commit to whatever happens, as I can't rub out or paint over. I can't paint over because I use very thin layers of acrylic paint, generally using the white of the paper rather than mixing white with colours, more like a watercolour technique.
Things arrange themselves as they go along, according to their inclinations rather than mine.
In this way, my subject matter has evolved and is understood retrospectively, rather than being intentionally created.
From originally being a celebration of the miracle of life ('Dance'; 'Artists'), what's emerging now seems to be an attempt to bear witness to the threatened beauty of the planet that hosts us, with a stress on the equality of all life forms. And an attempt to bear witness to the beauty of some aspects at least of human history and culture, which is also now under threat as never before.
Human-made artefacts, often depicting birds and animals, turn up frequently. These are from a time when other living creatures were seen as powerful allies, even gods, and were the means or recipients of the ritual activity which was required to secure safe passage for humans on the earth.
In one sense, the paintings look straight into the eyes of all that's being squandered and lost as a result of our brutal and uncaring consumption. But they also try to sing about and contribute to the fragile beauty of our resilient, incredible world.