After graduating from the Royal College of Art, where I’d also read philosophy under Iris Murdoch, I enjoyed various occupations in film and television. Then, somehow, I slipped into advertising.

 

But, for sanity’s sake, in 1982 (while still in advertising) I began creating artworks again: painting, collage, forever sketching ideas.

 

I’d been sketching since I was a boy. In my teens, my father took me to galleries: everywhere from the National and Tate to Bond and Cork Streets. During school holidays, my mother took me to theatre matinees.

 

So it’s 1982, having rescued my old brushes and paints, I executed a bunch of flowers (just to see if I could still paint; I could).

 

My first series of works were collage portraits: taking a photobooth shot of the subject and surrounding it with found-images expressing their life’s story and aspirations.

 

They were succeeded by a collage series defining Raymond Chandler’s ‘Philip Marlowe’ detective novels. The completed artworks were limited editions of black-and-white photographs.

 

The following ten years were devoted to contemporary mixed-media interpretations of the Ancient Greek Myths: shown in various London galleries, culminating in an exhibition at the Air Gallery. Also, a proud series highlighting the Original Olympic Games: exhibited in London, with a major installation at the Bonington Gallery, Nottingham.

 

Now, and it’s taken many years, many forms, many trials and errors, I have finally arrived at today’s highly-disciplined abstract paintings. They are an exploration of the Corridors and Chambers of the Mind.

 

If any artist has inspired my recognition of expression, then it has to be Mark Rothko. Not in terms of methodology (except in pursuing a particular format) but in the struggle of realising humanity.