Painting, or learning how to use paint, is something I had to do. I am a big fan of colour so I knew that if I wanted to make colourful images, I had to learn how to use paint. I was in my late thirties when I actually committed to doing it full-time. I wasn’t consciously starting a career, I was just trying to control the creative urge and to find a purpose in life. Up until I started painting, I always felt like I wasn’t doing what I should be doing, I was often frustrated. Now that I paint, I find that the mild misery I used to feel has been lifted a little.

The interiors gallery was my main job for about fifteen years. Music was also my main job for a few of those years, but now it’s painting. It’s like spinning plates, I return to those previous lives when I need to, but my main focus is painting. They are all creative outlets, so I suppose I could define myself as a creative person.

I make the music by myself. Since the early ‘90s, I have been toying around with music and song writing. I was signed to a small record label for a couple of years, which got me into the habit of writing on a regular basis. Ever since, I have found myself recording albums almost by accident. There’s no big ambition or goal, I really just do it for fun. It also keeps my brain loose and forces my mind to think about themes and words.

When I started painting, I decided that I wanted to paint images like I would if I was a kid. I was sixteen in 1990, so the ‘80s just happen to be my time. All the characters and references from that era never left me, if anything they haunt me. As an experiment, I tried to approach my art as if 1989 never ended. As a kid, I spent a lot of my time drawing pop stars and movie stars from magazines, so I wanted to be true to that past time by doing exactly that now, in this era. That was the starting point, now I’m just following my nose.
It’s tricky to summarise the ‘80s without tripping over the bad stuff. At the time, you never really saw it, but the summery colours and pattern collage of Memphis Design still have a positive feeling for me. Miami Vice carried that theme on, and that played a big role in my world. If something had pinks and blues in it, I liked it. The ocean, palm trees, peach-coloured trousers and mint green shoes; whatever the combination, that was the kind of thing that put me in a good place. 

All synth-pop worked for me. Prince got it very right at the time. Early hip-hop, Breakdance the movie, anything Spielberg touched, Swatch watches, Harold Faltermeyer and Jan Hammer, plus some INXS and Huey Lewis and I was happy. For me, the ‘80s were a strange jumble of sunshine and technology.
Pop music videos were a big deal. They all played a role, even the ones I didn’t like because video was the new medium so you had older acts sitting side by side with younger acts, all with matching haircuts and shoulder pads. Some looked stupid and some looked great, which created a peculiar mix of influences on me. When I want to escape, I think of that world now, and when I paint, I try to reimagine today in those flavours.

Americans seem to love a slogan and that works for me, too. They also have a great way of advertising things. It’s almost impossible to avoid Americanisms in art if you’re a fan of pop art, as I am. Britain and America have often crossed paths culturally, so in my mind they are together as one blob of pop culture. They both feed off each other and mangling the two creates a varied mix of references for me as a painter. What Britain offers is humour and history, so I like to combine all those elements as some sort of visual language. It seems ridiculous now, but America used to feel modern and exciting in the ‘80s, and was once a positive force for me, so I can’t help but drag American references into my work when I can.

David Bowie seemed to have a sense of humour, so he may have understood what I do.

Sometimes, positive people can be annoying when I’m in a bad mood. However, a simple, hopeful message can create positivity, so I like how those two aspects flip-flop depending on your outlook. Also, I am fascinated by slogans and how we use them to send messages to ourselves and others.

The ideas just pop up when I look at a character or scene that I’ve made. I try not to dwell on the meaning too much, I just react to an image and follow the narrative until it does something interesting. The words or phrases in my work are a way to pin down the tone. Some people find art puzzling, so I try to skip that by being specific. I find that a throwaway phrase can lighten the mood, and if anything, I want to create a good vibe for people.
What I like about humans is the way that they try to be better than they are, so I try to enhance that theme in the hope that people feel connected by how silly we all are at times. There’s something sweet and ridiculous about people, so if I can portray characters in my work in a way that makes the viewer empathise with a fellow human being, then it’s a success to me.

For the record, I’m not obsessed with Debbie Gibson. Debbie was a big deal in 1989, and for some people still is. My obsession is with those people who are obsessed with pop culture icons such as Debbie Gibson. That’s the kind of sweetness in humans that attracts me to them.

The Masterpiece is just a bit of fun. A random image given an important title. I suppose there is a comment on the concept of masterpieces in there, but for me, bad things can be great things and good things can be overlooked, so the whole concept of greatness falls apart. The Mona Lisa I made was a commission for a client. It was a technical challenge for me and fun to do.

Probably, just more of the same. I don’t really know how it is supposed to go. I’m always considering making a book, I just have to decide what its purpose will be, but that is something that’s always on the cards. I’ll make some more paintings and see what happens. Every time I try to control the art, it fails, so I’m just going to have some fun. And if people get a little lift from that, then that’s a bonus.