Welcome to Dreams — a gallery of my original paintings exploring space, memory, and mood through the lens of magical realism. Some works are rooted in real places — particularly around Brighton — while others are purely imagined. What unites them is a desire to bend perspective, challenge perception, and let visual logic drift into something more reflective and curious.
This series brings together on-site sketches and studio explorations. I’m often drawn to transitional spaces—bandstands, bridges, towers—and explore them using curves, vanishing points, and layered geometry. While some scenes are recognisable, others are altered just enough to make you look again. That slight shift, for me, is where magical realism lives.
My process usually begins with a quick reference photo and a loose sketch — a shorthand to capture an atmosphere or structure. From there, I spend time in my sketchbook developing the visual logic of the piece. This part is done in pen and ink — specifically, a Pilot pen on paper — where I explore composition and distort perspective based on mood or spatial feel.
I sometimes create a scaled-up drawing before transferring it to canvas, but other times I work directly on the surface. I begin with an outline and then build in layers using Liquitex acrylic — a phase where the structure often shifts again and colours start to settle. Once that foundation feels right, I move on to oil glazes and detailing with Michael Harding paints, allowing light and tone to deepen the space. The whole process is organic. Nothing is fixed, and that openness is part of the magic for me.
All paintings in this series are created on cotton duck canvas. I work with Liquitex acrylics in the early stages for their flexibility, and finish with oil glazes using Michael Harding paints for their depth and pigment strength. I use traditional methods — underpainting, glazing, and intuitive drafting — but with a view to opening space, not locking it down.
For me, it’s about allowing the ordinary to shift slightly — a street bending inwards, or light falling unexpectedly. It’s grounded in reality, but something’s off just enough to make you pause. That slight shift is where meaning often lives.
Some are recognisably Brighton, others are imagined entirely. But even the real ones are altered. I use space to reflect feeling or memory — so a street might become more curved, or a roofline might echo a thought.
I do much prep work in the sketchbook, including diagrams, lines, and visual testing. But once I start painting, things often shift. Curves evolve. Decisions change. The structure is there, but it’s never rigid.
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I like quiet scenes. I want the space to speak — not to explain, but to invite. Sometimes I include shadows or hints, but never explicit characters. That way, there’s more room for the viewer to step in.
Sometimes. A Bridge might mean transition, or a stairway might suggest discovery. But it’s never heavy-handed. I’m more interested in how structure and light feel — how a visual moment can hold weight without needing to declare it.
If you want to explore these themes further, I invite you to browse the full Dreams gallery. Process notes, details, and links to prints and originals are there. You can join my newsletter or follow along on Instagram for regular updates, behind-the-scenes insights, and studio thoughts.