At the moment, my studio is the dining room table — a petite island of brushes, glue and half-baked studies. I’m still working in mixed media, using textures that make a piece feel lived-in before it arrives, but on a smaller scale.

There’s a library inside you. Some of the books were gifted, others forced into your hands. This is a story about remembering who wrote them, and who didn’t.

These are the last two pieces I made before packing away my paint, brushes and most of my life.

Every artwork has a story. Some take unexpected detours, while others circle back to where they began. This is one of those stories.

Just like the natural world, life is filled with periods of growth and dormancy, light and darkness.

Who doesn't love a good story? Storytelling in art is as old as the human race itself. It's the caveman's version of Netflix.