I have lived in Sydney for many years, immersed in the rhythm and beauty of the coastline and the vast Australian landscape. When COVID-19 reshaped the world, life narrowed abruptly. Routines dissolved. Movement was restricted. The expansiveness I was accustomed to felt suddenly out of reach. In that stillness, something unexpected emerged.

What began as a response to constraint became an opening. I picked up a paintbrush for the first time, not with formal training or expectation, but with curiosity. One painting led to another. The act of painting became both exploration and quiet refuge.

Without a traditional art education, I found freedom. Free from prescribed techniques, I was able to experiment instinctively, layering tone, texture, and movement to create depth that feels both expansive and tactile. The absence of rules became a space for discovery.

I am fascinated by aerial imagery. Viewing the world from above offered a psychological shift. From that vantage point, coastlines soften, boundaries blur and vast terrains become abstract compositions of colour and form. Looking down evokes curiosity, it invites questions about scale, connection and the fluidity of edges. It creates distance, and in that distance, clarity.

This elevated perspective now anchors my work.

Through my paintings, I frame fragments of land and water as glimpses caught in a viewcatcher. The merging of coastline and sea mirrors our own internal landscapes: shifting, evolving, never entirely fixed.

My practice is rooted in introspection. By stepping above the landscape, I am also stepping inward. Each work invites the viewer to to look closer, and to notice where their own boundaries soften..where curiosity leads, and where imagination begins.

Commitment

Each painting is conceived as a singular work.

I believe in the presence of an original. The texture of layered pigment, the subtle shifts in tone, the physical depth that cannot be replicated. A painting carries the energy of its making: the pauses, the revisions, the instinctive marks that exist only once. For this reason, my practice does not centre on mass production or open-edition prints. It is a reflection of integrity. Each work stands alone.

On occasion, I may release a small number of carefully considered limited editions. These are rare exceptions.

The commitment remains the same: to preserve the intimacy, intention, and individuality of every piece.

Technology & Art

Entering the art world was daunting. I carried a persistent imposter syndrome. After all, I didn’t study art. Far from it. My background is in engineering, and I’ve built a career in technology and AI. I often wondered if that made me ill-suited to create meaningful work.

I no longer think that. The tension between these two worlds is not a weakness. It is a strength.

Technology has trained me to recognise patterns, question assumptions, and see the big picture. AI has sharpened my understanding of perception, scale and abstraction. And yet, in an era of infinite digital capabilities, I choose the singular, the handmade, the irreplaceable. Each painting exists only once. My refusal to mass print may slightly foolish, but it is deliberate.

The dichotomy between careers gives my practice clarity. One world rewards scale; the other insists on presence. In a world of endless replication, I choose limitation. In a culture of acceleration, I choose slowness.

In exploring how technology and art can coexist, I developed my own viewcatcher: a way of mapping each painting onto satellite imagery, allowing the real-world landscape and its abstracted forms to meet, overlap, and converse