At the age of ll, the children in my class were asked what we wanted to be when we grew up. I had no hesitation in saying I wanted to be a punk rocker. I wanted a pink mohican, multiple-pierced ears, a ring through my nose and cherry red Dr martens. I was going to be a permanent fixture in Carnaby Street and that was going to be my job. What's that? Being a punk rocker wasn't a job? 'Oh, okay then, I'll be an artist.’ So that was that.
It turns out I was to be lots of things as I made my way into the world as a grown-up, but my love of drawing and writing has never disappeared. I like detail. I like it in writing, in images and in daily life. In fact, I think the everyday details of life are underrated, overlooked or often not noticed at all. I'm one of those nosy people who likes to peep through open curtains as I walk down a dark street.
Imagining the stories of the people inside and those that could be told by the house itself, sets me off on a long journey of wondering. I blame Hitchcock's Rear Window, where James Stewart sits day after day looking into his neighbours windows, watching drama unfold alongside life's mundanity.