My Orderly Chaos: Behind the Scenes of My Art Process

It usually starts with something that doesn’t belong. A deer in a hallway. A human-sized lobster on a bed. A Victorian chair floating in the sea. My brain tosses out odd combinations, and I chase the ones that make me pause and wonder.

I’m drawn to that precise moment when something is about to happen - or just did, and the aftermath is hanging in the air. I dwell on emotions.

I don’t sketch obsessively beforehand. I dive in. Acrylics or watercolour, but usually acrylic. The canvas becomes a playground for intuitive choices - sometimes brilliant, sometimes baffling. Layers build up. Shapes emerge. Then disappear. I build, destroy, rebuild.

Occasionally, the title bosses me around. It shows up midway and declares: “This painting is called Opposites Attract. Make it work.” And somehow, I do.

I rarely know exactly what I’m painting until it’s finished. My process is like hosting a dinner party for characters I’ve never met. They show up dressed strangely and leave behind clues to a story. I just try to capture the scene before they vanish.

In the end, I want my art to feel like a puzzle you don’t need to solve—but still want to keep staring at.