I have to admit that I can’t abide clichés and yet I find myself using them when I’m at a loss for words, I cringe into my coffee whilst typing, or indeed uttering a clichéd statement, but there are times when only a cliché will do.
Every time someone asks me where I get my inspiration from I pause for a moment, I’m thinking, I’d love to say something ingenious or imaginative, but all I can think of is ‘from nature’, because, a cliché it might be, but it is true.
As an artist I feel a need to replicate the beauty I see around me, how I see it, how it makes me feel. The crashing waves of the sea on to rocks, the mist enveloping a landscape at dawn, the detail and texture of a bird’s feathers and wings. Everything I make is a one of a kind piece and of course I cannot duplicate nature, but I can use it to inform and motivate me.
When I was young I didn’t appreciate what was around me. My Mum would often point things out; the wonderful colours of autumn, the purple-blue blanket of bluebells in the woods, or the clusters of primroses growing from the rock face of a cliff (as she crashed the car into the side of the said cliff, but that’s another story). I would just shrug, disinterested, taking for granted all that was there but never really looking at it. Now, however, I can’t get enough. I find I can stare at a mountain and appreciate its majesty, or study the engraved bark of an aged oak tree for hours.
When I think about the world the way that it is, the horror in the news, the shocking cruelty and harm that humans do to each other, the lack of respect for our planet, our animals and ourselves, I often have to look at our landscape or at the sea, even at a new flower beginning to grow, to remind myself that there is still beauty and peace all around, and from that peace I find a way to work, and what is even better is that I can also reproduce that feeling of peace when I sit down to create my art.