You could always go on changing things but there comes a time when you have to decide to stop.

As a kid I quite fancied the romantic, Bohemian idea of being an artist. I expect I thought I could escape from the difficulties of maths and spelling. Maybe I thought I would avoid the judgement of the establishment.

I've had to do all kinds of jobs to pay the rent. I've even worked in a Cornish tin mine.

I have never subscribed to the Dirty Pallet school of painting.

When I look at some of my old work, the pieces I find most interesting are the ones with people in them.

I have to experiment with methods and I'm trying to find an authentic way of making an equivalent of the living, breathing person within the limits of a single picture.

I never know what it's going to look like. Wouldn't be much point in painting if I already knew the outcome. I have a subject in front of me and I start flooding colour and making marks, I don't know, it's improvisation isn't it?