As I've mentioned elsewhere on my website, I've gradually found myself weaving the philosophy of Yūgen into all of my work, but particularly my Abstract and Urban Pop series. I'm fascinated by the idea that not everything needs to reveal itself immediately. The more time you spend with a painting, the more it quietly reveals about itself.

It's there in the layers of texture that catch the light differently throughout the day. It's there in the little details people don't always notice straight away. It's even there in my handcrafted floating oak frames. I love the small shadow gap around the edge of the canvas. You never quite see everything, and I like that. It quietly suggests there's always a little more beyond what you're looking at.

It's taken me many years to understand that being an artist isn't really about painting. It's about curiosity. It's about constantly experimenting, solving problems, making mistakes, and refusing to become comfortable. That curiosity doesn't stop with paint. I love experimenting with materials, but over the years I've realised I'm drawn to authenticity in almost everything I create. If I want something to look like concrete, I'd rather use something that actually contains concrete than simply fake it with paint. That's exactly how my Industrial series evolved, using real concrete-based products and even concrete dust.

The same philosophy runs through much of my work. Real vintage book pages. Real solid oak frames. Real concrete. Real texture. Real craftsmanship. It's not that I dislike clever imitations—I simply find the real thing far more interesting. I think authenticity has a presence that's difficult to fake.

The rise of AI has changed the creative landscape in remarkable ways. Like every artist working today, my work has almost certainly contributed to training these systems. Rather than fearing that, I see it as another chapter in the history of image-making. The easier it becomes to generate endless digital pictures, the more I believe people will value work that has genuinely been made by human hands.

I've also had my work copied over the years—by overseas companies, by other artists, and even by businesses using my name. That's frustrating at times, but it's also part of being a working artist. Every generation learns from the one before it. I've been inspired by countless artists myself. The challenge isn't avoiding influence; it's transforming it into something that becomes unmistakably your own.