Thoughts on Inspiration

More often than not, the inspiration for my work doesn’t come as a sudden bolt of realisation but rather as a small glimmer of an idea, caught on a walk or glimpsed from the window of a car or train or experienced during a swim or surf in the sea.

The word ‘inspiration’ comes from the Latin ‘inspirare’ meaning to ‘breathe into’ and historically held divine connotations by its connection with the word ‘spiritus’, meaning ‘breath’ but also ‘spirit’. In modern language, we might use it more often to describe a sudden burst of motivation or a flash of genius, but, for me, I experience it as something that catches the eye, lifts the heart and instils a curiosity and a desire to recreate and share this feeling or experience with others. It could be anything that I experience in nature, for example the swaying branches of a tree during a storm, a flock of birds seen rising over a reed bed or a full moon in a clear sky. It is these moments, rather than an accurate resemblance of a landscape, that are important to me in my work.

I record these small moments either through sketches, notes or photographs, or just hold them in memory for retrieval at a later date. The sketches I make don’t need to hold a great deal of information but just enough to recall the feeling and memory of that place in time. These ideas may sit untouched for months or even years before I get around to revisiting them.

I often get asked if there are any places in particular that I find the most inspiring, and, looking back on my previous work, it is apparent that many of my pieces are inspired by the places where water meets land. Perhaps as humans we are all drawn to these watery places, which give a sense of peace and connection to nature, but, for me, they are also very interesting from a visual perspective, as they hold a wealth of contrasts and dualities and infinite possibilities to explore in the printmaking studio.

I feel very fortunate to live in Wales, a place where the landscape is so varied, from the crashing waves of the Atlantic onto a craggy shore to the deep stillness of the water’s edge of a lake. I can’t help coming back to these places time and time again as a source of inspiration, exploring the contrasts between darkness and light, movement and stillness, coolness and warmth, chaos and calm. The possibilities are endlessly exciting!