Mark shared something that really stuck with me: he rarely draws from life. He keeps sketchbooks and draws from memory, and he doesn’t cut from printed sources like magazines or newspapers. Everything he uses, he makes. I recognise this instinct as I do something similar myself.

The galleries are one of only three venues in Fife where works from the Fife Collection are displayed, though the full collection is preserved in Glenrothes. Its ongoing relevance underscores the enduring impact of Nairn’s legacy and the importance of local galleries in sustaining artistic culture.

The concept for a new artwork often begins in an abstract way. It might stem from a theme, a composition I want to experiment with, a sentence that inspires me, a feeling I’m trying to express, or even a dream or moment of déjà vu.

This month’s post is a bit of a brain dump on my experience of creating Inner Worlds and finally getting the collection over the line. It has been a journey of wearing two very different hats: the artist and the business owner.

Lately, I’ve been sitting with my insecurities.

There’s a pressure I feel as an artist — to be serious, to be edgy, to be sophisticated. Somewhere along the way, I internalised the idea that colourful, whimsical, novel work can’t be deep or intellectual.

My current works may seem dreamy and whimsical, but they often carry a deeper emotional truth underneath.

Both my grans filled their homes with patterned linoleum, wild wallpaper and textured carpets — layers upon layers of visual stimulation that have undeniably influenced my art.

A pivotal moment in the development of this series came during a visit to the Scottish National Museum in Edinburgh. There, I saw a Tibetan Thangka painting in person. I’d come across them before at the V&A in London, but seeing one up close and in detail was a turning point.

Through this blog, I aim to provide an honest and transparent account of my experiences, challenges, and triumphs as an artist.