
Extra Magic Time 1 & 2
This duo of dreamlike artworks is inspired by the artist’s love of Peruvian folk-style pottery churches — charming, curvy, and joyfully imperfect. First discovered in a museum in St Andrews, these small ceramic churches sparked a connection that would become central to this series.
In both Extra Magic Time 1 and 2, the church acts as a visual anchor, a concept borrowed from Walt Disney. When designing Disneyland, Disney believed every land needed a focal point to draw people in — something he called a “big weenie.” Think of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle in Fantasyland or Space Mountain in Tomorrowland. Here, the pottery churches serve the same purpose, pulling the viewer into the scene and anchoring the imagination.
There’s also a spiritual element behind the series. For the artist, making art has always felt like a form of religion. It requires belief, ritual, and persistence — even when things feel uncertain. As a child, the idea that living kindly and peacefully would lead to heaven left a lasting impression. That same devotion is echoed in the artist’s creative life — in staying committed to something and feeling fulfilled in return.
Extra Magic Time is a playful celebration of fantasy and dedication. It reflects inner worlds shaped by wonder, belief, and the rewards of a faithful creative practice.
Extra Magic Time 1
At the centre of Extra Magic Time 1 stands a tall, elongated church inspired by the charming folk-style pottery churches of Peru — a recurring motif in this series. It’s surrounded by painted versions of real rocks collected from my granny Vera’s garden, grounding the work in personal memory and nostalgia.
Close to the church door leans a tired, hunched clown, resting on a barrel with one elbow propped. He looks worn out and out of place, like someone who’s lost the joke. I’ve felt like him often throughout my creative journey — silly, tired, and uninspired. These are the moments when faith in the process matters most.
The scene is teeming with life. Playful characters, flowering plants, and surreal details fill the space, all orbiting the central church. One of my favourites is the large carousel horse leaping high over the roof — a joyful, dreamlike presence lifted straight from my childhood visits to the Kirkcaldy Links Market. These hobby horses appear often in my subconscious and dreams, likely because they were my first encounter with true maximalist ornamentation.
This artwork is deeply personal, blending fantasy with fragments of real life. It’s about devotion, nostalgia, and holding onto wonder even when the magic feels far away. If you hadn’t guessed already — I’m a maximalist at heart.







