The more I paint images of the forest, the more I see trees as a cipher — a kind of encoding, a representation of something else. This painting finally declared itself to me after a few weeks of alternately applying, layering, and removing pigment. 'Natural Theatre' 120 x 100 x 4 cm Oil & Cold Wax on Canvas Painting as Excavation This is painting as extrusion or excavation — not unlike a sculptor releasing a figure embedded in a marble block, or an archaeologist revealing an

This can't possibly be one of my paintings — or so you might think. Where is the impasto, the heavy texture and mark-making, the lively handling of paint that characterises my usual way of working? This was, in fact, my style some two decades ago. Whilst clearing a working space in my garage recently, I came across a large MDF board sandwiched between a couple of old doors and dismantled bunk beds. It was covered in dust and cobwebs, and I thought it might serve as a makeshif

Mike Tyson's remark has always struck me as unexpectedly apt for painting. You can plan a surface, intend a particular quality of light, work toward a specific resolution — and then the painting refuses. What happens next is where the real work begins.

After several years of working with oil and cold wax, I have come to understand the medium less as a set of techniques and more as a set of conditions. This post reflects on what those conditions are, and how they have shaped the way I think about painting.