Like many artists before me, life has been interesting to say the least. I have countless stories to tell of humour and horror, blessings and failures. But through everything, for me there has been one constant and one thing I have always had faith in - Art.
From as early as I can remember, I was drawing Renaissance ladies in gowns, long and flowing, fragile fingers and arms; their womanly beauty and magical auras saturated my little mind and imagination. As I was growing up, my mother, who passed 22 years ago, painted with china paints until the early hours, and the smell of the turps and linseed would drift into my room as I slept . . . it was a beautiful smell. It meant that mum was creating…
