Art wasn’t only a hobby for me, it still stands as my escape mechanism; my craft is presented through the sorrows and fortune I have encountered throughout my life experiences.  

As a young child, I was quite troublesome and found it difficult to obtain consistent focus on school. My passion for art began at a young age when I realised I could express myself through my talent. Unfortunately, my mother was suffering from a form of cancer called Lupus, therefore severely feeble to look after my younger brother and me.  At the age of six, I was sent to a care home in Lake District called The Grange, a home specifically catered for 'difficult' children. Being the only black individual in school, I found it difficult to engage with other kids thus I started to play on my skill, art. My art teacher was impressed by my work and would often tell me he’d never taught a pupil so young with so much talent; which restored confidence and drive, in me. His name was Dave Turner, a highly established artist within his own social circle; he would often spend hours of his own personal time tutoring and supporting me with my art. Gerry Blood, was an established painter, another artist who also closely supported me; he had painted the national Tour de France paintings as well as the official Olympic rings.

By the age of 10, I had experimented with most artistic mediums such as pencil, oil paints, watercolours, pastels and ink. Throughout my years at The Grange, I finally returned to London at the age of 13 to reside with my father. He was the creative seed that I consumed inspiration and skill from. Like many young boys, I wanted to emulate my father's art and standards which respectably allowed me to form a relationship and a bond with the man who wasn’t consistently around for my childhood.