These figures aren't portraits of a particular person, yet they often feel familiar. They might remind you of someone you know, someone you once were, or simply a moment in your own life.
 
By removing the head, I take away the most obvious marker of identity and allow the body language to tell the story instead. Whether the figure is dressed in a tailored suit with leather shoes or wearing heels, the clothing simply becomes part of the character. The works aren't about gender. They're about presence, posture and the quiet moments we all recognise. A relaxed pose, an open collar, a glass of wine or whisky, the stillness at the end of a long day.
One of the things I enjoy most is balancing realism with expressive painting. From a distance, the figures appear calm and resolved. Up close, they're built from loose brushwork, thick layers of paint, scratched-back surfaces and deliberate drips that reveal the hand of the artist. I never want to hide the process. Those painterly marks bring movement and energy to an otherwise quiet composition.
 
I love the conversation between those two approaches. Realism gives the figure its presence, while the expressive marks remind us that we're looking at paint on canvas, not a photograph. Together they create a tension that feels honest and alive.
 
Without a face, the figure is never fixed as one person. There are no obvious clues to age, race or identity. Instead, the work leaves room for each viewer to bring their own memories and experiences to it. That's what interests me most. Not telling someone exactly who they're looking at, but allowing them to recognise something of themselves in the painting.