My work is a map of the landscape, inspired by stories and the people and the place where I live and where I grew up. It’s about having an innate connection to the land and the stories, it’s a feeling deeper than just nostalgia; it’s a part of your being. It is something most people relate to, the sense of place and belonging.

I work mainly in stone; because of its energy, permanence and tactile nature. The idea for the work often comes from a poem or recitation or a word heard in passing, or a feeling I get when I hear a story or am in a particular place or spot in the road. A lot of my work is connected to the passage of time and the changes that occur in the landscape and ourselves. I like to use some found objects to add to the story of the pieces; such as bars from old gates and elements from buildings. I use gold leaf and some other precious elements such as lapis lazuli to express reverence for the preciousness of the people and the landscape that the pieces represent.

My sculptures are maps of landscape and memory. The pieces I make are reminiscent of and inspired by the place where I grew up, the fields, hills and ruins where we played. We are connected to everything; I believe that the land and the objects around you influence your being and soul.

I often work with what could be called wild stones; stones that appear while digging a drain or ploughing a field. They seem to have a different energy about them; particularly when the stone is polished, when it is touched it has a sensual nature that moves something in your core.

When I begin to work on a piece, I would normally have it thought through and roughly sketched in various materials, such as clay, cardboard, paper or whittled in wooden pieces. But then when I begin to work on the stone, it generally takes on a life of its own and I discard the sketches and bring it back to the true origin of the idea. Sometimes I leave the natural/broken edge on pieces which had been quarried; sometimes it shows the age of the stone with its cracks, fissures and fossils.

I think of the pieces as poems/hymns to a landscape. Sometimes it feels like a requiem to or lament for a changed world. But the memories still remain. It is hard to resist touching these pieces, and you can feel the energy of the stone drawing you in to its softness and smoothness.