” I discovered my hidden talent five years ago on my birthday, thanks to an unexpected gift: a set of acrylic paints.
I wish I could say it was love at first sight, but those paints sat untouched in my caravan for two years. It wasn’t fear of failure that held me back—it was fear of starting. But the day I finally picked up a brush, something awakened in me.
Once I began, I couldn’t stop. Painting became a compulsion, a passion. I was drawn to the vibrant chaos of it—the need to recreate giant, blossoming jugs of flowers, the brightest pinks, and the turquoise seas of my Caribbean childhood. It was as though years of bottled-up creativity had finally found an outlet.
On the surface, my paintings appear bright and joyful, but there’s more to them. Beneath the vivid colours lie the shadows of loss and the echoes of childhood trauma. Painting is where I reconcile these emotions—where I can pour out my darkest thoughts but also celebrate life and its beauty.
Now, I paint every day, making up for lost time. My studio is overflowing with work, and my pieces can be found in galleries across the country.
For me, painting is an explosion of feelings, a way to translate joy and pain into something tangible. Every stroke is a part of my story—a way to make sense of the chaos, to heal, and to embrace everything that makes life so amazing and beautiful.