My time on the banks of the River Great Ouse drawing ripples and eddies, making paintings with silt, with the river herself –it is all an act of love.

In the river’s floods and rages I feel my own anger.In her ripples and eddies I feel the undulating surface below. In the roots of her riverbanks I sense my strength. In her flow I feel myself unblocking, a long-stifled voice as an artist begin to pour out onto the page.

The river smells of murky, wet moss. She is muddy and messy. She is filled with roots and fish and birds and snakes. She is hairy with reeds and river grass. She rages and destroys yet brings new life where she flows. She is pumped full of sewage and toxic run off seeps into her waters. She is sacred as we spill the of loved ones into her waters. She is the gathering of winding tributaries and laughing Springs. She is collective power and grief and love. She is collective life and joy.

I create with the river because I am water too. My blood vessels dance and flow like rivers dance and flow through land. I create with the river because she reminds me that life is creativity. I create with the river because I see myself in her. Because I am her. Spilling into everything. Pumped full of patriarchal sh*t and microplastics. I feel the undercurrent of rage and tears surge to the surface. 

I create with a fierce love for life.

I create with the river as an act of love.