NEW GALLERY, NEW EXHIBITION, NEW H☮PE

There are moments in your career that feel like milestones, and there are moments that feel like genuine turning points. Finishing my gallery and opening it with this first exhibition feels very much like the latter.

For years, I've dreamt of having a space that wasn't just somewhere I made artwork, but somewhere people could come and experience it. A space where I could tell stories through entire exhibitions rather than individual paintings, invite collectors into the environment where the work is created, and have conversations that simply aren't possible when you're standing in the corner of a busy commercial gallery for an hour on opening night.

After months of planning, renovating and getting everything ready, that idea has finally become a reality. My Brighton studio is now home to a private gallery space that I'll be opening by appointment, allowing visitors to spend time with the work, see the studio where every painting begins and experience each exhibition exactly as it was intended.

This feels like a significant step forward, not just because I have a gallery, but because it gives me complete creative freedom. Throughout my career I've been fortunate to work with galleries around the world, but there has always been a practical reality that exhibitions are often made up of available pieces rather than a body of work created specifically to exist together. Having my own gallery changes that completely. I can now develop ideas over months, curate entire exhibitions around a single concept and think about the experience as a whole rather than simply creating paintings individually and hoping they eventually end up on the same wall.

That idea became the starting point for ☮.

I've always been fascinated by symbols and the way something so visually simple can carry so much meaning. Maybe that fascination started years ago after reading Dan Brown's Robert Langdon books, where every symbol seemed to hide another layer of meaning. Ever since then, I've loved the idea that a single image can tell a much bigger story.

Few symbols are as universally recognised as the peace sign, yet at the same time, few ideas seem further away from our everyday reality. We live in a world filled with conflict, division, uncertainty and constant noise, yet we continue to hold onto this simple graphic as a representation of hope. I wanted to explore that contradiction and see how many different conversations could emerge from one familiar symbol.

As the collection developed, I realised I wasn't creating paintings about peace. I was creating different interpretations of what peace means. Some of the works are quiet, some are confrontational, some are playful and some are deeply personal, but together they feel like they belong to the same conversation. There are evolutions of my Reflections portraits, bold graphic iconography, sculptural pieces built from recycled materials and some of the most technically demanding paintings I've ever produced. Every piece challenged me to think differently, not only about the image itself but about how it contributed to the wider narrative of the exhibition.

That has probably been the biggest lesson from creating this collection. When you're making an exhibition rather than simply making paintings, every decision matters. Each piece has to earn its place. It has to add something that wasn't already being said by the others. That process pushed me further than I expected, technically, creatively and conceptually, and I genuinely feel like I've come out the other side a better artist because of it.

One part of the exhibition feels particularly symbolic to me.

Several of the works are made using over a thousand recycled spray paint caps. Those caps came from an old Batman piece that was destroyed while in the care of a gallery several years ago. At the time it was incredibly frustrating, and I kept the caps almost without knowing why. They sat in boxes in the studio for years, attached to a piece of work that no longer existed.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kDr1zu2BGgI

When I started planning PEACE, I found myself looking at them again.

I realised I had a choice. I could continue seeing them as a reminder of something I'd lost, or I could transform them into something entirely new. Those same caps now form peace symbols instead.

Looking back, I don't think I could have chosen a more fitting way to use them. They represent moving forwards rather than looking backwards. They represent rebuilding rather than dwelling on disappointment. They represent taking something connected to anger and frustration and giving it a completely different purpose.

In many ways, that sums up how I feel about this point in my life and career.

I've reached a stage where I'm far less interested in looking over my shoulder and far more interested in asking what comes next. Opening my own gallery isn't about walking away from galleries or changing who I am as an artist. It's about creating another way to share the work, another way to connect with people and another way to tell stories that simply wasn't possible before.

The gallery allows me to invite people into my world rather than simply asking them to view the finished result. Visitors won't just see paintings hanging on walls; they'll see the studio where they're made, the sketches, the ideas, the experiments and the conversations that shape each collection. For me, that's a much more personal and rewarding experience, and I hope it becomes one for the people who visit too.

More than anything, PEACE feels optimistic.

Not because I believe the world is suddenly peaceful, but because I believe optimism is a choice. Just as those old spray paint caps became symbols of peace instead of reminders of frustration, I think we all have the ability to choose what we carry forwards with us. We can't always control the things that happen to us, but we can decide what we create from them.

That's the spirit I wanted this exhibition to embody.

It marks the beginning of a new chapter for me as an artist, the opening of a gallery I've dreamed about for years, and the first opportunity to share my work in exactly the way I've always imagined. I genuinely can't wait to welcome people through the doors, share these stories in person and begin this next stage of the journey together.

If you'd like to visit the gallery, explore the studio where the work is created and spend some time learning more about the stories behind the collection, you can now book a private visit through the Gallery page.