I was blessed with a simple and rich early childhood, spent running free on a small holding in an area known as Benoni. I woke up free to spend our days running wild. I had trees to climb, gardens to eat out of, ponds to swim in, and a room... a room called The Playroom.

In this room, you were free to do anything, without one single thought for consequence.

In the centre of The Playroom, there was a table made especially for us, its legs were made in a way that they could grow as we grew. And on this special table, you were free to create anything you could dream of in any way that pleased you.
I have a memory of my small hands and arms, covered in that swampy green color that is a common sign of having gone way too far, my fingers running little waves all along the edge of our table. My brother and sister opposite me, streaks of swamp green in their messy hair, and swamp green on their laughing faces, as they came closer and went away, and came closer again, basically doing some sort of breast stroke on the spot in the paint that covered every inch of our table.

So much paint, so much canvas, so much creative freedom. In a room where if you wanted to, you could open a suitcase of coloring pens and color in the tiny block pattern of the linoleum floor. You could melt your wax crayons in the flame of a candle, or use the dog's paws as stamps.
You just did whatever it was you found yourself doing with an endless, magical supply of materials that would be there, just waiting, neatly in the cupboard for you to come get whatever you needed.

And when you got bored or tired, or cold, or hungry, you left The Playroom and got looked after. Then, if your heart so desired, you could return to this fantastic room, and like true magic, everything would be back on its place. The dog washed and happily drying off in a sunbeam, everything clean and ready for you to start your next creative adventure.

It is this gift of creative freedom and these artistic adventures that shaped me.
I love to paint freely, to splash and flick paint. It is these haphazard but shapely little tendrils and blobs that a whole painting could be painted around, and this technique that forms the body of my style.
I hope, through my art, to transcend the feeling of joyful freedom I still get when I am able to paint in this way.