As a child, I painted daily—walls, paper, furniture... occasionally the dog—until the 1980s arrived with their shoulder pads and sobering mantra, “get a real job, dear.” So, off I trotted from my homeland, England, to the electric chaos of New York, courtesy of Saatchi & Saatchi advertising, trading my brushes for boardrooms. I built a life, raised a family, and climbed the marketing ladder in heels far too high. But life—or fate—has a way of boomeranging us back to our beginnings, doesn’t it?

After writing my memoir, My Mother Next Door, he creative floodgates burst open again. Suddenly, every song, sunset, and overheard conversation became colour, shape, and motion—demanding to be poured onto canvas.

Now, with music in my years and a lifetime of stories in my bones, I return to painting—not as a pastime, but as a lifeline. I blend abstraction and representation the way a good Brit blends tea: instinctively, and without overthinking. Painting is a dance between me and the canvas—a playful nod to my 'Dancing Queen' era—where rhythm, colour, and intuition lead.

Through each piece, I offer not answers, but connection—a visual whisper that says, “You’re not alone, love.” This is art as energy. As presence. As cheeky rebellion with a splash of grace. 

"Quite frankly, it’s the most honest conversation I’ve ever had—and I’m finally not afraid to speak in full colour.”