If one of your painted birds (Terry) suddenly hopped off the canvas and started talking, what would you hope it said to the viewer?

There’s always one isn’t there… That person who just has to point out the obvious… barking out instructions and advice, but I think it’s falling on deaf ears! So, it’s not so much what he says, but how and why he says it. Really Terry just wants to be one of the gang, fitting in, included…I think in all my pictures there is a little, and sometimes a lot, of me tucked away and although I do often feel like I’m outside looking in, I really hope I’m not barking instructions!  

Your figures and animals often feel mid-moment—caught leaping, hovering, or balancing. What do you think is more interesting to paint: the jump, the flight, or the landing?

That’s a really insightful question… And it’s Definitely the jump and leap. It’s often about that little inner voice within me that’s always urging me too just have a go, and although I can be such a nervous Nelly, and don’t take that plunge, at least my characters can live out my dreams. I really try and show how one little leap of faith can help put a spring back in your step and create a whole new you 

You strip images back to bold colour and simple form. What’s the last detail you usually let go of—and why is that the hardest goodbye?

I think being drawn to a love of simplicity I try and create a more illustrative style in my work and it’s actually a really long process for me, not having had a formal art background, and desperately wishing I had… Note to anyone young who may be reading this, always follow your passions and dreams and don’t let anyone stand in your way… I tend to perhaps overcomplicate things at the start of creating a new image.

Something will pop in my head, for example with ’Nicky’ The cyclist, I was flying down a little slope in Leamington on my trusty bobbin bike, when I just stuck my legs out and thought of when I was young and feeling freedom and exhilaration. I then draw the overall picture and keep reducing the lines until I’m happy. The hardest bit I find is constantly fighting the urge to make it realistic when painting. 

Many of your characters feel joyful, slightly absurd, and unapologetically themselves. Are they portraits of people you know, parts of yourself, or complete strangers who wandered in?

They are definitely all of those things and as I am totally absurd you can guess they are based on me! Sometimes my wobbly thighs or startled expression will be so slightly obvious, but they don’t tend to look like me… I really wouldn’t want to subject anyone to that!

At the heart of nearly every picture I create is the hope that the viewer will be able to connect in some way, making them smile, connect and possibly recognise themselves or someone they love. If you are going to have a picture hanging on your wall, you need something that every day evokes warmth love and happiness

Humour appears again and again in your work. Do you ever use it as a disguise for something more vulnerable—or is joy the point in itself?

Oh, you are a very clever interviewer… Without ‘Hopping’ onto the psychology sofa, I’ve tried to use humour since I was quite young to hide all my insecurities which I think can be quite crippling for so many people. I think many people find it easier to make people laugh with them rather than at them and so this is a really big part of my personality.

Also, I do find humour in so many things, you’ve only got to see certain dogs strutting down the street to have the whole conversation of what they are thinking churning around in my head. Now there’s a really good idea for a book…