I have long been fascinated at the point where sleep happens. That moment when reality slips away into another place, a place of sleep, that wonderful place where the dream-time happens. A place where you are whisked off into other worlds, where you stand at the top of high towers or the ever reoccurring dream where the tap starts dripping the river starts rising or the sea engulfs you, at the point where you might just drown, then you wake and realize it has been another night where you drowned in your dreams. Tell me, why is it that in those beautiful dreams, that you don't want to wake from, you wake at the crucial moment and the dream has gone and as hard as you might you cannot go back in to the book-marked place where you woke. I am not disclosing those dreams!
I have sketchbooks full of people sleeping, friends, loves, people on streets, I am fascinated by the moment that we let go and sleep overtakes us and we are vulnerable and free to travel anywhere with anybody and do anything.