Travel has always been a source of inspiration—especially across Europe and North Africa, where street art and vibrant public spaces are embraced. The mosaics of Gaudí, the tiled courtyards of Tunisia, and the bold designs of Hundertwasser deeply influenced me. These experiences made me want to bring more colour and creativity into our often grey urban landscapes—transforming public spaces and lifting spirits.

Over the years, I’ve come to see mosaic not just as an art form, but as a deeply therapeutic process. There’s something powerful in breaking old things apart and reassembling them into something new and beautiful. Many of the materials I use—old crockery, worn tiles, beach glass—carry quiet stories. They’ve served meals, been held in hands, and shared in connection. To give them new life feels like a kind of quiet restoration, both personal and communal.

I love that these humble objects, made from earth and pigment and touched by unknown makers, still have so much to offer.

Setting out as a self-employed artist allowed me to do more than just create—I could also share. I’ve worked with people from all walks of life, especially those who may not believe in their own creativity. Mosaic is wonderfully accessible to adults and children alike. Even first-timers can create something lasting, personal and beautiful, which builds confidence and brings joy.

Through workshops and community projects, I’ve seen first-hand how creativity brings people together. It strengthens mental health, fosters belonging, and makes tangible improvements to our shared environments. There’s magic in turning broken pieces into something whole—and doing it together.

More than thirty years on, I still feel incredibly lucky. Mosaic has given me a way to live creatively, connect deeply, and contribute meaningfully. Every person I’ve worked with has brought their own story and spark, and I believe each one has left with a sense of empowerment and joy.