As a child I was lucky enough to be inspired by wonderful art in my grandmother’s small London flat. She was a German émigré and her collection included Nolde, Chagall and Franz Marc. I loved art, and used my passion for colour to help forge a very successful career in gardens and gardening. I found the extraordinary colour palette of plants a revelation, a mass planting of purples with dashes of blue and red made me vibrate like it was a Rothko.
It was hardly surprising that, discovering my gift as a painter in my early 30’s, was like discovering freedom. This is what I had always wanted to do and I became utterly obsessed, painting through the night as if it were the only thing that existed. When I went to Central St Martins art college to ask about enrolling, the tutor just looked at my art and said, ‘Why? You don’t need our help, you have no fear, just keep going’.
I tentatively showed a painting to a gardening client who had a collection of art that I admired. She wanted to buy it immediately. I was reluctant to sell, as if I was losing something that would diminish me. Her response was spot on. ‘Then don’t show them to me again!’ I sold it to her.
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