I paint swimmers. Swimmers in the clear teardrop blue of a manicured pool. Swimmers in the gloop of the Hampstead ponds. Swimmers in a spray of seawater. Swimmers I see. Swimmers I remember. Swimmers I imagine. Why? Because I find that each moment of the swim comes with a special sort of euphoria. The anticipation of release from gravity. The slip back into a primitive home. The sun trapping in the salt after. A release and rebirth.
 
Oil on Metal
10cm by 10cm 
Framed and ready to hang