As we flew into Chania airport, the sky darkened and next morning the distant Lefka Ori mountains had sparkling white snow capping them.

I like the contrast of gaudy beach items here with the clear seaside light. This painting was created for the colours and movement rather than the forms in the scene…

Little Perhaver beach is a special little cove accessed by a long flight of steep steps, near Gorran Haven. It’s cut off at high tide, and the cliffs leading down to it are absolutely covered in wild flowers.

We were staying in Koroni, near Kalamata in Greece, which has the most beautiful, mile-long beach of sand - as far as the eye can see. This view is looking out across the water to the Taÿgetus mountains and the Mani, just after a terrific storm.

This pieces shows the walk between Sant Martí d'Empúries and L’Escala. It’s a very special section of coastline near Girona and Cadaqués - the homeland of Salvador Dalí, Antoni Gaudí, and Joan Miró, amongst others.

This painting sits within a series made of Gorran Haven walks, painted around late Summer/early Autumn in Cornwall.

The high Cornish stone and earth walls were all sprouting with vivid colour. The scene was almost unpaintable, it had so much life.

This view is East of Gorran Haven in North Cornwall. We were on a midsummer walk, heading back to the main bay. Gorran Haven is a largely unspoilt place; a real, working Cornish village set amongst a few sparsely populated bays.

Rinsey is in the wilder, south-western part of Cornwall: One of those places where the wind sculpts the landscape. Ancient-looking dry stone walls line the lanes around the cliffs, which - at that time of year - are teeming with life and scented flowers.

This is actually from an imagined landscape, it could be Suffolk, from a memory; I’ve spent a lot of time there. It’s part of a series of three of sky and water, each with a different mood.

The Deverills are a set of beautiful, rolling hills between Warminster and Maiden Bradley in Wiltshire. This is an ancient landscape, very near Stone Henge.

When I’m planning to work on a large-scale painting, I’ll first make several initial sketches with paint to develop my technique and to jot down the intended ‘feel’ of the final thing. I often end up liking these initial ideas as much as the final pieces, because they contain the energy of a beginning; of starting something new.

If you sit and paint Cornwall, you quickly become aware that there is so much more to it than the pretty skylines: There is a long history of hard work. Below the surface of the Cornish landscape, there is a legacy of mining, the minerals (tin, copper, ore), and then the sea underneath all that - which is the most powerful element of all.

In these, I was restricting myself to using broad brush strokes and very little colour in order to allude to the fierceness of the Cornish landscape, especially in winter. The works include one large mixed media piece and a series of little monoprints.

This view ended up being almost abstract in style; the snow had the effect of carving up the landscape that way. Buds were just starting up in the hedges, which is why that reddish colour is there. I’ve always liked painting snow because it captures so many different types of light.

If you look hard enough at a snow scene, you’ll start to notice that the colours in the landscape around it become vibrant; they appear exaggerated in contrast with the sterile, clean lines of the snow.

I make Christmas cards from my local snow scene paintings every year. Each design is printed on matt gloss card, and 50% of the proceeds go to the fantastic charity Mary’s Meals.

I often use my sketchbooks to relocate myself and evolve, I want to explore what new marks and techniques I might be able to use within future paintings.