Drawn to Decay

Decay is at the heart of everything I make. It’s not just a visual or textural fascination—it’s a bit deeper than that. But at the same time it was kind of an accident. In hindsight, it’s easy to say I was always obsessed with it, but I wasn’t—self destruction is probably more like it. I think that on some subconscious level though, I was drawn to the beauty of broken or breaking things because I was pretty broken myself. 

Now, as an artist, I can say stuff like… it reflects the natural order of life, the inevitable breakdown of things, and the strange beauty that emerges in that process… which it does. And I guess it works on quite a few levels for me too. 

First, there’s the personal aspect. I am decaying. Let’s face it, we all are. Time just fucking flies by right? It alters our bodies, shifts our perceptions, makes us hyper-aware of our own transience. There’s something profound in that realisation. Finally starting to understand oneself, embracing the slow transformation, and eventually moving into a state of acceptance about who we are and whatever comes next. At least that’s my experience. And that makes the idea of decay not just an end; but an infinite loop—a necessary step in the cycle.

Then, there’s the broader, more unsettling reality of societal, environmental, and moral decay. Look around—the world is falling apart. Overcrowding, overconsumption, and overproduction define our era. We make too much stuff, most of it pointless, just to keep the machine running. Capitalism and materialism have created the conditions for explosive population growth, and now we’re trapped in a system that is eating itself alive. My work doesn’t scream this message; the subject matter merely alludes to it. The abstraction leaves space for interpretation, but the layers, the textures, and the way materials interact—these are all echoes of that cycle of destruction and excess.

And finally, there’s the aesthetic allure of decay. Nature has a way of breaking things down that is cool. Stone wears away, revealing intricate layers and unexpected colors. Metal and paint rust into wild, chaotic compositions that no human hand could replicate (I’m trying). Leaves transition through a spectrum of colors before disintegrating into the earth. Even the things we build—bridges, buildings, roads—are all subject to the relentless force of time. In their breakdown, new forms, textures, and unintended beauty emerge. And that’s what I try to capture. 

An in-situ shot of a painting that I’m still working on that was inspired by a length of rusty old railway line.

Decay is not just destruction—it’s transformation. And for me, it’s an endless source of inspiration for my work.