All my art begins outdoors

“Direct observation” means you've witnessed something yourself, in person, as it happened, in the place it happened. It's also a kind of art.

So all my ideas come from detecting something while I'm out and about.

It's why the landscapes in my paintings and prints are places I've actually been to, spent time in – I've experienced them directly.

Inspiration isn't fussy about its origins

All landscapes (and some cityscapes) inspire me. Including the mundane, odd, and not obviously attractive scenes.

The exact 'where' does not matter; the type of landscape does not matter; the time of day and season does not matter. There's no recipe which reliably conjures up ideas for prints or paintings.

This is okay, because as I've hinted above, anything at any time can spark an idea.

I find I don't need a magic recipe. It would actually be nice if I could stop the ideas coming sometimes. I have far too many to ever work‑up, and it's frustrating.

The weather is about the only thing that does affect whether ideas flow: I get too cold to function in rain and high winds, so I tend to retreat to the studio.

A landscape whispers shouts 'paint me!'

The flicker that catches my eye, can be a number of qualities in my surroundings: a composition (the shapes in the scene), the atmospherics (light and dark), and colours and textures.

Sometimes it's a particular thing, such as a tree that's intriguing, spectacular, or unique.

Saying all that, I'm not always sure what's triggered me to sense an artwork lies before me.

Often, something just says 'paint me' and then I have to figure out what that something is.

*I'm partially quoting from a description of creative genius Steve Jobs understanding of a fundamental truth. He understood how fragile ideas are. They come quickly, but are lost even faster.

The challenge is catching these bubbles floating on the wind before they pop. When you're not even sure what you're seeing inside them, it can be impossible.

I don't know what ratio of ideas I lose, they go too quickly!

Practice helps of course. I like to think I'm good at getting hold of these iridescent muses, and pressing them into a visual note.

Strong ideas can surface in the most inconvenient situations. It's why I've lots of different approaches to recording an inspiration.

If I'm on location in 'artist' mode, then I've both the time and equipment to make a thorough record of the artwork I think I've seen.

My car boot is permanently filled with various 'sketching kit bags', usually one of my tripod easels, umpteen wet panel carriers in different sizes (each with toned canvas boards in them), sketchbooks, paper pads, and a drawing board.

Then there's a folding camping (sketching) seat, hat and gloves, warm heavy 'painting' coat, a light weatherproof coat, and wellies. Yes, there's not much room for the shopping – I've got my priorities are right.

If I don't have any of that with me, then last resorts is a photograph. Thank goodness for smart phones, though I'm often carrying a camera on the off-chance.

The very worst case is driving with no means of pulling off the road.

Then I have to cast the location, and what caught my eye, to memory. And attempt to hold on to it until I can scribble down what I can remember.

Google street view is a great tool for tracking down where the viewpoint was and to plan a return. It's then a question of trying to revisit the place with a sketchbook.

The most important thing is to record the painting / print idea, otherwise a gem of an idea may never see the light.