Vermilion
Two weeks to go.
It's a strange place to be. The work is finished. The invites are going out. In a couple of weeks I'll be opening my studio as part of Birmingham Open Studios during the day, then heading over to Vermilion for the private view in the evening. It feels like everything I've been working towards this year is about to collide in one weekend.
I've been thinking a lot about where Vermilion actually came from.
When I first landed on the title, the first thing that came into my head wasn't painting at all. It was horror films. I've always loved them. Proper old cult horror. The Exorcist, Stephen King, Pet Sematary. All those slightly mad films that stay with you long after you've watched them.
Then I started thinking about Carrie. Not just because of the blood, but because of that final prom scene in Brian De Palma's 1976 film. Everything is just red. Redder than red. It almost stops feeling like blood and starts feeling like emotion. Then there's the split screen. I'd seen the film loads of times before, but this time I suddenly noticed it differently. Those fragmented scenes reminded me of the split heads I'd already been painting. It didn't feel like I was forcing an idea. It just felt right.
That's something I've started noticing about the way I work. My subconscious always seems to arrive before my rational thinking does. I don't completely understand why I'm making something while I'm making it. If I stop too early and try to analyse everything, I think I'd probably beat the idea down before it had a chance to become anything. So I've learnt to just follow it.
It's only afterwards that I sit back and ask myself, "What happened there?"
The other day I was sitting in Sainsbury's car park and came across a quote by Alfred Hitchcock: "The only way to get rid of my fears is to make films about them."
It stopped me for a minute.
Maybe that's why I connected with Carrie in the first place. Not because it's a horror film, but because I recognised something in it. Feeling like an outsider. Feeling different. Feeling isolated. I hadn't consciously thought about that until I read the quote. Maybe painting works the same way. Maybe the only way to get rid of certain fears is to paint them head on.
The painting has been leaning against the wall at home for the last few weeks. I keep looking at it. It's quite a difficult thing to look at, if I'm honest. At night it's almost unsettling. I still don't think I've completely caught up with it yet.
Maybe that's always how it's going to be. I think my subconscious gets there first and then, weeks later, my rational mind slowly catches up and starts making sense of it all.
For now, I'm just enjoying sitting with it.
Two weeks to go.
Vermilion
Private View
Saturday 26 September 2026, 6.00pm to 8.30pm
Exhibition
Wednesday 30 September to Saturday 3 October 2026
Open daily, 11.00am to 5.00pm
Venue
The Framers
Hampton Works
Twyning Road
Stirchley
Birmingham
B30 2XZ
I'll also be opening my studio as part of Birmingham Open Studios across both weekends, before heading over to Vermilion for the Private View on Saturday evening.
I hope to see you there.