I've been drawing and painting since I was old enough to sit up in the pram - my mother used to leave me with paper and paints at the bottom of the garden in Surrey while she listened to the radio and did the housework.

I was lucky - there was a lot to draw - the squirrels and daffodils in Spring; the clouds, rain and snow in Winter; the bees and blackberries in Summer.

On good days, when my dad got home from the coalmine early, I'd be allowed back in and after warming myself by the fire, I'd start a series of still lives and kitchen sink sketches until the candles burnt down and it was time for bed. Happy days as long as there was bread on the table and water in the taps.

That was how it all started for me and I've hardly looked back since though I've been around the world a few times and the world's been around me - all the way from Surrey to Derby, from Liverpool to Aldeburgh, from Lesbos to Fiuggi, from Paris to Harwich.

For what it's worth, here are a few marks I've made along the way in these Shifting Sands - images out on the beach in the moonlight for a while till the tide comes in.