• For the last few years I’ve been wrestling with a question that I know many artists are asking:

    If AI can create beautiful pictures in seconds, what is the point of being an artist?

    I realised that what I was feeling wasn’t simply anxiety about technology. It was grief. The loss of a certainty about what it meant to be an artist.

    In this video I begin to explore an idea that has been taking shape in my mind.

    Perhaps we’ve misunderstood the role of the artist.

    I imagine culture as a fertile valley that every generation inherits. We all draw from it – its books, music, paintings, films, discoveries and ideas. This is our common wealth: not money, but the shared richness of human experience.

    As artists, writers and creators, our task is not simply to take from that valley but to tend it. To repair a broken gate. To cultivate neglected ground. To plant something new that future generations can enjoy.

    AI may change how images are made, but it doesn’t change our responsibility to contribute.

    Perhaps that has always been the real work of the artist.

    I’d be interested to know whether this idea resonates with you. Please leave a comment below, or get in touch through the contact page.


  • Brownsea Island, Dorset. Watercolour postcard sketch made from life on the beach and recreated later in the studio while reflecting on observation, memory and the purpose of art.

    This weekend we visited Brownsea Island and spent a quiet afternoon on the beach. The weather was grey and cool at first, but when the sun finally appeared my wife and a newly-discovered relative decided to brave the sea.

    While they waded into the cold water, I pulled out a small watercolour postcard and made a quick sketch.

    Looking at it later, I realised something. People often ask how I developed my loose sketching style.

    I don’t think looseness is something you can simply learn. It comes from years of drawing, observing and making mistakes until you finally trust yourself to leave things out.

    In this video I try to recreate the sketch in the studio and discover why it worked in the first place.

    The answer isn’t really about watercolour technique. It’s about attention.

    When we’re sketching, we’re forced to slow down. We notice things. We spend time looking. Every brushstroke becomes attached to a memory of the moment.

    In a world full of photographs, social media, AI-generated images and endless distractions, perhaps that’s the real value of sketching. Not that it produces a picture, but that it helps us pay attention.

    Watch the video below and let me know what you think.

    Can a sketch sometimes tell us more than a photograph?


  • Learn how to draw a roaring angry hippopotamus with this simple step-by-step drawing lesson. We’ll start with a few easy shapes and build them into a powerful hippo with huge teeth, a wide-open mouth, and a fierce expression.

    Hippos may look slow and peaceful when they’re resting in the water, but they are among the most dangerous animals in Africa. When threatened, they can charge at surprising speed and open their mouths incredibly wide to show off their massive tusks.

    In this lesson, we’ll capture some of that power and energy in a fun cartoon style that is easy for beginners to follow.

    Follow along with the video and you’ll have your own angry hippo drawing in just a few minutes.

    Happy drawing!

    Download the pdf help sheet and colouring page here