Strangely enough, I was never particularly into your classic old-school comics like DC/Marvel. During my undergraduate studies, I found myself naturally creating short, humorous, and strange visual narratives when experimenting with new mediums. I played with animation, which is where my simplistic character that we see today first came to be, as I wanted a basic human figure to create a ‘walk cycle’ with. Soon after this, during the lockdown, I began watching live streams of animal enclosures from zoos, and I would draw lots of quick sketches of the animals pottering around. When watching a penguin live stream, I imagined ridiculous narratives that a penguin might experience in some strange alternate universe. I created a 4-panel comic with one of my penguin ideas, which I’d say is one of my earliest comic creations, and can actually still be found at the bottom of my Instagram feed.

As I’m sure everybody can relate, the lockdown really did send the mind to some weird places. The short visual narratives became a way to express this oddity - whether it was a cynical commentary on what was happening in the world at the time, a humorously twisted perspective on mundane everyday life, or an insight into what your pet dog thinks about you, the comics became a relatable reflection of life in all its strangeness.

I come from a small town with very limited opportunities or career prospects, which meant that throughout my childhood I hadn’t fathomed making much of myself, let alone through my artwork. This means that I approached my practice without having intentions to impress art critics, but instead to express myself and speak to people like me, normal people, on a human level, poking fun at life and having a laugh. When you grow up in unfortunate conditions you find value in laughter and imagination, so when my work can relate to someone’s normal life and encourage a smile, it makes me feel good.

The best ideas for my work come from the passing thoughts that flash through my mind, silly nuggets of an idea that must be captured quickly. The inspiration can come from anywhere - a documentary, a conversation, an advert, a phrase, and the second I think “imagine this happened instead” or “I wonder what the dog’s thinking”, it’s a comic idea. I’ve recently started keeping a list of ideas in the Notes app on my phone, which has actually transformed my productivity. No thought or idea escapes me now, and I have a long list of ridiculous concepts and terrible, tiny drawings to pull from.

As you may have noticed, my style is quite visually simplistic. There are many reasons for this, such as keeping the work approachable for not-art-people and the joke not getting lost in complex visuals, but it also allows me to create and share comics quickly. If I labour over a comic for longer than a couple of hours, it’s probably no good. It’s so easy to overwork a joke and make it difficult to understand. I’m aware that when I’m sharing work on social media, I must work under the assumption that I will only hold the viewer's attention for a matter of seconds before they scroll on. In those few seconds, the joke must be understood. I can’t ask people to get their brain cogs turning to comprehend what I’m trying to say - you know what they say, if you have to explain a joke, it’s not funny anymore.

How often I publish them sometimes varies, I’d say a maximum of 5 times a week, a minimum of once a week. Now that I have my Notes app list, I’m on fire.

I have always had a relationship with art. Some of my earliest memories are sitting with a large plastic box full of paper, cardstock, stickers and glue, crafting away at my mum’s table. I have some relatives who are artistic, but I only saw them very infrequently, so I do wonder if it’s in the genes. When I did see them, though, I remember being in awe. My nan created mosaics, my auntie made wood carvings and jewelry, and my uncle made models using nothing but matchsticks (which still, to this day, is one of the most resourceful, creative and impressive things I’ve ever seen). They did their crafts with no formal training or education, so seeing these magnificent creations come from nothing but raw talent was truly inspirational and showed me that you can become this skilled regardless of your background.

I studied BA (Hons) Illustration, and then MA Illustration, at the University of Plymouth. Choosing to do this was the best decision of my life. Going to University wasn’t naturally in my life’s trajectory, nobody in my family had been and it didn’t feel like something that “people like me” could achieve. Eventually, it was this that fired up a determination in me to prove that I can do it. It’s true, in my opinion, that you don’t need a degree to pursue a career in art, but for me it wasn’t really about the degree, but about getting into the big wide world and changing the trajectory of my life. The contrast between “people like me can’t do that” to working my a** off and achieving it is astounding.

When I see some of my art go viral, first, I think “why on earth has that gone viral?”. Just kidding... kind of. It never fails to amaze me that millions of people across the globe can relate to the same thing. Think about it, all of the different cultures, upbringings, walks of life, all laughing at the same image. Doesn’t it just make you realise that we’re all human? The next layer of amazement is in the fact that millions of people are interested in a thought that I’ve had. The amount of times I had been told that I’m “gobby” and too opinionated made me feel that I should quieten my voice for anybody to be interested in me. And now, here I am, seeing that this was never true, and what a blessing it is for me to see this through my art.