What inspires me to draw are those brisk days when the wind nips at your cheeks and whispers in your ear. Those niggling feelings that there- just out of sight- is something that rustles the leaves and shifts the grass as it hides from modern eyes. The vast endlessness of a horizon line. The potential of the fantastical. The reminiscence of a history. The optimism of a story. The pessimism of a story. The appreciation of a story. The ability to tell a story.