After a couple of days at home to recover from the noxious effects of the enamel, I was back in the city studio early this morning to try to finish more works by Monday. It was a slow, frustrating grind but by late afternoon, I was beginning to break the back of it. To escape the end-of-day feeling of being trapped in the tedium of these large works, I have been experimenting with some ideas I have for sculptural works inspired by Caribbean and South-East Asian folk art and superstitions. My small home studio is littered with clay, fabrics, beading, scraps of painted paper and organic materials which I pick through and assemble in different ways – just as I pick through the fragments of images lurking in the recesses of my subconscious – trying to get at what it is I really want to make. It's a slow but immersive and pleasurably tactile process, without a schedule or any expectations: art for me and no-one else.