When I first began using myself as a model for my work, it was out of desperation. I didn't know anyone else who would put up with the tedium of posing undressed for long hours in my grubby Brisbane studio as I sketched and photographed them. A decade later, I'd evolved from model to muse. Bored with the cartoon-like imagery of my early enamel work, I wanted my work to be more conceptual, smarter. I turned my back on crisp lines and expanses of bright, shiney colour and experimented with other media. It was if I had to shatter the brittle surfaces of my old art to get into my head.In 2006, I exhibited 15 works in mixed media on paper in a show I titled Venus In Hell. At the time, I wrote of being inspired by "an intense curiosity about Haitian voodoo and Central American santeria", especially the way "these religions’ syncretic rituals based on African tribal rites and Catholicism mined a deep seam of inner personal conflict..." But that wasn't the real story. I felt an urgent need to exorcise the roiling confusion that, even then, had a hard grip on my psyche.I'm not sure my work has been altogether coherent since then. The more I've become pre-occupied with "expressing my self", the more I've experimented. I've continued painting colourful Pop-inflected imagery in enamel – and arguing for its serial 'productisation' and machine-like glossiness as the works themselves have grown larger – but I've also produced much smaller and very different works in mixed media on paper, pen and ink, and pure watercolours, as well as photographs, theatrical installations, videos and reams of text, not all of it – maybe very little of it – good enough to be seen in public (not that I've let that stop me showing it).And there's the rub. Since my mental and physical breakdown at the end of 2009, I'm not so taken with my self as my subject. Put it down to 10 weeks in a psychiatric clinic, during which I had nothing else to do but contemplate my mental disarray, but anything that feels too much like introspection repels me now. For the first time, I want to extract my self from my art – if not my art from myself – and let it grow outside the hothouse of my labile emotions. Which is to say, I'd like my art to be about something – or someone – else for a change.