I started painting dead birds without any particular reason or thinking behind it. When I had four paintings I wondered why on earth I had done them.
Then the same week as the queen died, my mum went into hospital not far from Windsor and I would drive through to visit my mum and each day see the crowds become larger and larger. I thought that is what the paintings were about.
However, a couple of years later I came across the paintings again and thought once more, why did I do these? My connection to the week in Windsor seemed contrived. Then the next time I went into my studio, I saw lying in front of the door on the pavement, a dead bird. I picked it up. It was still warm. It was the exact same kind of bird as the one in my paintings.
I still don’t know why I painted these pictures, but there is surely a reason!