Before I paint each London Art Brick, there’s a quiet beauty in its raw, untouched form. The moment I lay my eyes on the stack of bricks at my local yard, I’m reminded of their unique story—the story they tell through their time-worn surfaces, imperfections, and varying hues. These bricks, each with their own distinct history, are the foundation of the art that follows. Before they become vibrant pop art creations, they are something altogether different—something raw, gritty, and filled with character.
Each time I make the journey to the brick yard, I hand-select the bricks, carefully inspecting them for imperfections. I look for cracks, fading, chips—qualities that others might see as flaws, but that I find intriguing. It’s the difference between each brick that excites me; no two are alike. Some bricks are pale and smooth, their surfaces seemingly untouched by time, while others are faded, with edges worn down by years of exposure to the elements. These variations are the result of the bricks’ time spent outdoors, baking in the sun and weathering the seasons. The different shades of pale that appear in the stack are a direct reflection of this exposure, and I’m drawn to the subtle beauty in these variations.
As I load each brick into the boot of my car, I handle them with care, despite the inevitable mess. The raw dust of the heather brick crumbles into my hands and onto the back of the car. It’s a bit of a messy process, but it’s something I love—the tactile nature of these bricks, their texture, and the way they change as they move from the yard to my studio. They aren’t pristine, and I don’t want them to be. There’s something real and honest about their imperfections, and this is what I seek to preserve in my art.
When I get to the studio, I carry each brick one by one, carefully placing them in the sunlight to dry out. This time spent with the bricks, in their raw form, is a part of the artwork itself. It’s where I connect with the materials, appreciating their organic nature and embracing the messiness that comes with them. The brick dust settles onto the table, and I let it linger, as it is, part of the process—the gritty reality of creating something beautiful from the ordinary.
And then, when the bricks are ready, I begin the transformation. The raw, dusty form gives way to bold, colorful pop art creations that tell new stories. But I never forget that in their original state, the bricks are art in themselves. They carry history, texture, and a certain raw elegance that’s impossible to ignore.
Each step in the process, from selecting the bricks to handling their imperfections, is integral to the artwork I create. The mess, the dust, the tactile connection with the raw material—this is the essence of the art before the paint ever touches the surface. And it’s this love for the raw form that allows me to create something entirely new and exciting, as each brick becomes its own unique piece of art.