Where I am coming from

I always find it difficult to put into words why I paint the way I do, I came across these notes that I'd written. This made more sense to me than a lot of finished peices of writting I have written:

From memory, glazes, distorted and manipulated. Memory of darkened, enclosed spaces, visually ambiguous. Welsh rustic, memory of living, cold wind, sanctuary. Not of this landscape but an expression of this landscape, these moors, and sometimes emotional struggles. Using geometry, like burying, excavation. About warmth, weather, shelter, earth. Mixed up, shifted, into blocks, taking sections of colour and moving them around. The textures of nature and the man-made juxtaposed, combined, churned up, distorted like burning embers in a cave, an abandoned barn or a section of mist..