When you look at a steep mountain from below, it feels almost unattainable. So vertical and unforgiving that life up there seems unlikely. Kinnaur Kailash (or Kinner Kailash) is a majestic 6,050-meter-high mountain peak in Himachal Pradesh. But as you climb, the mountain changes. What first appeared sharp and inhospitable slowly begins to open up. The landscape plateaus unexpectedly. The air shifts. What looked impossible from a distance starts to feel inhabitable. And somewh

Over the last few years, my practice has become less about making and more about understanding. I’ve realised that in order to have an honest conversation with an audience, you have to first sit with yourself, long enough to trace where your emotions come from. Not the surface-level reactions, but their origin. For me, that search kept leading me back to a garden. I must have been very young. I remember holding a small watering can, moving between flowers and bees, completely

I’ve been trying to trace where this all began. Not the paintings but the need to make sense of things. One of my earliest memories is of my parents arguing about money. I must have been around five. I didn’t understand what was being said, only the weight of it. The kind that sits in your chest before you have the language to describe it. A little time later, or at least that’s how it feels in memory, we were leaving England. Our home was being sold. I remember a woman comin

It was only after graduating from university that I realised the question shouldn’t have been 'What would you like to do?' but...