I write from my typewriter every Friday on Substack, sharing 3 recommendations of art that you should be paying attention to
I invite a guest to share their 3 picks every Tuesday too
I share photos and things on Instagram
If you want to know more about me, I wrote an interview with myself for IMI that you can read here
BILLION (bilien).
Friday 6th February 2026
BILLION is an 8-minute short film shot in Cornwall that explores the art of noticing beauty in mundanity, and finding fulfillment in seeing the world through young eyes. You can see it here.
It’s a strange thing to make art.
You can set out with a clear(ish) direction in mind, but sometimes the force that guides you (?) has a different idea.
The more you stay attuned to what the piece will ultimately be, and what it wants to become, the more mouldable and adaptable you have to be.
I had my own vision when I set out for what this video would be. It was going to be a video about noticing the small things. Specifically: pebbles. Noticing them everywhere and admiring them for their simple, natural beauty. I had a (pretty bad) script written and recorded as a voiceover (I recorded it at the bottom of my garden on my airpods, envelloped in birdsong).
When it came time to soundtrack the film I was searching through a playlist I’ve created of songs that would make for great soundtracks I re-stumbled across Kitty. Though it’s Irish, it felt rooted in heritage and history. In that same kind of Cornish way. And it fit perfectly, so I began to cut the film around it.
I was struggling to fit my voiceover into the pauses in the song’s lyrics, when it quickly became obvious that my own stuttering words were taking away from the beauty and the space that John’s lyrics inhabit. So I scrapped my voiceover—and my plans for the film altogether, and let it become something other. Something far more abstract and open for interpretation. But I think something ultimately more interesting, and beautiful as a piece of art.
As a proud Cornishman, one thing that has always bugged me is when people try and showcase this beautiful county as if it is bathed in year-long-sunshine. What a load of rubbish. All that kind of imagery does is further push Cornwall as this ‘idylic holiday destination’--rather than existing as its own place with its own identity and authenticity.
My Cornwall is one that is often wet and windy--and there is innate beauty in that.
When I set out to shoot BILLION I actually chose a day where the weather forecast was looking pretty wild. It was bitingly cold, and snowing in the morning. I was umming and ahhing about going out to shoot.
I said ‘screw it’ and went for it — because it hardly ever snows here. And you have to make the most of these things. It was bitterly cold. My hands went completely numb and I got absolutely soaked to the bone. I warmed myself by the fire in a coffee shop in the same town, which was lovely. I chatted with the owner as I sipped my coffee and ate some orange cake.
The second shoot day was with Afie, my boy. Our parents weren’t able to help look after him that day, so I took the day off work and had him to myself the whole day. We went out to the same town, just days after I’d been previously on my own. Similarly, it was soaking wet. No snow this time though. We spent a lot of time watching the workmen with their diggers, cranes and hammers. Afie was absolutely transfixed. He was telling me about the building work they’re doing and how they’ go bang bang’ with their hammers.
We headed down to the beach but didn’t stay long, as it was wet and windy down there. We sheltered a couple of times in the tunnel. That’s when I got the shot of the lock (it felt important, somehow).
Then we headed back up to that same cafe (not as relaxing a time, when you’re trying to entertain a 2-year-old) before heading to the park. We played football in the park for about 30 minutes before heading home for nap time. It was a lovely day. And I think in capturing elements of it you can sense the authenticity of the scene - taking a toddler out, despite the weather, and seeing the world through their eyes.
The Cornish word for a single pebble is bilien (feminine noun, plural bili). It is used to describe a small, smooth, water-worn stone.
Singular: Bilien (a pebble)
Plural: Bili (pebbles/shingle)
I started a kind of impromptu pebble collection in 2020. COVID was spreading and a lockdown was looming. The day before we were plunged into the confines of our homes, Molly and I went out to a nearby beach - to make the most of some time outdoors before they were shut and locked. On this trip I was sat reading and I picked up a small pebble and started fiddling with it in my hand. I ended up taking it home and fidgeting with it often.
As anxiety began to grip me I found relief in keeping my hands busy, and even more so—using something connected to the outdoors, that made me feel connected with God, the one who created it—and me. I still have that pebble today (see below). Along with many more that I periodically swap out and play with. I always keep one in my pocket at all times. As a bit of an ancient fidget toy, but also as a beautiful thing to have and to hold.
The title also refers somewhat tangentily to Bon Iver’s 00000 Million, which includes the lines
What a river don’t know is to climb out and heed a line
To slow among roses or stay behind
(GENIUS)
‘A flowing river isn’t able to climb out of its bed and literally “heed the line” to “slow down and smell the roses.” When you’re moving full speed ahead, it’s hard to realize all the things you’re missing along the way.’
I’ve always loved the poetry of that line.
So much so that I got a rose tattoo’d on my wrist as a personal reminder to stop and notice the beautiful things in life that I’m missing by moving at too fast a speed.
My son has helped me to see the world differently. To slow among roses.
And that’s priceless.
or
worth a 0000000 Billion.
Creativity is a luxury.
Tuesday 4th February 2025
I never lack for creative ideas.
My commonplace book is full of them. Video ideas, art I would like to make, blog posts/essays to write.
The problem is, in our work-centric society, creativity is a luxury.
It’s sad to say that. But it is true.
I remember reflecting on this with the owner of a coffee shop a couple of years ago.
We were talking about Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way and her practice of the morning pages.
The lady said to me, that she felt it was a shame that creativity, for her, is indeed a luxury. Something she’s only able to do if she still has the energy after a long day of working in a bustling coffee shop serving up flat whites and pastries.
I find myself at a similar crossroads-like moment now. I’m staring down the barrell of re-entering the world of coffee-shop-based employment as a means to, well, exist. To live. To pay the bills.
I can longer wrestle against the tides of the ultimate creative struggle—and have to give in, and accept that I must spend my days working for someone else so that I can afford a place to live and to be able to feed and clothe my family.
It’s a bleak realisation, but not an uncommon one. And perhaps not even a bleak one, afterall. It’s about your outlook.
Austin Kleon had some nice words to say about just this in Steal Like an Artist;
I really resonate with those words. And as much as I wish I could just flitter away my days creating, painting, writing, filming—I just cannot seem to balance the scales and weigh that dream alongside paying the bills and doing a Tesco shop every week.
Amie Mcnee wrote this great piece on Substack about not wanting to work.
I, too, do not want to work.
But I also see the benefits it can have on your life and even on your art.
Afterall, everyone must find their own way. And that will look differently for each of us, particularly based on where we live in the world.
There are seasons for next-to-no-money, and there are season for work in abundance.
My current season? Contemplating re-entering the slighlty daunting world of employment for the benefits of financial security, at the potential sake of my complete happiness, and time committed to art.
But, thankfully, more time doesn’t neccessarily = better art.
Yesterday took just minutes for Paul McCartney to write apparently, and that was a pretty good song.
“According to NME, the melody for the 1965 song came to Paul McCartney in a dream and took less than a minute to write. “I have no idea how I wrote that. I just woke up one morning, and it was in my head. I didn’t believe it for about two weeks,” explained McCartney.” (listverse)
It’s funny, I was about to finish this and hit post, when the following video appeared on my YouTube homepage:
I love the honesty behind that video, and the simplicity of working a ‘regular’ job.
And the way it serves as an act of rebellion against the Instagram-filtered ‘reality’ that we’re currently oversatured by--constant comparison and an unrealistic, unattainable lifestyle of glorified self-employment.
Artists especially like to aspire to a life of exploration and play. But the reality of 95% of the population (I entirely guessed at those numbers) is to work in a job that we sometimes hate and wrestle with finding contentment in that.
Or dare I suggest we aim to find contentment or fulfillment in something else entirely...? And just get on with it?
--
What do you think? I’d love to hear from you.
Don’t get in your own way.
Monday 27th January 2025
These words by the Ghanian artist Okuntakinte really resonate with me.
It’s easy to put up barriers to artmaking. It’s difficult to get yourself into that place of freedom of expression that art requires of us.
Last week, after watching some of William Kentridge’s Self Portrait as a Coffee Pot I was inspired to make something.
I love paper. I built my newsletter around the idea of paper.
I got inspired by the way that Kentridge’s studio is littered with paper from old books which he covers in art, drawings, sketches, quotes.
I grabbed some scraps of newspaper that I had lying around, pulled out my chunky posca marker and got to work scribbling.
It was really freeing to get into that place where I could stop overthinking the ‘what’ and the ‘why’ of artmaking and just make. Create. Express.
Create create create. Whatever it is. And don’t get in your own way.