How do your ideas manifest?

All of this – the murals, the paintings, the drawings – is really one whole body of work that leads on from one piece to another. It all began with this book I read called Echoes of Eden, which talks about this idea of paradise and how it pops up in a lot of cultures. This idea of heaven. All of my work has kind of flowed from that. It’s about the future.

In terms of materials and process, is it difficult or straight-forward producing work that exists outside?

I generally use household paint that is weather proof. But interestingly, one of the first walls I did in Miami, I used gold spray paint and the text read ‘I remember paradise’. The gold paint weathered, but it was nice because I was trying to comment on this sense of loss. I remember once I saw this advert made from litmus paper. It was blue and slowly turned red to show the acidy of the rain. I’m really interested in the layers of meaning in material. That’s why a collaboration I did with womenswear designer Phillipa Long was interesting. It was really exciting for me because of the nature of fabric. It’s more delicate than a flat wall. I always want to be pushing what I am doing and stretching myself.

“Everything starts from writing. Even when it’s a commercial commission, it always starts with me trying to say something.”

When did you first become interested in graphic design?

I studied graphic design, but ended up becoming an artist. I guess I felt limited by just making work for people. The way I was taught was very conceptual. My ideas didn’t need to be in a printed format so I ended up making these really massive paintings and that became the direction I eventually went in. I also started out painting signs in Borough Market. It was a hard job! It was a very masculine environment, but it paid better than other jobs I was doing at the time. Initially, the idea of being an artist never made sense to me. When I was young, I would do drawings for other kids in my school and people would say, ‘you should be an artist when you grow up’ but I’d say, ‘artists don’t make a lot of money’. This is when I was 9-years old! [Laughs]. Money was always an important thing in my family. I always wanted to be an accountant to make money but in secondary school, everything changed. I had an epiphany and I decided I wanted to do what I loved and become an artist but via graphic design because graphic design offered a tangible way of making money. I couldn’t have just gone to art school. I wouldn’t have known what to do! My parents aren’t artists but graphic design was my route into art. Also, that understanding of visual communication is useful to what I do. Words are really important to me.

Your use of striking colours and the kinds of words that you incorporate such as ‘power’ and ‘paradise’ and ‘higher’ your work feels utopian and almost spiritual…

The bible is really key for me. I read the bible regularly. That’s my food. So there’s definitely a spiritual element in there.

“Sometimes I think “Wow, if  only I had grown up 10 years later” — but then, I wouldn’t be making this work.”

How does your heritage feed into your practice?

My work started as a way for me to work out who I was. One of the first pieces I did in my foundation course was about experiences I had of people shouting things out of vans at me. Making jungle noises. Not everyday, but maybe once a month. So my work came out of those bad situations and trying to make sense of who I was and also wanting to express something of strength, that’s really key. Wanting to paint something that was beautiful and strong and represented me. That was 10 years ago and things change and your work evolves and I feel like a different person now. I don’t have people shouting at me any more, but that’s how the work started. It was for me to question who I was and how was I represented. Back then, there wasn’t anyone who looked like me. There were no positives about the way that I looked. But now, it’s a different world. Sometimes I think “Wow, if only I had grown up 10 years later” — but then, I wouldn’t be making this work.

So would you say, out of those uneasy experiences, came a sense of purpose? 

Back in the day in the early days of the natural hair movement, in the early 2000’s, I was trying to find someone like me. I’d go to all of these websites for strength. I guess that was about me trying to work out who I was. That’s where this idea of Afrofuturism comes in to my work. I can relate to it. A future where black people are strong and have created their own civilisation. I can relate to that. Also, this idea of the underdog and giving them a voice is really important to me, because in the past, I felt like I didn’t have a voice. But blackness itself is fragile. That’s the conclusion I’ve come to. As much as I appreciate it and love it, I can’t build my life on it. There’s probably of lot of people who disagree with me, but I can’t build my foundations on that. As much as it’s a part of who I am. It can’t save me. It’s not going to fill the holes that I’ve got.

What has been your experience as a black woman working in the arts?

I’ve had varied experiences. As a minority, you can’t help but feel that if the ‘gatekeepers’ looked like you, things might be easier, you’d be better understood, you might even just feel a little more relaxed. However, I actually feel quite empowered coming from a different place. I have a different story and there’s a certain freedom in that. The other thing is that, right now, it’s really ‘trendy’ to be a black artist, which I don’t like, but think I have got opportunities from.

Tokenism isn’t sustainable! There needs be genuine effort to support these groups and not just involve them because they’re ‘cool’ 

Yes. Also, I don’t want all of my work to be about blackness either.

I understand that sentiment. It’s something lot of black artists and writers have expressed. That they mostly get work or attention when they’re taking heavily about race. Of course, race may be an undercurrent in someone’s practice, but there has to be space to explore other subjects…

Yes. There are pros and cons but I’m always a bit negative about what is seen as “fashionable”.

“I really want to take my son to Africa. I really want him to have part of his childhood there like I did. My happiest memories were there.”

What is it like living and working in East London?

My studio is above Ridley Road Market. It reminds me of my childhood. I spent a lot of time in East Africa. It has a bit of that vibe to it. It has a nice community feeling. I live on a block round the corner from my studio, where we all know each other, my son is friends with all the kids on the block, and in the summer we have BBQs on the grass outside. I feel very blessed. But the area’s definitely been gentrified. Which isn’t a new thing, and has good and bad aspects.

There a lot of local artists here too, right?

Actually, a lot of my artist friends have moved out. But I like the fact that it feels creative and connected. I read that gentrification is an inevitable part of cities. It’s just what cities do. I was in Stoke Newington the other day and I felt like a minority there for the first time. I grew up in Bromley and I was a minority there and I don’t want my son to grow up like that.

Where else could you see your family living?

I really want to take my son to Africa. I really want him to have part of his childhood there like I did. My happiest memories were there. But because of my husband’s work, I don’t know if we can. He’s a barber. My dream is for him to open up a shop in Kampala and live there for a bit. That’s what I would like but I do still love London.

I feel like London has a sense of longevity. You could be here for decades and still be engaged, but I guess it depends on how long it has that sense of authenticity which does feel like is beginning to diminish…

It is. Everything is becoming really slick and clean.

Do you consider your work to be “positive”?

It’s much deeper than just positive thinking. I guess that’s where the spiritual element comes in. In the last show that I did ‘The Future is Gold’ at KK Outlet,  around the election, I was talking about this idea of a future government that surpasses all of the previous governments. My work is rooted in the messianic ideology, which is this idea that there is a saviour. It’s a lot deeper than just saying, things are good or are going to get better

When are you at your most peaceful?

In terms of my work, when I start, there’s often a process of praying. Meditating is very important at the beginning stage. I’ve started knitting and I’m really enjoying it. I’m making patches for a blanket for my son. It fits into my lifestyle now. Looking after my son, being in the studio, I can put it down and pick it up. I’ve also started swing dancing with my husband. It’s weird because the people who were dancing it back in the day, are probably not alive anymore. They were 20 in the forties and that would make them 90 to 100!

“My work is rooted in the messianic ideology, which is this idea that there is a saviour. It’s a lot deeper than just saying, things are good or are going to get better.”

Considering that a lot of your work exists in public spaces, I wanted to ask you your thoughts on the importance of murals in communities of colour?

There’s such a history to it. There’s a book called Community Murals: The People’s Art. It looks at African American community murals in the 60s and 70s. They would often have lack heroes that they would paint to inspire the community. I love that.

I think it’s really cool that you often find some of the most beautiful murals in areas considered “run down”…

Also, they educate people and teach them something. You might not see someone on a billboard that looks like you, but imagine you have a mural depicting someone who looks like you. Showing you the great things they have done.

What insight can you offer anyone who wants rise to your level professionally speaking?

I guess work out what you want to say. Find your niche. I think that’s helpful. To work out what it is that is special about you and then target the people that would be of interest to you. I think internships are useful. I didn’t do any funnily enough and I do regret that. Even now, I look back and think that would have been nice to get insight into different worlds. I think that’s actually a really good thing. If you can afford it. Also, Imposter syndrome – everyone feels like they are a rookie. Everyone feels like they don’t know what they’re doing. I still feel like that. I asked my sister about imposter syndrome the other day. She’s a development economist at the world bank and lives in DC and she said feels it too. That encouraged me. It made me feel like, if she’s still scared, then it’s OK for me to be scared too.

Why do you think some successful women feel like imposters?

I think people would say it’s the way women are raised. That we are all conditioned to question ourselves. Maybe that is what it is. I don’t know. If I was a man, would I feel like this? Maybe it’s just that men don’t tell people that they feel that way. They don’t say anything. Women feel as though they are allowed to say that they feel vulnerable and maybe men feel like they can’t.

I think reflective criticism is important but you also have to know when you’re doing a good job…

I guess it’s about not feeling like your alone. Especially as a creative. Everyone to a certain point is working a part time job that they’re not telling you about. They’re not telling you about their job in a cafe. Everyone struggles creatively. So you’re not alone and if it’s not for you — don’t be afraid to go and get a day job.

“Just say yes and work out how to do it later”

Yes! Be comfortable with whatever path your on and as long as it’s your choice and you haven’t been pigeonholed or denied access…

Yes. It’s also really important to take every opportunity you get. Even the scary ones.

If an opportunity comes around and you don’t feel like you are ready for it, do you think it’s a good idea to just take the plunge?

Yes. That is what I think. Just say yes and work out how to do it later. I try to do that. There are things that I never should have done, and while I was doing them, I wished I had said no. But once I had finished, I was glad I said yes because they all got me to the next level.