Nature abounds with pattern. On my daily walks past gardens, through bush and wetlands, I can’t help but be awed by the myriad shapes, colours and designs, from the intricacies of one little leaf to the repeated shapes in a line of wetland grasses swaying in the breeze. Or the sunlight shining in patterns through branches and leaves.

Is it all just one big maths lesson?

In the words of Euclid: "The laws of nature are but the mathematical thoughts of God"

Sequences and repetition, symmetries and spirals, tessellations and fractals? Fibonacci sequence and the golden ratio?

I can’t dispute the calculations and explanations of the experts. But I’m an artist. I see the patterns, but I can’t respond with equations. I respond to nature’s cleverness with my emotions, with my way of seeing. I see juxtapositions of light on dark, of large and small, of repeated and contradictory shapes. I see nature’s little stories. And that’s what comes out in my paintings.