I’ve drawn for as long as I can remember. Long before I trained as a singer, long before I understood what creativity even was, I found so much joy in colouring pencils and a blank page. Drawing has always been a way for me to slow down, notice things, and make sense of the world.
Picture books fascinated me as a child. I was lucky - my parents cottoned on to that quickly and surrounded me with them. The first illustration I can remember seeing was of an orchestra, and I laughed for days because the trombone player was blowing so hard his false teeth were flying out. Quentin Blake, Roald Dahl’s Revolting Rhymes, and then Spike Milligan - their humour and illustrations lit up my imagination.
The little characters I drew in the margins of books and on scraps of paper became part of me. It was inevitable I’d start sharing them - on homework, letters, birthday cards - and eventually giving them as gifts to anyone and everyone (whether they wanted them or not).
These days, while I’m performing and teaching, drawing is the place I always come back to. Hours disappear when I’m scribbling or painting. It’s probably where I feel most content - and teaches me so much about my creative process: how to explore, how to overcome challenges, and how the smallest seeds (or blobs of ink) can grow into something that makes you smile - and that you never quite believed you could do.
Drawing sits alongside my music, my teaching, and my writing as another way of understanding the world. All these creative threads weave together, helping me see life with more colour, more compassion, and more imagination.
I’m endlessly fascinated and in admiration of artists and illustrators - and performers who draw and paint too. I’m always in galleries wherever I go, and my collection of illustration books grows steadily… much to the amusement (and struggle) of anyone who’s ever helped me carry my suitcase.
I’ve never trained formally in art - I’m very much a self‑taught explorer. It’s the complete opposite of my musical life, which has been shaped by years of structured training, study, and education. That outlet and freedom is refreshing and a huge part of why I love it. It reminds me that creativity can simply be a joyful, spontaneous, honest response to each day.
I don’t think we can underestimate the power of Arts and creativity as an outlet for young people - or for any of us, at any age. I learned so much about this when my family members were facing illness. Creating together became a lifeline. My dad even wrote a whole story based on one of my illustrations - Dame Doodah - who is now very special to me. We were still making beautiful memories together in the hardest moments by encouraging one another to keep making things. I want to celebrate that spirit in everything I do.
Just like music and songs, art brings me so much joy.
I’m not the first to say it, and I won’t be the last - but creativity is hope.
I draw because, just like music, it’s an integral part of me.
I draw because it helps me pay attention - a line, a shadow, a messy blob of ink, a splash of watercolour makes me look more closely at the small, ordinary moments that could be so easy to miss.
I draw because it brings comfort and clarity - a few minutes with pen and ink settles me when life feels busy or overwhelming.
I draw because it connects me to memories I want to treasure - sketches hold stories, places, people, ideas.
I draw because it brings joy, humour and quirky characters - there is a contentment that comes from making something.
I draw because creativity belongs to all of us - it doesn’t need to be perfect or polished. It just needs to be honest and full of heart and I want to encourage others to do the same.
Thanks for being here. I hope it inspires you to notice the beauty in your own everyday moments - and perhaps enjoy creating too.