Fiona Rae puts ideas of abstraction to the test and wins every time. Her work taught me that intuitive painting doesn't mean uncontrolled painting; it means being so in tune with your process that every mark, however spontaneous it appears, is exactly right.

I was taught by Ian during my Master's degree—the sweetest, most brilliant painter. His work explores landscapes and our relationship with them, how we see space and the land around us. Ian was a landscape artist in the 80s, and his abstract work grew from that deep connection to place.

Tàpies showed me that paint doesn't have to be just paint. By introducing materials like marble dust and sand, he created surfaces that felt ancient, weathered, tactile—surfaces that carried their own history.

Innes showed me that you don't need grand gestures to create powerful work; sometimes restraint speaks loudest. His work is about what's left behind as much as what's put down—a lesson that's shaped how I think about my own layering process.

Peter Lanyon was the first contemporary painter to show me emotion and experience within the gestures of marks—marks he made from his flying trips over the Cornish landscape.

My relationship with Turner began before I could fully understand what I was seeing. When I was about six, my parents had placemats with Turner paintings on them. I chose this one for my room—Snow Storm: Steam-Boat off a Harbour's Mouth. I can remember thinking: this is the best thing I've ever seen in my life, better than television!