Bio
At the moment, I am editing a book I wrote with my artist father, the wood engraver Simon Brett, who died just before New Year. The book is part-memoir, part-transcript of conversations we had in his studio, where he had made work since 1974.

The memoir is about my search for meaning after the sudden death of my grandmother in childhood sparked a sub-plot of struggle in my life, how this eventually led to setting-up a charity in London working with refugees and the Grenfell community, the stage 4 cancer diagnosis that would stop my fertility, the suicide of my sister-like cousin, the birth of my daughter through surrogacy, and what it means to live (and rebuild) life based on values, faith and hope.

The conversations I had with Dad in his peaceful studio were about his life, art, loss and making meaning. He grew-up in St Bartholomew’s Hospital in the City of London, when most of the surrounding area was bomb site. While his artistic talent was obvious from the outset, he worked hard at it and in his belief of the importance of the visual.

Raised by artist parents, I grew-up immersed in art but I always questioned the point of it as a focus, especially in contrast with poverty, social injustice and war.

In 2019, my life drew closer to Dad’s when I followed in his footsteps to New Mexico to search for a lost painting he had made in the 1960s when he lived there as a young artist, painting and making wood engravings. This quest catalysed the book.

Now Dad has died, after living with Parkinsons for 16 years, which threatened but did not overcome his artistic ability, the time we spent together feels all the more precious. Over the course of our conversations, truths were revealed and our relationship changed.

I hope my book may be of interest to anyone who loves art or who is having a hard time and that some of the solace I found in the studio will be passed on to the reader.