42 Follow Me

Follow Me is the largest painting I have made to date. A triptych, each panel measuring 125 cm high by 95 cm wide, it demanded more space, more patience, and more belief than any work before it. Painted in a small studio, the practical challenge was immediate. I could just manage to place the three panels side by side, inch-perfect, with barely enough room to step back. The painting became something I had to physically navigate, edging sideways, ducking under corners, constantly aware of scale, both real and imagined.

At the centre stands Godzilla, a towering figure transplanted from cinema myth into the familiar calm of a suburban street. He is both absurd and magnificent, his presence overwhelming the tidy houses, clipped hedges and evening sky. This is not a city in flames, but a neighbourhood paused, holding its breath. The toy soldiers advance with purpose, their small green bodies echoing those seen in “We Come in Peace”. The same Deetail Britains figures reappear here, frozen mid-stride, rifles raised, mortar crew assembled, jeep rolling forward. They are heroic, earnest, and utterly outmatched.

The narrative unfolds across the three panels like a slow pan of a camera. On the left, the tank and advancing soldiers emerge beneath a darkened sky, shadows pooling under trees. In the centre, Godzilla dominates, framed by a house that feels almost defenceless, its domestic warmth no match for the creature looming above it. On the right, the tail curves out of frame, leading the eye forward, where more soldiers advance, determined to complete a task that logic tells us is impossible.

The title, Follow Me, is taken from a single figure near the jeep. One toy soldier points directly at Godzilla, but his gaze breaks the fourth wall. He looks out of the painting, at us. It is an invitation and a challenge. Are we being asked to follow him into battle, or to follow the idea itself? This small gesture shifts the entire work. The painting is no longer sealed within its own story; it reaches outward, implicating the viewer in the unfolding scene.

In a twist of fate that could never be planned, the painting bears a private history. While working on the triptych, Alice, our new puppy, managed to reach the studio. In a moment of silence, she chewed the left hand off Godzilla, reducing it to tiny pieces beyond repair. The one-handed Godzilla became part of the work’s mythology. A reminder that control is always partial, and chance is an active collaborator.

Follow Me is about scale, courage, and persistence. It is about small figures standing firm in the face of something vast and unknowable. It is also about the act of making itself, negotiating space, embracing accidents, and following an idea even when it feels too big for the room you are standing in.

Oil on fine portrait linen: Triptych 3 panels 125 x 95 cm; 49.21 x 37.4 in (125 x 285cm 49.21 x 112.2 in) (Sold)