I contain multitudes, like you

Read online (with audio).

I’ve made a new gallery show, and I’d like to invite you to it.


Digital painting of two people in a gallery: a woman, left, stands with hands on hips in white top and green trousers. Right, a man in a wide-brimmed dark hat, striped shirt and waistcoat sits on a chair holding a raven on his lap. Behind them, a row of small colourful pictures on a pale wall. Above the image, the words Contain Multitudes are handwritten in white on a magenta blob.


As you see, it’s called Contain Multitudes.

I nicked the title from Walt Whitman, who wrote “I am large, I contain multitudes”. But the pictures in this show aren’t of me. They’re portraits of other people – portraits I’ve made over the last two or three years, of individuals and couples and groups.

As the title suggests, I’m trying to foreground the idea that every one of us contains a mix of moods and identities.

And relationships. I learned from my training in improvisational theatre that we really only exist in relation to the people and things around us. Every modifier we might use to describe ourselves or others (“rich”, “funny”, “dangerous”) always implies the existence of someone else.

It wasn’t easy to see that when I was depressed, and (painfully) self-absorbed.

Contain Multitudes gives me a chance to show what I see when I look outwards, at others. It’s about seeing and being seen.


The show takes place at Burgh House, Hampstead, from 18 to 23 August. Free entry. Please come if you can.


From now until the show opens, I’ll be writing every day – about the sitters, the decisions, what’s going on the walls, and what I’m learning as I put it all together. If you’d like to follow along, jp at this domain name to let me know.

I don’t expect you to read every one. Following along is free.

And if any of this resonates with someone you know, I’d love it if you passed it on.


Circular blurry photo of John-Paul Flintoff, looking right. Warm yellow stripes across top and bottom, and handwritten "Yours Truly" in electric blue, with arrows pointing to sketched self-portraits on wall and on T-shirt

JPF