Belinda Ireland’s studio is in the loft space of a small building in rural South Devon. Tucked neatly beneath a sky facing window, and wallpapered with elaborate little sketches and endless daubs of colour, it has the secluded, secretive feel of a childhood den.

It is very quiet here, and Belinda herself is a quiet and considered person whose work reveals the extraordinary depth of her memory, her imagination and her intellect. The conversation we share, as I examine her drawings and paintings, is one of the most interesting I have had. It teaches me not just about her work, but about traces of myself that I have forgotten, or maybe even lost.

Belinda’s work is inspired by the imaginary worlds she retreated to as a child, where longings and fears mixed with the stories, symbols and icons of popular culture. Sometimes she paints herself within the work, a participant in the drama and romance of a fantasy world.

Cowboy Dreaming, oil on board, by Belinda Ireland Cowboy Dreaming, oil on board, by Belinda Ireland (Image: Courtesy of Belinda Ireland)

Most touching is her painting Cowboy Dreaming, in which Belinda as a little girl sits cross legged by a campfire, beside her cowboy companion, as the firelight throws shadows beneath the stars. They do not speak. They do not have to. He is her protector. A strong, fast horse waits in the darkness to carry them away to new adventures.

‘I am dreaming of him,’ says Belinda, ‘and a life far removed from the mundane childhood I inhabit.’ Belinda uses glowing colours to enhance the dreamlike quality of her work, while her use of light is drawn from both 17th century painting and 20th century cinematography.

Her works evolve through the cutting out and assembling of images that reference her childhood experiences. Around the studio, these intriguing compilations are pinned beside the paintings they have inspired.

I see glimpses of my own childhood everywhere: long limbed figures against a bright sash window; white knee socks and plum coloured Mary Janes; the guarded body language of adolescent girls.

We discuss our childhoods, mine a little later than hers, but both of us children of the late 20th century, and we delight in the endless parallels, the now politically incorrect TV programmes and the classic pre-woke toys. I am amazed at the depth and detail of her memory, and I wonder if I am guilty of failing to treasure, or to address my own childhood experiences.

These artworks take me far into the past, and remind me that my past is a place I should visit more often.

belindairelandart.co.uk