Sometimes a specific idea for a painting will come to me out of the blue. At other times, I sit down to draw, and end up with many scribbles and doodles. Eventually, things fall into place, and a head or the curve of a figure will start to interest me.

I then begin to think more consciously of that image as a painting, and organize the composition - placement of figures, buildings, etc. - for the canvas.

If the image is based on a memory from childhood, I sometimes use family snapshots (how many windows were there on the front of the cottage?) Or refer to old Eaton=s catalogues (what did that radio we had in 1958 really look like?).

I do like to paint simple, unpretentious things. Small houses, kitchens with breakfast nooks, garages and backyards, with people going about their daily activities. Things that I know and remember. The familiar scenes may seem mundane on the surface, but I think they tell a lot about our lives.

The front and backyards of typical Canadian neighborhoods - with their hedges, fences, sidewalks and walls - create natural borders and frames to divide up the canvaas and set off the figures. For interiors, the windows and doors work the same way.

Not all of my paintings are situated in the secure old neighborhood of my childhood. Others have that more urban and insecure quality - the high-rises, elevators, and boardrooms - of the big city.

While the backgrounds remain fairly realistic, although simplified, my figures are stylized - sometimes curved, sometimes angular, but always exaggerated in varying degrees to express movement and emotions.

As for my influences, there are several artists I have always admired, for different reasons. Stanley Spencer, the British artist, for his personal and eccentric vision of his world, the village of Cookham. Francis Bacon for the lush use of oil paint and his reinvention of the figure. And Jan Vermeer and Canadian artist Jack Chambers for their subtle and magical use of light.

Brian Jones, Toronto, 1990