David Hockney is something of a legend in my eyes — a passionate observer of the beauty in the world, whose prolific career I find endlessly inspiring. On a recent visit to the Tate Britain in London, I treated myself to a small book of his thoughts on art and the world. I was struck by his astute observations and eloquence, as much as by the richness and colour of his paintings. I am not a big reader, but I could not put it down on the train ride home, and it has since become a joy to dip into.

A few days later, while sharing coffee with a friend, the sun caught my yellow coffee pot and illuminated the book beside it. In that moment I could see the painting that needed to be made.

As I painted the scene, I realised I wanted the book to become the focal point. When the coffee cup obscured his name on the cover, it gave me licence to write it playfully into the margin instead. Throughout the painting I’ve included small nods to Hockney — references to some of his well-known works, his distinctive glasses, and of course his name and the book itself.

And so there could really be no other title for this piece than When David Hockney Came to Coffee.

It is acrylic on deep-edged canvas and measures 60 x 60cm.