My Home: Maggi hambling, artist

The artist Maggi Hambling's home reflects her passion for lush, tropical plants and her gigantic collection of elephants

The painter, sculptor and printmaker Maggi Hambling lives and works in South London

In 1969, I guess I must have been one of the first squatters in London; the term hadn't really been invented back then. I was a student at the Slade School of Fine Art and I was living in the basement of this very grand house in Gloucester Place. It was actually my friend's pottery studio, but I thought it seemed like a golden opportunity to live in a beautiful building in a great location - it was minutes from Baker Street.

I managed to stay there unnoticed for the first term.

Then one day the architects who had a practice upstairs left me a very polite note saying, "We are moving out, so perhaps you should do the same." It was very English of them.

My next home was a very dark flat in Battersea. When my father came to visit me, he said I was living like a mole in a hole, and he was right. My salvation came when I inherited some money from my friend, the painter Cedric Morris, in 1983.

I bought this place and when I moved in, it was like moving into the light, it was wonderful. I love living here and I have a real routine. Every morning I still drive to Battersea Park, and wander along next to the Thames and look at the water going out to sea. I find water very inspirational.

Creating the home I have now has been a very gradual process. I managed to acquire some more space: the house and garage next door went on sale and I immediately bought them. Then, the next big turning point was in 1987 when I had a show at the Serpentine - the money from that enabled me to get the rest of the house done.

My living space is downstairs, and my bedroom and kitchen overlook the garden, which I love. I'm very keen on deep green, almost black plants, as well as grasses and bamboo, and so I've tried to create a space that is very lush and tropical. My studio is upstairs. It is huge and has great light and lots of room to paint in.

One of the first things I did was to paint all the radiators and windows frames silver. It's that whole Sixties thing about being true to materials: radiators are made of metal and so they should be silver.

At the time, I was very influenced by Andy Warhol and the Factory movement. I also rubbed liming wax into the wooden walls. Liming wax is an oil which is used to treat the wood in picture frames, so I guess the idea was to frame each room and its furniture.

I have wooden floorboards throughout, which I painted black and have covered in animal skins and rugs. I only have one of my own paintings up - it is a painting of [a] Jester that I did when I was 14. I don't understand how some artists can have their work all around them. I'm surrounded by the bloody stuff all day - and the last thing I want to do is come downstairs from my studio and spend my evenings looking at it.

Instead, I have lots of beautiful paintings by the likes of Cedric Morris, Roger Hilton and Arthur Lett-Haines, who was really my mentor. His water-colour of Brighton station in the Thirties is amazing: each person in it is a portrait of someone real.

I have a black chair in my bedroom that used to belong to Cedric. When he was alive I tried to paint his portrait, but it didn't work out. Then a year after his death in 1982, very early one morning, I saw his ghost sitting in the chair laughing. It was soon after that that I finally painted his portrait.

I'm very interested in death, and motivated by it. Death is the reason I am always struggling to create a better painting. A great work of art creates a juxtaposition: it makes you feel alive, but simultaneously very aware of death. I get that feeling when I look at work by all the great painters - Rothko, Titian, Van Gogh....

My house is filled with things I love, from a wooden monkey from a trip to Mexico to an ancient Han dynasty figure to a tiny miniature piano that I found at an antiques fair; they're all part of life's rich pageant.

My real weakness, though, is elephants. I have been collecting them for years.

I love their size and power and gentleness. My obsession started at the age of eight when I was taken to Harrods pets department. My parents had told me that you could get anything you wanted from there. I asked the assistant if I could see a baby elephant, only to be told rather firmly that it was out of the question.

Since then I have amassed hundreds of elephants: I've now had to ask people to stop giving them to me, otherwise I wouldn't have inch of space left on any surface.

My most amazing item is an elephant chair, which is made from wood - although it does look very lifelike.

People always seem to think I shot it and dragged it back from Africa. It's actually from Peter Jones.

Unfortunately, though, my dog has eaten one of the tusks. I could never throw it out, though. Every day I wake up and resolve to try to be a minimalist. But realistically, it's never going to happen. I'm one of life's true hoarders.

Maggi Hambling: 'Portraits of People and the Sea' runs from 25 January to 25 February at Marlborough Fine Art, 6 Albemarle Street, London W1S 4BY

'Maggi Hambling: The Works and Conversations with Andrew Lambirth', is published today by Unicorn Press