Immaculate in a grey suit, Martin Creed strides towards me in the car park at Durslade Farm, home of Hauser & Wirth’s Somerset gallery. He could be a businessman out on his lunch break on a spring day. Then I notice the spatters and whiplashes of paint all over his clothes, the splodges of colour on his plastic sandals. His hair looks a bit less of an Afro frizz than when I last saw him; now it is in a bun. His moustache makes me think he’s been holed up with a bunch of outlaws. It is an arresting look that Creed, who is 48, carries off with panache.