I was after all, the kid who was never bored…often to be found at my desk or the dining table making candles, cards, jewellery, pictures, cakes…or whatever I was into that week. Needless to say I was not the child with the most friends, though I wasn’t entirely friendless.
I discovered partying and there was a noticeable decline in my creative offerings…
I went to Art College but couldn’t be arsed with explaining every creative action in terms of its reference and relevance. That is to say when I actually attended as I seem to remember spending most of it working/drinking in the pub.
There was the time when I actually made a meagre living selling crappy prints and portraits on ebay, having found myself almost jobless and living in a bedsit in Leicester. A highlight of that era was the week when I survived on discount (stale) bread and homemade dhal, rushing to complete yet another watercolour of some ugly cat I’d been given a shit picture of.
Somehow I managed to pick myself up, avoid starvation and cultivate a sort of normal and happy life for myself. And here I am…with a relinquished lust for creating things with my own fair hands, be it edible or ornamental, fashionable or practical. The journey starts (again) here.