On one’s birthday…


it’s only right there should be a wee bit of reflection.  This time around I reckon its now well over four decades since I decided I wanted to be a painter.  That happened around the age of fourteen (though I’d been enjoying art more than anything else since junior school) when I won prizes in a local competition, met the inestimable Peter Thursby who guided and encouraged me (and many others) through secondary art education and saved up several months of pocket money to buy my first monograph (on Alan Davie).  By eighteen I was well into production of oil paintings like that featured here – an odd amalgam of Sam Francis meets Rothko by way of Patrick Heron…well at least my tastes were eclectic!

By twenty two I knew it all…and now at 64 I wonder how I know so little…what the hell went wrong?!

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