Over time,
memories of myself, people, places, incidents have become vividly clear or
hopelessly distorted,
stripped of detail or gloriously embellished, and I certainly don’t miss the ones that have been forgotten.
My career was a series of immovable deadlines too tightly bound to allow any time for creativity or even the spark needed
to nurture it. Technology, they thought, would enable me to be more productive and that I would welcome its uniformity;
it did and I didn’t. Instantly anyone with a keyboard was elevated to being innovative; creativity was being replaced with
production line of do it yourself artistic blandness.
I was stubbornly holding onto my pencil and paper like it was going out of fashion - and it was,
I drew a weak line of acceptance under my reluctance to change. Inevitably as my resistance grew my commitment
waned and my line became as smudged and as blurred as I needed it to be. Other people began drawing their own lines
to contain my attitude, lines that I invariably ignored or tripped up on.
There came a point when the asset of my ability was overshadowed by my talent as a liability. I’d been working tirelessly on
a personal project, my alcoholism. My dedication to that freelancing finally paid off, I had drunk myself into unemployabilty.
Alcohol, my long-time colleague, companion and comfort was a far more demanding boss; twenty four hour shifts,
back to back, week in, week out, no holidays and no benefits. Being drunk all day is so time consuming.
Not much of my day was spent actually doing it; I filled my time with thinking about it, how or where to get a drink.
Even if I arrived at a decision it took so long to muster the motivation to do anything about it, the only incentive was to not be without.
I remember occasionally considering drawing a fresh line, a line between me and the bottle but the moment was always too fleeting.
It took years of consideration before I picked up the stick to draw it with.
stripped of detail or gloriously embellished, and I certainly don’t miss the ones that have been forgotten.
My career was a series of immovable deadlines too tightly bound to allow any time for creativity or even the spark needed
to nurture it. Technology, they thought, would enable me to be more productive and that I would welcome its uniformity;
it did and I didn’t. Instantly anyone with a keyboard was elevated to being innovative; creativity was being replaced with
production line of do it yourself artistic blandness.
I was stubbornly holding onto my pencil and paper like it was going out of fashion - and it was,
I drew a weak line of acceptance under my reluctance to change. Inevitably as my resistance grew my commitment
waned and my line became as smudged and as blurred as I needed it to be. Other people began drawing their own lines
to contain my attitude, lines that I invariably ignored or tripped up on.
There came a point when the asset of my ability was overshadowed by my talent as a liability. I’d been working tirelessly on
a personal project, my alcoholism. My dedication to that freelancing finally paid off, I had drunk myself into unemployabilty.
Alcohol, my long-time colleague, companion and comfort was a far more demanding boss; twenty four hour shifts,
back to back, week in, week out, no holidays and no benefits. Being drunk all day is so time consuming.
Not much of my day was spent actually doing it; I filled my time with thinking about it, how or where to get a drink.
Even if I arrived at a decision it took so long to muster the motivation to do anything about it, the only incentive was to not be without.
I remember occasionally considering drawing a fresh line, a line between me and the bottle but the moment was always too fleeting.
It took years of consideration before I picked up the stick to draw it with.
'The result of a determined effort not to learn'
Emulsion and acrylic on canvas. 30"x30" NFS 
'A pleasant and intelligent lad but ignorance does not bother him'
Emulsion and acrylic on canvas. 30"x30" NFS 
'There is little hope of success'
Emulsion and acrylic on canvas. 70x70cm NFS 
'He appears to generate a lot of heat - we await the light'
Emulsion and acrylic on canvas. 30"x40" £450.00 |
NFS
'He tends to be haphazard'
Emulsion and acrylic on canvas. 70x70cm NFS 
'Much below the standard expected'
Emulsion and acrylic on canvas. 30"x30" NFS 
'His progress is marred by his immature approach'
Emulsion and acrylic on canvas. 30"x40" £450.00 |
