“Red hair..” for some reason appears a lot in my artwork

I have always drawn and doodled for as long as I can remember. During the weekly Saturday morning food shop in Cradley Heath my Dad would treat me to a ream of “Woolworths own brand” typing paper before catching up Mom, loaded down with bags. As a ten year old my school teacher, Mr Harris encouraged me to draw and paint as much as possible having spotted me doodling in my “rough book” when I was supposed to be making notes in class.

Ideas and images flood into my head, usually at the most unexpected times. I find myself waking up in the dark, early hours, I know if I don’t make my mark on paper the idea will fade. Unable to sleep I make my  way down stairs and make a quick sketch of the latest image…..though more often than not this “quick” sketch turns into an hour or so as the image comes to life like “developing photographic film in the dark room”… the image slowly appears, taking its first breath as it feels life for the first time, pulling itself forth from its faded past to a solid living being.

So, here are a few of my latest sketches, some have already made it into paint, others have yet to be developed.

Title “Oh Dad….”, inspired by my daughter Alicia x The canvas is in progress…oil glazes drying.

“The Enforcer c1930….” now evolved into a painting.

“Wombourne Cricketer” this too has evolved into a painting

developing ideas, scenarios for my characters….oh and a “quick” highland cow eye!!

a black country “mon” and his staffie….

He doesn’t realise it yet but someone’s “nicked his bike”

Characters “smudged” with graphite from another sketch

What he done to be told off?

Two drunken “buddies” outside the Bull and Bladder in “Quarry Bonk”….

Suppin` a beer in Ma Pardoes

One of my wife’s favourites, miniature dach…”poorly paw”

More characters

The old romantic…..posting a letter to his “loved one”

The “dark side” reappearing…..it happens to me periodically

Yours truly….retro gear

He “just appeared”……I have no idea!!

“What you looking at?….”

 A sigh of relief as the painting is finally complete.

Its been an eventful journey, one that has taken me through a range of emotions that I didn’t think possible whilst “simply painting”. I have certainly learnt a lot from painting in oils, it is such a beautiful medium to work with; both in its original and diluted form it has a rich buttery texture which is a delight to blend. Drying time however is another matter, my style lends itself to “glazing”, this is a technique where the pigment is diluted with turpentine and the fresh colour applied on top of a dried earlier layer. Each “layer” of colour allowing the one beneath it to “come through”; this technique is time consuming and requires patience though the effects are well worth the effort. its opaqueness is both a delight and a frustration. I discovered that the earthy pigments dry quicker than the dark greys; something I hadn’t allowed for with the cow on the left of the painting. Still, some fourteen months later I am pleased with the outcome. There have been times when I had to walk away, frustrated with certain elements of the painting, yet with a fresh pair of eyes a few days later the challenge became exciting once more. A particularly difficult challenge were the eyes on the “black cow”, originally their positioning and shape just didn’t work. My wife Mel, who is both my greatest fan and critic came in one evening and looking at it said “those eyes don’t look right”, she was of course correct and so I spent several days researching and sketching until I found “the look” that I was after.

I was like a child seeing something new for this first time when I finally applied the varnish, opting for a gloss finish, the layers of colour I had persevered with over the months “popped” and came alive. Whilst this is nothing new to me I cant help but be excited at this precise moment, its almost as if this clear, silky substance is the “elixir of life”.  Excitedly I called Mel to watch, as I applied the first coat of varnish over the eyes and coat of the cows…….she was astonished to see them “come to life”, a big beaming smile formed on her face and I was excitedly transported back to my inner child like self, applying the varnish with vigour and care, chatting excitingly.

Fingers burnt….a darker side of life.

The next in my series of paintings on the darker side of human existence; “Fingers burnt” is she really attainable to this pack of lusting misfits? Look carefully and you decide…….

People are a constant source of fascination for me, each person we see has a world as individual to them as you and me.  Yet how easy it is for us all to go about our daily lives, wrapped up in our own little world without a thought about how our actions can potentially impact on others. I am forever watching people around me, not simply studying their faces but the way in which they stand and move, their interaction with others. Each movement and glance giving a clue to what they are thinking and feeling.  The real “story teller” for me though are peoples eyes, look and “see” what they see; take a glance into their world as I do when I look into a persons eyes……..for sure they are the “gateway” into their soul and “some” you will wish you never had entered!

Its useful at times to have several pieces of work on the go, switching from one to another when ideas begin to dry-up it provides new energy into my work. My major project for the past 14-months has been the Highland Cows piece, between “glazes” I have found life in creating a number of fun “new pieces”. Characters, that seem to flow from deep within my imagination appear on the paper before me, I love this type of creation. Despite an element of darkness I hope you enjoy the fun side.

Part of a new series of paintings based around the early years of Black Country Gangster lifestyle

Well despite the snow and the bitterley cold weather, work continues on the Highland Cows with more paint being added this evening. Its been an interesting journey so far though its only been within the last fortnight that the sheer scale of this painting has ceased to intimidate me. Now this may seem an odd statement for you to read but trust me, most artists will tell you a blank white canvas is scary BUT one that is this size is, quite frankly more intimidating than offending the Krays in their local East End pub…well perhaps NOT that intimidating but you “get the picture!”

Now I love working in oil paint, the rich soft buttery texture blends so well and with it taking its time to dry has the advantage of it being able to be reworked over and over. There again the downside also is the drying time; once happy with the “blend” it cannot be worked again until fully dry which takes several days, sometimes a couple of weeks depending on the layers of paint applied and the temperature of the room.

Well enough “chat” for now, best get back “on it”, no rest for the wicked ……. I will post another update soon, that is providing I have enough “feeling” in my fingers to tap on the keyboard.

Fact; Young or old, riding a motorbike makes you come alive. Thanks to the icy weather and this infernal winter cold and cough which appears to be doing the rounds, I have ridden only a handful of times since December. It’s been three weeks since I caught the “bug” and I don’t mean motorcycling! Whilst the sneezing has ceased the niggling cough remains though it has eased considerably during the last few days. The weather is still cold, as it should be this time of year but at least it affords us drier periods without the frost and ice of late, so more “biking” on the cards.

Having a few chores to do I decided rather than drive to the post office and shops I would instead venture out on my naked “street-fighter” style GSXR750. The road looked dry, patches of bright blue sky and the hint of sunshine were an invitation which would be impolite if not criminal to decline. There was a chill in the air but hey, fresh air and the smell of the countryside beckoned. Pulling the bike out from the garage I could see it was in need of a wash and some TLC, this I could do tomorrow I decided so, choke-on and a quick “stab” on the starter button and she immediately “fired-into life”, thoughts of my neighbours discontent flickered in my head for a moment, though if I’m honest soon dispersed as the crackle of the engine filled the air. Eeasing off the choke and blipping the throttle, the “quartet” of cylinders filled the neighbourhood with the deep sound of pistons pumping and fuel flowing, “music” to all petrol heads in the vicinity. Togged up I sat on the bike, lifting the side stand and clicking into first gear I eased the bike up the driveway, having checked the brakes were working I rode out of the street and headed for my local garage.

Pumping air into the tyres, chore  number one, on the GSXR750 isn’t easy, the angled valve adapator I usually carry in the arm pocket of my jacket wasn’t there, loaned to a mate no doubt and forgot to ask for it back! Memory isn’t always what it used to be. Bending the pumps airline to reach the straight tyre valve on the wheels is awkward to say the least. Why manufacturers don’t fit angled valves as standard is ridiculous, but having battled with the air line for a while I succeeded with pumping the much needed “life” into the tyres which always lose a few pounds when the bike has been left standing for any length of time. Chore number two; I popped into the post office, posted the letters and almost ran out to my bike, eager to have “a blast”.

Heading out of Wombourne on the Bridgnorth road I decided to turn right on to the “rabbit run”. As I turned I overtook the pickup truck that was dawdling and having pulled back to the near side I accelerated through the gears to third just as my back wheel hit the first crest in the road, I twisted the throttle a little more; the front wheel lifted a few inches before I touced it back down, lining up for the left hander then the first sweeping right hand bend before the road straightens out. With clear vision ahead and nothing behind me I positioned for the next left before a short series of tighter bends. Exiting the right hand bend near the farm shop on my left I saw a car on my side which I was fast approaching. A road junction situated to the left which runs alongside the main road, tall grass and hedges obscuring my vision made me hold back but once I could see the junction was clear and the vehicle approaching was a safe distance away I moved over to the opposite carriageway and accelerated swiftly passed the car and back onto the near side, it felt good, I mean “really good”. The air held a chill but with the blood coursing through me, the adrenalin pumping as I rode, it didn’t seem to matter. Looking well ahead, planning my position, gear and speed I felt “great“. My mind was transported back to my teenage years, the feeling of freedom, the excitement of speed and agility only a bike can bring filled my head and my heart. I felt “together” with my bike, the surface of the road, each undelation and bump transmitted to my body through the bikes suspension and bars enabling me to control the bike on its throttle, ever so slight adjustments making the ride just that more pleasurable. Leaning into the twisties, moving my body position over the bike, pushing gently on the bars to ease the bike around the left and right hand bends, head lifted looking to where I would plant the bike next, this all contributing to making me “feel alive, truly alive”. I had a big beaming smile on my face, I found myself “laughing”as I rode. Only a biker can really relate to this feeling of total euphoria. Today I felt “better” today I knew “I had come-back” from a dark period that had engulfed me these past few weeks.

Dark clouds were descending as I headed home, gone were the patches of blue sky, the sun never having made a full appearance. I decided to head back through the village of Seisdon and Bratch Locks. The lane was narrow and from the amount of mud collecting in the middle of the lane, evidence that this road was used by local farm tractors. Signs were posted “road prone to flooding”, presumably from excess water draining off the adjacent fields. There were sections of road that were just wet, others with a film of slimy mud where large vehicles had straddled the mound of mud that had built-up along the middle section of the road. These were tricky conditions which made the narrow road difficult to navigate safely. Despite it being a “national” you would have to be an idiot to ride it at 60-mph in these conditions. The road was a “twistie” too and the level of mud in the centre, cutting the already narrow road into two made it impossible in places to use the full width of it to improve forward vision. Only thing to do was to choose my position with care and drop my speed considerably. Eventually a “T” junction appeared and the road heading toward Bratch Locks was dry, still narrow but as I was now able to use the full section of road I could increase my pace as I was able to see well ahead and once again the “music” from the engine filled the air as I “danced a tune through the gearbox” amplified eloquently by the 4:1 exhaust system.

Arriving home in Wombourbe the street where I live is very peaceful and quiet, I love living here. Usually the only sounds are from the children playing on the school field which is located to the rear of our house and street. Until that is when I returned; the exhaust sound as addictive as it is I can’t resist, when I pull up onto my drive just one last “little blip” of the throttle, before killing the engine. The air suddenly goes quiet, all that can be heard now is the spinning noise from the fan as it cools the radiator and the periodic “clinking” noise from the engine as it cools and as it does the melody previously loud and tuneful simply softens and fades.