Frame 20 - The space between the shadows.

Its been a while. How have you been? How have I been? On that, I'm not so sure.

A lot has happened, both in the larger world and in my own personal one. I now have a Fine Art degree. I now own a lot of synthesisers and other studio equipment and my vinyl/CD collection is now prestigious to say the least. I am now settled down with a lovely woman in a lovely home and its fair to say, much of the anger and angst of earlier years has dissipated like an early morning fog. So, in many respects I am in a better place. My trepidations on the state of the world and those inhabiting it are still present. I still worry about politics both here in the UK and in the world. I still allow the occasional conspiracy theory to draw me in and I still wear my inate cynicism like a protective cloak. Its often wrapped tightly around me nowadays.

But things are better, for me at least.

Back to that Art degree. It was an eye opener. I had no preconceptions on what it would entail let alone what I would gain from it.  So, it came as a great surprise when I realised part way through that I disliked the 'Art World'. All the pretentiousness and arty farty emperors new clothes abounded. Don't get me wrong. I love art but not the art machine that is the art world. Perhaps it was just the university I attended but I was underwhelmed by the teaching which was hard as there was next to none. The tutors trotted out the same old lines such as "which artists do you follow" and the words "identity, juxtaposition and contemporaneous" filled the air with non existent meaning, clogging up the arteries of creativity. Everyone was trying to be an artist rather than just being an artist. The distinction was subtle enough to elude the majority, even the tutors. But it wasn't all bad. There were some good artists with good ideas but they like me were on to a losing battle in that environment. I learnt a lot though. Not about art but about people. I graduated with a 2.1 and promptly downed my brushes, mainly from having been exposed to too much intellectual art wank over several years. I needed some time to reset my compass.

Almost a year later, I picked up the brushes again and here is the result:



https://flic.kr/p/Lj7imX

As usual, one of my eternal interests - Star Wars provide the impetus and the subject matter. These three Shoretroopers are the latest addition to the Star Wars universe and will be seen in Rogue One. I should also mention that in the last year or so I have become a Stormtrooper of Star Wars fame. I troop in armour as part of the worldwide 501st costuming group with the UK Garrison. Its a charitable pursuit and a lot of fun.

So this brings me to my main point. A sort of epiphany if you will and I have my good friend Robert to thank for this. His insight is often brilliant (I hope he is not listening). He was mightily impressed by this particular painting and pointed out that my work often reflects the authoritarian or even totalitarian aspects of society. True - the historical connotations of Stormtroopers coupled with the Imperial and Empire dominating aspects of Star Wars are undeniable. After mulling this over, I realised it should not come as a great surprise as I have rebelled against authority since I was a child. I rebelled against my teachers, the teaching system, my mother and my work. I am sure a psychologist would have a lot to say on the matter. However, coupled with that streak of rebellion and perhaps even due to it, was a yearning for freedom. I now realise that the idea of freedom balances my anarchic anti-establishment tendencies. In response, I have produced works based on travel and the open road. Perhaps I have found a balance: the Ying and the Yang. If I have, I find that truly bizarre and breathtakingly ironic.

But then I have always thought the universe was founded on irony...

Frame 16 - I surrender.

Last night I went to see a conversation between Brian Eno and Jon Hassel at the Southbank - London. It was part of the Ether festival. I am a great admirer of Eno and this was the first time I had seen Eno in the flesh. The show was a continuation of a dialogue that both had had over the pat years. The content was varied mainly unscripted. Now to the point of this blog. Surrender. Eno postulated that surrender in its non passive form was experienced in four aspects of life; Sex, Drugs, Religion and Art. It is here that we feel able to let go, drop pretence and wander emotionally and spiritually and perhaps even intellectually. This in the context of art resonated with me deeply. More so as it is something that I have been battling with over the past few months as I try to establish my painting style. This, coupled with a similar discourse on "Understanding what it is that I like", an attempt to identify what we like and hence may be best at, led to a mini epiphany. I have been toying with ideas for paintings and books. Its been a constructive time. Many ideas have been dead ends. But as Eno states, its the dead ends, the failures which steer you inexorably towards the good stuff. We should not be afraid of failure, we should welcome it and use its lessons wisely. And so it was that all I had been struggling with, all that I had failed at, all that I surrendered to, became clear. I was/am on the right track. I awoke this morning and decided to restart a painting I was some way into. It was not right. It was a failure. I have repainted it now and I feel confident it has a better chance of turning out the way I envisaged it.

Above is a chance shot one evening under Waterloo Bridge in London. I think she was waiting for someone - a lover perhaps. Anyway, the way the light outlined her form captivated me.

Frame 15. Mr Statter - my art teacher

Mr Statter - Art teacher
Originally uploaded by No end insight

As we wend our way thru life we glance against other people. Occasionally we join their orbit for a while and their direction affects ours - sometimes many years later. Mr Statter is such a man. He was my art teacher at secondary school. This photo was taken somewhere between 1979 and 1981 when I was 17 or 18. As a child I was troubled - tho I didn't really know it and certainly didn't understand it. I mucked about a lot. It was all a mask.....tho I did do and say plenty of rather funny things. My home and family life wasn't great - not as bad as some, but not ideal either. So, maybe I sought refuge at school, to get away from home. Art was an oasis of calm, creativity and understanding. That was my home. Mr Statter taught me for 7 years and encouraged me throughout. Although I did well enough to get an A Level grade C, I could have got a grade A if I had tried harder. I could and indeed should have gone to art college - something Mr Statter and I regretted for many many years. For, after 28 years I found and dropped in on Mr Statter or David as I can now call him, only yesterday. I found him via the internet. For some time I had wondered if he had ever wondered about what happened to all those children he taught. For some reason I thought I owed him the debt of knowing that I had, eventually after 28 years, decided to be an artist.

Would he remember or even care about me?

Yes and yes. He remembered me as he opened the door and invited me in immediately. We chatted for 2hrs, caught up on 28 years, looked at each others work and drank tea - well this is England you know! But what really struck me was him saying that I was one of the most gifted students he had ever taught in his 18 years of teaching art. I was flabbergasted. I had never expected to hear that and wasn't prepared for it. I felt awkward and honoured all at the same time. Over the last 24hrs it has sunk in and now I feel more determined than ever to make it as an artist.

He was so happy that I was creating again and urged me not to stop.

My debt was paid but as is sometimes the way, I had got a greater gift than that I had intended to give: the knowledge that someone did care and still does.......

Frame 14. "What's on TV?"

It's been a while since I blogged. Not that I have grown bored with blogging, I have just been plain busy....which is great. Not much photography but I have been printing like crazy from my new Epson R2880 in preparation for a stall I am going to open in the illustrious Greenwich market in the next couple of weeks. But my recent flurry of labour was finishing a second painting - seen here. Again, it is from a WW2 photo and again, I added my little twist. Painting is very satisfying. I had forgotten the joy it could arouse. I have a third and maybe forth painting in this series to paint and that will start this week. It's all systems go - it's bleedin' marvellous! So - more blogs to follow.......

Frame 13. "There's Someone Driving..."

Driving.

There are many definitions but the one that interests me at the moment is driving as an ambition, a force, an urge to fulfil.

Today I am painting a new work of art. Yesterday I painted, the day before that, the same. The day before that, you guessed it, I painted. What is is that drives me?  Well, I have noted how my drive changes over the course of a painting. In the planning stage I am excited. When the painting is outlined on the canvas, my excitement rises a little. When painting starts proper, my excitement wanes as I start to see the enormity of the task and any pitfalls come to the fore.  I battle on and at some point the battle transforms into drive. I have a definite desire to complete the project, an almost unstoppable desire to see it through to completion. Thats the drive and it means I paint for days on end. Its tiring of course and I feel knackered but carry on regardless. Normally after 4-5 days I need to rest or I get burnt out. This drive is a strange feeling. I think of little else. 

Above is a photo taken in Eltham, SE London. All the ducks were swimming on the water as the Lemon Jellys sang. There was a film of green covering the surface of the moat and in the middle sat two ducks - perfect photo material.

Frame 12. "Do the job he left behind"

"Do the job he left behind"
Originally uploaded by No end insight

This is an acrylic painting I adapted from a WW2 photo. The ladies are left behind in war time to carry out the mens work. So as to remain faithful they start a new line in armaments...

I searched the web for rousing WW2 posters and slogans and found "Do the job he left behind". It seemed appropriate... I was fascinated by the many weird and wonderful WW2 photos I found whilst researching for a new book I intend to write. So much so that I have been diverted (in a very nice way) to paint some more of them. They will all have a subtle twist of my own invention. This got me to thinking about distraction. Sometimes I am angry with myself for not painting one day of not having photographed something for over a week or not having finished that book or made any new music. But what I have come to realise is that inspiration should be my guide. So what if I haven't photographed anything in over a week? I may next week. The important thing is to grasp the moment - Carpe Diem! I want to paint now - not next week. Next week it may be the reverse. I am fired up with enthusiasm about painting this week. I feel I need to let these creative urges follow their own course. I am a passenger on a journey of creativity - where we go, no one knows. And THAT is exciting!

Frame 11. Small Steps, Sure Steps...

Tate Modern
Originally uploaded by No end insight

Today I received my business cards. They are "ok". Next time I will go for the glossy option. I also received the custom t-shirt which was supposed to have one of my photos on it. Instead it had a photo of three unknown people. They looked happy enough but I was set on having my photo instead of theirs. Call me picky.

Anyway, armed with the business cards I set off to find fame and fortune - well, sort of. I visited a new trendy bar in Lewisham SE London called "Fused". They exhibit local artists work for a period of 4 weeks during which you have the option to sell it. Dave was the owner - nice chap. He liked my photos and offered to display mine. that was easy thought I. It rather took me by surprise as, even though I have my new mega printer, inks and very expensive paper, I have not got around to printing anything other than test prints so far. Events have overtaken me. Good thing really. It's the kick up the arse I need.

Next I went to a trendy cafe in East Dulwich, SE London that I discovered some weeks ago. The Blue Mountain Cafe has the space to display over 12 of my photos. The person in charge was impressed with my wares and I may have an opportunity to display there in May. Again, that was easy.

So the moral of the story is that, what I thought would be the hardest part of this artistic journey - finding places to exhibit, has in fact turned out to be easy...so far at least.

Above is a photo i took with my compact last week of the Tate Modern Gallery in London.

Frame 10. I Advance Masked.

Funny how things sometimes come together like pieces of a galactic jigsaw puzzle. And if this is a galactic jigsaw puzzle, how big is the box?!

For many years I denied I was an artist. The mere concept seemed to come at a price - the price was failure. But life was about to change all that. A divorce, redundancy and eventually having to sell my flat left me bereft of personal possessions. Without these chattels I had time to reflect. What was I afraid of? What was there to lose, that I hadn't already lost? More importantly, what was there to gain? Looking at it as a set of scales or an equation, on the minus side I could fail to "make it". On the plus side I would have tried, I would have no regrets, I would never say to myself "what if". And, I might even become successful! But above all this, I would be creating in the meantime - expressing myself and allowing others to see my work. So it was that the scales were tipped, the equation finalised and I decided "I am an Artist!" I tell myself that every day now. I am becoming what I believe I am. I move towards that place - become that person. I think like an artist, move like an artist (yes - you can move like an artist) and I visualise myself and the feelings I will have whilst being an artist. The concept is becoming a reality. It is inevitable. It is unstoppable. It is meant to be.

So, why the reference to "I advance masked" in the title? Well, firstly it is the title of an album by Robert Fripp & Andy Summers. I heartily recommend the album. Secondly, I like the analogy to my present situation. I feel I am advancing towards a state of free artistic expression but still slightly obscured from the world. I am about to unmask myself on an unsuspecting public...

Above is a photo of The London Eye I took some time ago. I consider myself lucky to live in London, but, like most Londoners, I rarely do the tourist things. But I have been on the Eye twice and it does give spectacular views across London and the home counties on a clear day.

Frame 7. 1-2-3-4-5 Senses Working Overtime

Must be the time of year or the time of my life. Another post concerning the senses. The other day it was sight, today it is hearing. I was in my car today, listening to my iPod (an absolute obligatory accoutrement). I was listening to one of my own creations - yes, I make music too (is there no end to this mans talents I hear you gasp). Anyway, I was reminded of the time that I recorded it. It was the 30th August 2002. Not a special day in itself, other than being a couple of weeks before my 40th birthday. But it was also 10 months prior to a life changing event - my split from my wife. I was in my study, recording the tracks that were to become "Travelling without Moving" (a title from a quote from the film Dune) with my headphones on. At this point I should explain that I am not a masterful keyboard player and rely heavily on the computer software to correct my mistakes. So, it was with some great surprise that I found myself recording the lead track "live" to the point that tidying up was minimal. How it was that I played off the cuff in such an exquisite manner I will never know.  I can remember the rush of exhilaration when playing it back. Was that really me? Now to the point. I was recording with my headphones on. Playing along oblivious to the outside world and it oblivious to me. To anyone peeking in, I would have looked like some mad professor, enraptured by some experiment. That event, that feeling, that performance was for me alone to perceive. No one else was party to it. And today, that got me to thinking. As each day presents itself, what other senses might be at play where a person experiences an event which no one else can perceive? And as we alone experience it, do we appreciate that reality?

By the way. You can hear "Traveling Without Moving" on Myspace.com at the address listed in my links at the top right of this page.

Above is a photo taken at sunset in Bromley (UK). It was a fantastic sunset, I was in a flat overlooking the trees and strangely enough, as mentioned above, felt I was the only one seeing this magnificent sunset. I appreciated....

Frame 6. The Dark Elevator

Up into the darkness I went. The multi story car park had one of two lifts out of order. I awaited the other. It arrived, the doors slid open and the occupants walked out...of the darkness. "That was different" one commented. Like some fool I walked in and in the gloom as the doors closed I searched for the button for my floor.

Why are we afraid of the dark?

Maybe it goes back to childhood - I am no shrink.

What I do know is that 15 second ride in that pitch black elevator was scary but exhilarating. I  had put myself in a strange situation. The blackness was different from just having your eyes closed on a moon-less night. My eyes were wide open and it was as if light did not exist. There were people all around me, a mobile phone in my pocket and a lung full of air if I needed to scream but I felt alone in the middle of a large town - as if there was no one to communicate with .

Then the doors opened, I breathed a sigh of relief and exited.... into the bright sunlight.

Above is a photo taken by the Thames at Greenwich, London. The buildings are disused and b&w  beckoned me. I reworked it in Photoshop to make the sky more ominous and tried to make it look a little film noir.....

Frame 5. "Glee"

This is "Glee".

I shot this early one morning as the joggers went about their business and this girl made her way happily to school. It was a magic moment and I love the feeling of happiness in the photo.

Frame 4 . And pylons are nice too...

Electric Pylons are nice too. Much maligned but yet a thing of beauty in the right conditions. I took this last year and liked the idea of  applying that 'ol sepia effect to introduce an air of nostalgia. For who knows - they may all disappear one day and we will yearn for the good old days of overhead cables, humming in the dry air...

Frame 2. Let there be light.

Ever thought how important light is? Of course you have. Well, last night the fluorescent light in the kitchen gave up the ghost. Myself and my partner found ourselves searching for torches and frantically angling lights to illuminate the area. It was perfectly well lit to enable us to function in it but the inability to simply switch on the light seemed to have thrown us into the dark ages (forgive the pun!). its fixed now - but what else do we take for-granted? 

Speaking of light, here is pic I took on Blackheath, London. The sun was setting and for some reason the rather innocuous bus shelter appealed to me. The light was streaming thru it and it took on a cathedral stained glass like appearance. Some editing in Photoshop (another love of my life) revealed the true glory. i love it, not only for the light, but the composition. The geometric Mondrian-like shelter, the lone figure hoping that a bus will eventually come and the silhouettes, which I find terribly powerful. Added to this I managed to capture the Stella Artois blimp doing its advertising rounds that day. All in all - its a fave of mine.

Frame 1. OK - here I am. So what do I do now?

I am an Artist. I paint, photograph, write and make music. I need to create. I need to express. I need to drink tea.

And so it begins....