EARLY     

Growing up, I was never encouraged to look back. The past was over, move on. 

I often find myself looking at everything in the past as a mistake.  Most of my memories are of me somehow being cringe so I tend to think of the past as something to snap out of, don’t do again, and shake off.  I was always getting it wrong.  And, you know, there is something to that, because you just keep pushing forward, but maybe it is rather a harsh way of living.  

I recently took a look at the work I created in my first couple of years of drawing and painting.  I was 45 when I started and I never had an iota of faith in my abilities to draw with a pencil or paint with a paintbrush. But I just kept at it and I kept improving.  

Thing is, today I actually like some of these pieces an awful lot.  And I couldn’t make them today.  I can’t create work like this now because if I tried, it would look contrived and the energy would be a lot different.  All these are in a style that will never be repeated.  These moments may be unrefined and technically unsound, but there’s a quality there to be appreciated.