Last night i updated my website.
I created a new gallery called The Early Years. It was just going to be some of the work that i did at school, but it turned into me chronicling the creative path that led me to where i am now.
The images in the gallery are the all the works i did at school that i’m still proud of now, and hopefully soon i’ll add some photos of the even earlier years (i’ve just emailed my mum asking her to dig out some old photos and artwork i made when i was little… so stay tuned for that!).
You can visit the story here: The Early Years, but i’ll post it as a blog here…
I’ve always loved art and making things.
Colouring books, plastering my face with mummy’s lipstick, copious amounts of glittery doodles tacked to the fridge were the favourites of three-year-old me.
Steadily I moved on to more painty type things, with the odd doodle here and there. I have a wonderful mother who would book me parties at Doodles and other crafty things. Who bought me craft kits and let me mess up my desk with paint and scribbles and encouraged creative opportunities wherever they presented themselves. I have two creative parents, neither of them artists but entrepreneurs and creators of their own dreams. I can’t thank them enough for understanding that my art will not always be something that they understand and encouraging me regardless of this.
The school they picked out for me ultimately had a huge influence on where I am now, and luckily for me it had a great art department and contained two teachers who would initiate my love for making things and telling stories. At school I started to write (I cringe now looking back at those stories and poems but they were the start of my love for storytelling). Reading was where I would escape to when life around me got a little messy and being able to write down the stories in my own mind was just the most glorious thing in my whole world.
It wasn’t until taking up art in senior school that I combined my love for art and my love for storytelling together. At school you’re always pushed to produce photo-perfect renderings of still lives and fruit bowls, but in the A level course our understandings of art were expanded and our first project was to create an installation.
I’d never really made anything artsy, other than toilet roll tube castles and friendship bracelets, and I created something I was immensely proud of (see Untitled (Out of Nature)) and something that would instil the urge to make things within me for life. I also owe a lot to my art teacher who noticed this, he supported me in pursuing the sculptural side of my creativity. He also ran the photography course, and told me I had an eye for it; I believed him.
The other teachers were keen to see drawings and without his encouragements this path I have taken wouldn’t have been revealed until a lot further down the road, so thank you Mr.Adair.
And thank you Mr.Intihar; perhaps the most enigmatic teacher I have ever come across. I don’t remember ever doing all that much in his classes, but I learned so much. He managed to teach without teaching, he read things, and shared things with us and simply talked to us. I discovered my favourite book in that class, Cat’s Eye by Margaret Atwood, and was inspired to take it out of the classroom and into the art I was creating at the same time (see Cat’s Eye). Thank you Mr.Intihar, you wonderfully bizarre, banjo-playing, Canadian, for infusing that love for storytelling further than words on a page that I still carry in me today.
It’s amazing the things and the people that change your lives in small but colossal ways.