I loved going into my own world. I would copy comics, destroy homework journals, and draw giant pictures of naked women on the blackboard when the teacher left the class room. I loved the reaction I got from people looking at my art. Good and bad.

But it wasn’t until the age of 16 that I picked up a paint set, when a friend passed away in a car crash, Brian Tester, he was a neighbour up the road who took me fishing a few times, his wife gave me lots of his things, including pyjamas, jeans, jackets and a big box of brushes, paint, and art books along with a Frank Clark demonstration video.

I laid everything that wasn’t art to rest, in a bin, and then my obsession began.

I never pursued painting conventionally, as I wanted to explore more adrenaline fuelled experiences. Leaving home at 17 I went to become a watersports instructor, and taught windsurfing and white water kayaking around the South of France and Ireland. Then I became a dad, (got my fair share of adrenaline experiences with that too). I then studied theatrical drama and became an actor. (Back to enjoying getting reactions).

And I always had art accompanying me along the way, untainted by the pressures of any art college or the need to make a living from it. This has always kept it special. And I nurtured it organically as a passion, a secret gift, and as something I could turn to if things were tough and life was challenging. Art relaxes me and gets me in the now. Feeds the soul man.

As I get older I find myself digging a little deeper with my art. And I get lots of enjoyment sharing it with people along the way.