Fellow Artists

When I was a child I was fourtunate enough to be reared without a television. Often my peers would ask me what I did with no TV around to distract me. The question always seemed silly. What did I do? I played tag, hide-N-seek, board games and cards. I climbed trees or went on bike rides. I explored the banks of the Bow. I went to the Zoo or walked the main street of Inglewood. I drew and painted. I had an abundance of toys and a bright imagination. I wrote books. I journaled. I read.

Oh the books I read. My parents provided my brother and I with an abundance of novels, in all different genres by so many fantastic authors. There were mysteries, science-fiction, fantasies and historical works. There were books about animals or the solar system or the human body.

And there were books about art.

My introduction to art was through these fantastic books. First, there were incredible mathematical drawings by the brilliant mind of M.C.Escher. I would examine the twists and turns of his drawings and often attempt them on the plentiful sheets of paper available to me. My dad fixes photocopiers and as a result we always had reams of paper about. I thought it was strange when I'd go to a friends house and they wouldn't have blank paper at their disposal. Such a thing seemed barbaric. How, exactly, could they manage without such a resource? I was as baffled by this as they were by the lack of a television in my home. I could pull Brian Froud's book of Faeries off the shelf and settle onto the hardwood floor with a piece of paper and pencil in hand. I could sketch out the shape of faery wings whilst learning all about the different types I needed to keep my eyes open for when I was playing in the garden.

Sometimes I would just sit with a book and examine it, rather than using it to enhance my own passion for sketching. I adored the pages of the Roger Dean book, which showed a sort of organic futuristic world. His darker images like 'Gollum' made my shiver in a delightful way. But no one was as dark and twisted as Ralph Steadman, whose artwork was not in a book about him, but rather, a children's story he'd illustrated.

It was this treasure trove of brilliant artwork that fueled my young imagination. As I grew older I began to pursue my creative side in my schooling, taking art throughout High School. I stopped following artists very closely, however, and life took me in another direction upon graduation.

I have since begun, once again, to research art and artists in earnest, which is made easier for being in London. With so many museums at my fingertips, how could I not take the opportunity to gaze upon the original works of Picasso or Monet and to discover the whimsical delight of Koons?

Of course, it's also a new century and a time when a whole wealth of artwork is available through the click of a mouse. I've discovered the incredible force that is Hazel Dooney and come to admire sketch-artist extraordinaire, Andrea Joseph.

Combining the original influences with the new discoveries has been pushing my art in so many directions. I am able to understand social media marketing through the blogs of Dooney and Joseph, not to mention the inspiration their work provides. I continue to find energy and motivation from my old favourites, like Froud and Dean. But I'm open to more and excited for who will touch me next and find their way into my psyche and in some way, onto my canvas.