Another Steve again

Another Steve again

For me the journey into art/creativity started late. I wasn't the kid who could draw, and grew up in a blue collar household which was great but artistic endeavour could only mean one of two things. You were gay or eccentric. My only calm to fame in school was a pottery item, hand selected by the art teacher to be fired. Funnily enough I still have it. It makes a great door stop. Then in my early twenties while attending a screen printing course for work the teacher asked me if I was an artist after seeing a pattern repeat I had created. I laughed as you do when people see things in you that you don't want to admit to or can't see.

So what happened? I fell off my bike, literally. The driver of a parked car didn't see me and opened up the door, I did a graceful somersault but landed ungracefully breaking a leg and three fingers. This is the part were I'd like to say I woke up the next day and discovered I was creative, I just woke up in pain. However unknown to me a journey had begun. More like a solo sea voyage where the weather is rarely calm and the tempest inside my head rages against anything creative. My education, experiences, expectations will stop at nothing to capsize the vessel. Enough psych 101.

The accident took me out of action for a year and somewhere in that time I took up bonsai. Not so much as an art or craft but a boredom buster. After bonsai thirty five there was no money left for pots as workers comp was lucky to cover the rent. So my good wife, who was also bored of me being bored had the initiative to send me along to a free pottery course for cripples. That would be me. Her idea was to make my own pots. Ironically 18 months later I started my own pottery studio which ran for three years and in that time completed a certificate in studio pottery.

I no longer have a pottery studio but I still need an outlet for my creativity, So it is out with the pencils and paints.

As it comes - abstract acrylics

Coffee Table Book

A Little Surreal