Gallery

The Pigsty – Wainscott School

Acrylic on hand-stretched canvas

152cms x 76cms x 4cms

In the out-of-bounds area, behind the main school, was the old pigsty. Sometimes the pigsty could provide a brief refuge from life. One day I found my sister crying there.

In this series of works, I am readdressing my childhood memories and attempting to recreate new and positive energy.

The old Victorian terraced houses would look down upon us, knowingly aware that we were awful children, and didn’t belong … or deserve!

The work has been created using; artist grade, acrylic, durable paint. The work support is 12ounce, heavy duty canvas. The painting is ready to be hung.

Painting with Dissociative Disorder

The Significance of ‘Mushroom’ in my Works

I was born in London, ten years after the Blitz, back then life had its challenges; food was still rationed and the remains of the devastation was still very much apparent.

Live bombs had fallen and had destroyed houses on either side of the family home – and it is my belief – that my mother was affected by the ongoing sequence of nightly bombings.

As a child I found my mother to be volatile, unpredictable, dissociative, and did not care for me at times. I was often filthy! Greasy dirt – like minute rat poos – remained between my toes for weeks.

My siblings and I lived without a father figure, times were hard, we had very little financial support.

I discovered meditation at an early age – and it helped – and would often find myself sitting at the bottom of the garden, beneath a huge rambling rose tree, gazing into oblivion. In the summer months the rose tree came into bloom, and from a distance it looked like a giant pink mushroom.

In my works, I utilize the ‘Mushroom’ in several ways; to show my disassociation from the main subject matter, to imply happiness in general, freedom and joy.

Albion Terrace – with Pink Mushrooms

Acrylic on hand-stretched Canvas

152cms x 91cms x 4cms

Nestled on the banks of the River Medway, and situated about an hour walk from home, was the tiny, ancient village of Upnor in Kent.

Upnor was one of my childhood haunts. Not only did it have a 14^th century castle, but also a 19^th century training ship. The river beach was perfect for ‘Mud-larking (searching for treasure).

During my childhood, coming from a dysfunctional family unit, I would use my walks around the English countryside as a form of escapism.

The view in this painting is looking down Albion Terrace (houses), with The Arethusa Training Ship to the left. I am riding a pony – in the foreground – with a friend, Christine, riding beside me.

Painting with Dissociative Disorder.

The Significance of ‘Mushroom’ in my Works

I was born in London, ten years after the Blitz, back then life had its challenges; food was still rationed and the remains of the devastation was still very much apparent.

Live bombs had fallen and had destroyed houses on either side of the family home – and it is my belief – that my mother was affected by the ongoing sequence of nightly bombings.

As a child I found my mother to be volatile, unpredictable, dissociative, and did not care for me at times. I was often filthy! Greasy dirt – like minute rat poos – remained between my toes for weeks.

My siblings and I lived without a father figure, times were hard, we had very little financial support.

I discovered meditation at an early age – and it helped – and would often find myself sitting at the bottom of the garden, beneath a huge rambling rose tree, gazing into oblivion. In the summer months the rose tree came into bloom, and from a distance it looked like a giant pink mushroom.

In my works, I utilize the ‘Mushroom’ in several ways; to show my disassociation from the main subject matter, to imply happiness in general, freedom and joy.

Bingham Road Post Office – with Mushrooms

Acrylic on hand-stretched Canvas

152cms x 76cms x 4cms

Reinventing my childhood.

Back in the 1960s, walking great distances to access shops was a necessity.

Wainscott, the village in which I grew up, was situated a mile or so from the nearest town of Strood (Kent).

Regularly my siblings and I, plus our mother, would embark on the journey to Strood. On the way, we’d reach our first port of call, the post office. My mother would go inside to buy a stamp and chat forever … we would wait outside, bored, weary and cold.

In this work I have reinvented the norm! Across the road would be a pond, where one could fish for tadpoles, the weather would be perfect, and ponies would be freely available for all to ride.

I am the small child to the right. I am surrounded by the symbol of an apple. I would often take an apple to eat, on my long walks.

Creating with Dissociative Disorder

The Significance of ‘Mushroom’ in my Works

I was born in London, ten years after the Blitz, back then life had its challenges; food was still rationed and the remains of the devastation was still very much apparent.

Live bombs had fallen and had destroyed houses on either side of the family home – and it is my belief – that my mother was affected by the ongoing sequence of nightly bombings.

As a child I found my mother to be volatile, unpredictable, dissociative, and did not care for me at times. I was often filthy! Greasy dirt – like minute rat poos – remained between my toes for weeks.

My siblings and I lived without a father figure, times were hard, we had very little financial support.

I discovered meditation at an early age – and it helped – and would often find myself sitting at the bottom of the garden, beneath a huge rambling rose tree, gazing into oblivion. In the summer months the rose tree came into bloom, and from a distance it looked like a giant pink mushroom.

In my works, I utilize the ‘Mushroom’ in several ways; to show my disassociation from the main subject matter, to imply happiness in general, freedom and joy.