Moleskine Pages- When I Was A Child

When I was a child I was convinced my toys had their own secret lives and I physically ached to be part of it. Anything would have been better than my reality. I so longed for a world of magic, fairies and Enid Blyton realms to exist. I talked to cats, birds and ants in the hopes of finding common ground. Growing up only made the world smaller, drabber and less interesting. Nothing could match my imagination and that is something I'll never get over.

The Lights Are On - Moleskine Art

Being Stupid - Moleskine Art

Like most children I had an implicit faith in the fact that adults knew everything, could do anything and would stop at nothing. Aged four I caught head lice from Kindergarten. My aunts and Arabic grandmother's solution was to douse my head in petrol and sit me in the sun where the petrol could do it's job. It was lucky I didn't burst into a ball of flame before my mother rescued me. Her anger at my plight planted seeds of doubt in my mind... maybe adults aren't all that clever, maybe they didn't order the sun to rise in the morning and set at night! This knowledge was at once confusing and empowering. I could use for my own ends, and I really did. I became very adept at setting adult against adult by whispering in this ear and innocently dropping a comment there. I spent my time eavesdropping and spying. I learnt how to be wallpaper and breath under furniture, and it helped me come through those powerless years less 'scathed' than I would have otherwise been.

Human Waste - Moleskine Art

When I was six and living in Kuwait, my bed was placed beneath a window. I'd lay on my bed and pull the curtain over my head . I'd then pretend that when I pulled the curtain back I'd be seeing the world around me for the very first time. I'm imagine what it would feel like to see the sky, the stars and the sea for the very first time and without preconceptions. To understand the most basic facts of being human, my body and the existence of others like me. I'd spend hours going over different scenarios till I fell asleep. I once convinced myself that I was turning into a plastic doll. I felt my legs go stiff and inflexible, my eyes: fixed and staring... at this point I was so alarmed I yanked myself back from whatever state I'd hypnotised myself into and never tried that game again. I have such vivid memories of my internal conversations, the strange world inside my head. I still spend time there when I am alone, surprisingly I haven't aged in that parallel world, I seem to have stuck at six.

Cowboys And Bitchgirls - Moleskine Art

My personal tribute to Ladybird books for children. Anyone growing up in the UK can't fail to have some deep mystical connection to these books. I so wanted to be one of these sunny little children in their sunny little lives. The illustrations by the likes of Harry Wingfield and Martin Aitchison are evocative, brimming with childhood innocence and deeply aspirational. I can't be the only person who feels this way. One of my dreams is to own an original illustration from one of these books.

In The Garden Of Eden - Moleskine Art

My childhood experiences taught me that to an extent the phrase 'childhood innocence' is an adult fantasy. Children can be breathtakingly cruel to each other. It goes along with a code of secrecy that would leave a hardened gang banger in tears of admiration. The bully keeps quiet in order for his reign of terror to continue, the bullied keeps quiet out of shame and fear of further retribution. The lucky of us come out of the other end relatively unscathed. It shapes us more than we know. Although I was never a bully, I was sneaky, a consummate liar and at times fiercely self righteous.

IT Happened In The Kitchen, A new work

It happened In The Kitchen. This is a new piece 18" X 12", on Illustration board. Original available for sale. Limited edition signed prints  for £60.

Pages from my current Moleskine sketchbook

Childhood insecurities...AGAIN! will I ever get beyond them? At this stage I doubt it. The feeling of being slightly out of step with one's peers. Being out of the loop and pretending not to care. All my peers seemed to my eyes to be so self assured, composed as if they'd received the life manual: read it, digested it and put it into action. I was missing something!

I think I am the bull in this image. the bullfighter is my show-off tormentor. I am the purple victor!

A new moleskine March 2011

So much of my work reaches back to my childhood, I feel a great need to give a voice to my 5 year old self. At the age of five I was a master at reading people and behaving in a way that would save me from trouble. My antennas were on constant alert, it was exhausting, but it was a survival mechanism. As an adult I am free to say whatever I want but why then do I still feel afraid?

I used to fantasize as a child about having superpowers, I was convinced there was a way to acquire them, all I had to do was wait for a sign. It is obvious now that these fantasies stemmed from a deep sense of powerlessness and frustration. Ok, enough with the amateur psychiatry, the less said the better.

I am posting a couple of pages from my new sketchbook. There is not much to say as they are pretty clear.

Moleskine pages.

I did this while watching the news, seeing the entire middle east rise up willing to die for a better life, is that an oxymoron?

Ultimately we are powerless in the face of time. We think we have control but we really don't. The best one can hope for is a quiet life!

I think this is to do with powerlessness. Of wanting things to stay the same. I was thinking about how the people who loomed large in my childhood are now all insignificant or dead. As a child you can't imagine your life being different.

When I was small I asserted my power and sense of self by nurturing deep seated feelings of hate towards those I feared. It was the only bit of identity I could carve out for myself. I wasn't allowed any sense of self determination. That is why I am such a screw up now I guess! Have I given away too much?

I am currently working on some 3D sculptures, rag dolls really. So I'm not working as much on my sketchbooks. I still do my double page spread a day, that is my golden rule that I refuse to break. I am posting a couple of pages just for the record.

More Moleskine pages (older ones)

I have a backlog of over 36 completed Moleskine sketchbooks thus far, and they are the only part of my work that is not for sale. Too much time , blood, sweat..blah blah goes into them and it makes it impossible to put a price on them. I do enjoy looking through them now and again, and I am always surprised by how completely I forget what I've done. It's as if they were someone Else's work and words. I did say I'd post some older pages and this is what this  is about.

Certain events in my life messed with my head and forced me to question the fundamentals of good and evil, right and wrong. It also turned me away from rigid inflexible dogma that allows people to set themselves up as judge and jury. To decide who lives and who dies and why.

This depicts some complex feelings about being a girl child in a place that favoured little princes. Of having to steal enough of the spotlight to see me through. Apparently the lack of a penis rendered me unworthy. Funny that!

These images touch on some very deep emotional subjects about my life. There are complex back-stories to each of them. I'd be happy to answer any questions you may have.