My Creative Path in Pictures (part I)

As a child:-

I grew up in 1970’s Ireland with three siblings and two hard working parents; my Dad a Fitter Turner and a Seamstress Mum.  As a couple they were the epitome of cottage industry, both turning their hand to anything and everything – life was very much ‘make, mend and do’.

that's me on the far left grinning like a cheshire cat.

Here I am helping the lads (my Dad and my Brother) build the garden shed; wearing an orange hand knitted, honeycombed stitch jumper and handmade navy gaberdine trousers, paired with my very favorite and trusty red wellies.

When I wasn’t getting under everyone's feet, I’d be sat for hours with colouring books and crayons…my favorites were Crayola, a box of 48 no less!

As a teen:-

I was always making, cutting, sticking…always; from making easter bonnets to drawing from the beautiful photographs in my sisters copy of Vogue*.  I knew from an early age that no matter what the project was, I could fix it when things didn’t quite go ‘to plan’; there’s always another way, so I created with abandon and I loved it!

(* my sister has since pointed out that she didn't read Vogue, so perhaps it was Cosmopolitan...I know for sure that it wasn't Womans Way!)

Drawing was my ‘gateway thing’ at the time; I’d draw from life, from photographs or from my imagination. I didn't start painting until my late teens. 

Still one of the best years of my life:-

Leaving school at 17, I was lucky enough to get a place on a Foundation Course in County Donegal which I love, love, loved.  We did everything, jewelry, ceramics, print, photography, drawing, painting, art history and psychology. 

I lived on a shoe string budget but I was creating and for the most part I was very happy.

This experience was to be a double edged sword for me - it gave me a sense of purpose, of future, of myself but was all too short lived. 

Family circumstances intervened and by the time I was 19, I had a full time job in an Architectural drawing office having never made it to art college.

It was a creative outlet of sorts:-

Back in the late 80’s, architectural drawing was done by hand with pens like tattoo needles and razor blades for scratching out mistakes. 

The six years I spent drafting by hand gave me a comprehensive understanding of ‘the line’ and how to make it work efficiently and with effect. 

I rode the wave of CAD when it arrived in the mid-90’s and so my career as an Architectural Technician began.  I was known for creating beautiful drawings with a quality not often seen during these early days CAD; I believe it was a result of my time drafting by hand.

At various stages during my career I tried to study art outside of work but just couldn’t settle into it…it always felt like I’d missed the boat. 

So in the evenings and weekends, I turned my hand to mural painting and interior decorating…the sort of thing made fashionable by Kevin McCloud in the late 90’s and even a spot of signage painting for a Conservation Project in the Pheonix Park.

I think these large scale projects help me today to stand fearless in front of a large, blank vertical canvas.

By the time I hit my late 20’s I’d given up on all the extra painting and drawing projects; if it hadn’t been for my drafting job, I’d have had no creative outlet at all.

Into my 30's, I did do a lot of trekking, near and far and believe now that all I've seen on these adventures has been locked inside my brain/heart/soul waiting for an expressive outlet - who knew that outlet wouldn't present itself for another 20-odd years later!

I'm told this is a 3 minute read, so if you're reading this, thanks for taking the time to stick with it!

Next time...Part 2 of My Creative Path in Pictures where I look back at a gift from the banking crisis; say hello to England; further attempts at catching the boat that sailed and

finding my way to painting happy.