Acrylics

The Block…

Having never previously experienced an artistic block I didn’t initially identify what was going on for me. At first I just thought I didn’t feel like painting but as the weeks passed by and I didn’t even want to pick up a pencil, let alone a paint brush, I began to recognise a profound flatness to my creativity. what a bloody awful experience. Thankfully it only lasted five weeks before I got my mojo back. This piece represents the feelings I endured within that time period.

Whist painting this i was feeling every inch of the energy it took to combat my defects of character. This month has been a particularly difficult one due to what I perceive as people taking me for granted. Thankfully these days I have an outlet where I depict what’s going on for me without the need to resort to more destructive measures.

I thought I’d do something a little different this week, so I chose to play with a little ‘tongue in cheek’ or in this case ‘ball-gag in mouth’

Green Dreams 3… Acrylic on canvas 1000×7

With this particular one I implanted the figure removing his prison uniform and escaping through the canvass into a fantasy world of freedom. Although the image refers to liberty as a final destination, the actual process of painting is the very epitome of escapism in of itself.

The Disease of Addiction.

Acrylic on paper 400x200mm

First the man takes a drink,

then the drink takes a drink,

then the drink takes the man.

Weight of Oppression 4 Acrylic on paper 800x600mm

Give me the opportunity to express myself in a constructive manner and i’ll stop drawing on your walls

Some days are just SHITE! I’ve spoken previously in-depth about the defects of character I’m able to identify within myself these days. Who would of guessed that taking ownership of these flaws could be so beneficial? without going into detail there was a real need to do a gratitude list on that particular Tuesday which helped lead to the decision of creating and sharing this piece

I’ve had my fill…

Latest series, 9 paintings in collaboration with Dr Dean Kelland.

Prove yourself brave, truthful and unselfish, and someday you will be a real boy…(The Blue Fairy, from Pinocchio)

Alcohol, tobacco and cannabis are not the only gateways. Abandonment, abuse and neglect do more to set a child on the wrong path.

Surrounded by keys. The need to find your own release becomes paramount in the world of incarceration. Using a combination padlock for the character’s head is a real enough concept for me. I’ve spent a considerable number of years attempting to find a solution for the spiritual malaise contained within my mind and soul. Incarceration of the physical body is an obvious enough sight, identifying the self imposed imprisonment that accompanies a toxic mindset full of self loathing and shame is much more difficult to comprehend.

Blue Boy 5 (fight, flight, freeze) Acrylic on canvas 1000×750

There can be no flight for the innocent as long as he remains caged in a qaugmire of historic angst.

We are so quick to attach labels these days it often amazes me that a person can even move under the weight of such pressure.

Symbiosis… Acrylic on canvas 1000×750

The time I’ve spent in carceral settings has shown above all else that no matter what side of the wall you live on, staff uniform or convict stripes, prison is a toxic environment and it taints each and every one of us. 

I chose to depict the character made of rusty, steel plate emerging out of a similar background in order to show the relationship is one of the symbiotic kind.  An abrasive and toxic environment will inevitably make a person absorb and become hardened themselves. 

 

Blue boy 3, escape the blue igloo

Acrylic on canvas 750 x 1000mm

Finding myself accidentally falling into painting what’s become a series of work based upon my historic angst I’m finding it quite cathartic and liberating sharing so openly my vulnerabilities. Having spent a lifetime avoiding the questions from authoritarians regarding my history I would rigidly adhere to the same script almost as if it was a mantra. Reiterating only those known parts of my life which had already been documented since childhood. It went like this… Had a crap upbringing, then placed into the care of local authorities aged 11, first imprisoned aged 15, introduced and became addicted to narcotics in my formative years. In and out of prison until aged 27 upon when I had taken a life of an innocent man. I was incarcerated and sentenced to life imprisonment, such a narrow narrative of avoidance. Having been in a therapeutic environment for almost 5 years now I’ve found the strength to acknowledge that my feelings begin with acknowledgment of the truth and acceptance that although I can’t alter the past, I can assure the future is no longer tainted by its toxicity. This piece represents my incarceration as a child in bedrooms long before I experienced imprisonment of other types. The hardened stone exterior has given way to love and liberty for that lost little blue boy and how he’s finally begun to find the peace he so desperately sought.

Blue Boy 4 (escape the self imposed prison)

Acrylic on Canvas 750 x 1000mm

Conceptualising and executing this series has had quite a cathartic effect upon me, so the more I share of myself and the angst ridden history I’ve experienced the much greater the identification with vulnerability being strength rather than a weakness I come to acknowledge. This painting is much more that an individuals desire to escape his carceral surroundings. It represents a yearning, a need, to break out of that pigeon hole they’d been boxed into by years of oppressive voices reiterating the defects of character they pertain to witness in you. Given enough time a person will eventually come to believe this is an absolute truth. You ‘aren’t worthy’, ‘you are bad’. The cloak of shame I’ve worn throughout my life weighed heavy upon my soul until I learnt one simple lesson, the difference between guilt and shame. Guilt…I’ve done something bad. Shame…I am bad. Nobody can live a healthy fulfilling life believing they are defective no matter what label somebody insists on applying to you, remember you are a human being. You can make mistakes and you can make amends but never make yourself a prisoner.

Green Dreams 2

Acrylic on canvas, 750 x 1000mm

I’ve tried numerous ways over the years to depict the repetitive nature of imprisonment, sometimes with a great deal of success, others not so much so. This piece is one of those I didn’t quite manage to nail. It definitely started out as an interesting concept, a self portrait of myself painting myself, painting myself, painting the interior of a cell whilst a character to the right was priming, painting and executing a hole in the wall from which his art could offer the solace of escapism. Unfortunately upon completion it felt far too busy to me and seemed only to create confusion for the viewer. I suppose chaos and confusion could be deemed as a fair representation of incarceration but it wasn’t something that I had intended. But, as it wasn’t something that I had intended, I was left with a sense of disappointment with the finished piece. Maybe I’ll go back to the concept one day and alter it, who knows.

Nature Nurture 2

Acrylic on home made frame and prison fire blanket 650mm x400 mm

Due to the lack of understanding about why I was such an angry individual I would far too often act out with hostility, aggression and violence towards anybody or anything I perceived as a threat. I might not have known exactly why I behaved in this manner but I could clearly see the evidence of it destroying not only those lives I’d visited my particular brand of chaos upon but also my own. Choosing to do something about it I signed up to a therapeutic environment. It was during my five years of therapy I painted this piece. Like the majority of my work its a reflection of the intensity of the process in which I chose to lay myself vulnerable to intense scrutiny of others by creating very personal artwork. At the time of this painting I’d identified and endured the pain of grieving for a childhood lost to me. By depicting a sycamore seed with a child’s head I was acknowledging a nurtured child is a healthy child. I know my history wasn’t of that ilk but it doesn’t mean that my present and future can’t be full of love and nurture. Like many of my paintings its yet another acknowledgment of what was and a reminder of what can be.

The Revolving Door of Recall

Acrylic on canvas 1000 x 750mm

Having been the subject of recall myself I can fully identify with the abject feeling of failure which can, if allowed to fester, grow into a debilitating and toxic spiral of self destruction. Due to today’s political climate the practice of recall is par for the course and not liable to change any time soon. So rather than get out the soapbox and rant at a failing system, I chose to remember what it felt like as I walked back inside those dreaded walls, dejected, stripped bare of any self esteem, broken and powerless. The stench hits me in full the face, it leaches out of the wall with a stink of the 1000’s that went before me, the institutional smell of failure. A barely susceptible nod of acknowledgement from the haunted figure standing opposite me, eyes darkened from stress, body slumped from the weight of oppression. Looking around the holding cell at the multitudes of zombiesque figures, mostly addicts in different stages of withdrawal, crammed in like sardines waiting for the processing to begin. Only a few short months ago I was sat in a similar reception waiting for the process of release to begin. Only then there were just 4 of us and the difference was palpable. Every man had such high hopes, I stood 20 feet tall with such confidence, I’d managed to get through a life sentence, almost 18 years, my future looked bright and certain. I painted this piece so I would remember what awaited me if I don’t take off that institutional uniform of failure.

Blue Grass…Acrylic on wooden panel 5 foot x 4 foot

I had a space to fill under the sink in the studio. Instead of just boxing it in with ply I got the acrylics and some large brushes out and spent an hour or so plying with patination.

Ikon Elvis… Acrylic on canvas 1000mm x 750mm painted for Dr Dean Kelland as part of his solo exhibition at Birmingham’s Ikon gallery.

Alice and the cat… Acrylic on canvas 1000mm x 750mm

Painted in response to a short film being made by award winning writer and artist Denis Harrison. The script has an interesting take on the original storey. Denis depicts Alice as an alcoholic debating the very nature of insanity with the Cheshire cat. Despite Alice’s professing her sanity, the argument is concluded by the cat declaring “if you wasn’t mad you wouldn’t be here”

Fuck it button…Acrylic on canvass 900x450mm

I felt like playing around with geometric shapes.

Nature vs Nurture 3…Acrylic on paper 800x600mm

Blue Boy 2

Having spent the last few months working on different aspects of childhood traumas there was a genuine sense of grief accompanying my daylight hours.  Instead of just ignoring it I chose to put the tears down on canvas and embrace that scared little boy by way of homage to his pain.  I’d love to say the catharsis aspect of the process has now excised those demons but alas, it’s not as simple as that.  I can attest to it being much easier to deal with those traumas if I’m prepared to accept the process and move through it. 

Blue Boy

Acrylic on canvass 750 x 1000mm

The years I spent in therapy evoked many nights of internal angst. It became my practice to keep a pencil near at hand even whilst in bed I needed only to reach out in order to either write or sketch out an idea. This particular piece began life as an ink drawing titled ‘It’s an Inside Job’. Alongside the work our artist in residence was doing in relation to masks and toxic masculinity I was thinking about how much of my life consisted of avoiding what lies beneath the multitude of masks I felt the need to wear. Am I brave enough to not only scrutinise but actually share with the wider world that scared little boy who spent as lifetime incarcerated. Even as I look upon the image whilst writing this I feel a whole host of emotions ranging from sadness and shame to anger and resentment. The difference today is I’m no longer beholden to the core belief that I shouldn’t feel this way and certainly mustn’t let anybody know I might experience emotions. I feel what I feel and that’s ok with me. Embracing vulnerability has given me a new found strength in both my life and my artwork.

Welcome to the Arena

6ft x 4.5 ft, acrylic on canvass

Using French ultramarine to announce the feeling of coldness I created this piece as a testament to the hostile and insular environment of prison. Deliberately isolating the figure amid the dark uninviting recess doorways. I was attempting to depict the dangers of the unknown hence creating the eyes in the back of the head scenario. I used reference material from a mixed media photo that a computer whizz created for me. Showing me how to use art programs on a computer he took one of my original oil paintings of the convict in prison shirt depicting danger via eyes in the back of his head. Standing cropped it then layering it onto an image of a prison environment he overlaid the whole concept with a blue filter in homage to the convict I’d originally painted in blue. It was years before I came across a canvass big enough to encapsulate such detail and having kept the photo I proceeded to spend the next two weeks creating it anew. Big thanks to the computer whizz not for just this image but for what he also taught me about the possibilities of computers. You know who you are.

The Weight of Oppression 2

Kinky Afro

No Longer Screaming… 

Having painted a multitude of, ‘screams’ over the years and constantly hearing the same old question asked of me, “don’t you ever paint anything happy?” I chuckled when I finally finished this particular piece. 

“That’s as good as it gets for me, I’m happy enough to no longer be screaming”.

The Weight of Oppression

It wasn’t until I reached the open estate and found I could suddenly see the surrounding countryside for miles without any interruptions, that I realised I’d spent almost two decades without being able to see more than a dozen yards or so without brick and steel restricting my view.

Painted during the Covid crisis this piece represents how that much more invisible we felt to the outside world.

Gilt…

Another piece created during Covid lockdown.  Having to endure being removed from society as punishment for our crimes is difficult enough but Covid lockdown was something completely new.  Obviously we are used to being locked in a cell, so nothing out of the ordinary for a convict there, but for you, the general public, having your liberty revoked was indeed something new and, dare I say it, traumatic for some if not most.  Due to pandemic conditions, we now found ourselves locked in cells for over 23hours a day with 40 minutes out for showers and exercise being standard across the whole prison estate.  This went on for 16 full months before we saw any change by way of alleviation.  As a prisoner it felt like my particular cage had become even smaller, so I painted a figure crushed into a bird cage ensconced in a cell. 

The reason I chose to name it ‘Gilt’ was due to the unique situation I referred to earlier.  You too were now incarcerated during your own lockdown and understanding first hand what it means to lose your liberty. 

As the months went by I heard endless amounts of news reports citing people’s frustrations at not being able to leave home. Even though their houses may well be full of what the tabloids like to describe as “luxuries which prisoners enjoy” DVD, games consoles, live streamed entertainment, access to food, kitchens, bathrooms, music and so much more… absolute nonsense. What’s all that worth when you no longer have the liberty to do what you want?  Hence, a glided cage is still a cage.  The removal of freedom is a hell of a punishment and it should always be remembered, incarceration is the price of our guilt.  We are sent to prison as a punishment, not to be punished.

Acrylic on canvass 1000 x 750 mm

Painted during the 13th month of our Covid lockdown I guess the title speaks for itself. One thing which did surprise me was experiencing a sense of claustrophobia. Having spent the vast majority of my life incarcerated I suppose I presumed I was immune to such phobias. Surely you too would assume I would be used to it by now, either way, as the adage goes ‘the truth will out’ and boy, didn’t it just. I hoped by attempting to transcribe what I was feeling about being in such intense claustrophobic conditions it would somehow alleviate what I was feeling. Instead it proved to be exposing of all my inner angst and affording me the self permission to begin spitting hatred and anger at anyone within striking distance. Thankful to have been able to paint my testimony as it offers me the opportunity to address my approach to times of intense turmoil and personal strife.

Acrylic on canvas 1000 x 750mm

A piece I began with no forethought in mind. I laid down a few washes of burnt umber until something caught my eye. It’s a techniques I’ve employed lots of times when I just feel like painting but not sure what it is I want to paint. Upon the canvas was a lovely bit of pooling where the colour was thicker which was reminiscent of a cheekbone and the flare of a nostril so I allowed it to develop into a face. The lovely aspect of this completed piece was how it marred my particular feelings that week, full of contained hostility and primal emotions. I named the piece feral . A little later I went back in and altered the eyes resulting in a softer look and despite the cavemanesque feeling of the piece there was now a glimpse of intellect, almost a knowing within the eyes which almost appears playful. Maybe it was reflective of something new I learnt of myself during the alteration process.

Acrylic on canvas 1000 x 750mm

I guess we all at some time in life feel like we are just a puppet in somebody else’s play or for those of us with the ego of a megalomaniac, the star in somebody else’s show. As a convict its certainly a familiar feeling having to dance to another’s tune. Having your strings pulled in one way or another is par for the course in prison. Having used an artists manikin in a few paintings over the years, I thought it would make an interesting piece to see a representation of a figure literally cutting the ties that bind and setting themselves free. As the years take their tole upon me I’ve become much more insightful and reflective of exactly what those metaphorical binds as well as the physical ones may be and in which way they may affect the whole of my life if I allow them the scope to do so. Prison can be a harsh and hostile environment but its nothing compares to the self imposed prison lots of us built within our own minds. The need to set yourself free is an all encompassing one for me.

This piece symbolizes the rise in pollution from our parasitic behaviour. Ultimately endangering the Bee.

Acrylic on canvas 1000 x 750mm

Another piece created within our couple of years lockdown during the Covid pandemic. As the isolation took it’s toll art became all that much more important to me both as an outlet for my frustrations and companionship. Often I would paint how it felt to be locked down within what was already a restricted environment, prison, but this piece felt particularly representative of how my creativity afforded me a sense of freedom that others may not have had during that tumultuous time. I painted the figure and the internal dimensions of the cell in monochrome with only a hint of colour displayed on the landscape painting upon the easel which dribbled it’s paint to form a puddle upon the floor. The toes and lower limb of my character began to take on the colour as if his very skin itself is absorbing the paint. To frame the exterior I chose steel plate and rivets to denote the extra weight of oppression the lockdown evoked in me. Whilst the chain sited in that particular form represented the anarchistical symbol ‘A’ for freedom and liberty. Finally only the viewer can observe the keys on show as for those of us incarcerated, we had no knowledge whatsoever when that door would be opened again.

Practicing my figurative skills.

The beginning of Covid was a dark time and if you think time passes slowly outside, in here the clock ticks are slower…