The gentleman in the picture is a Writer. He remains as tricky and as difficult to deal with today as he did forty odd years ago. After a lifetime of travel, study and experience we would have expected better. But then, I am stuck with who I am.
Artistically, the work has comprised writing, painting and singing.
Yes! London in 1967! The Summer of Love!
Still have a couple of original canvasses from back then, although they had to get from Europe to Australia and then gather dust for decades. Deteriorated so badly I did two of them again on new canvasses. Everybody in London used to paint in those days and there was an interesting open air public gallery near the Gloucester Road Tube station, beside Kensington Gardens.
All the art galleries were available. Loved the Tate especially and found some ‘interesting’ Blake sketches in a backroom at the National.
Music was blues, folk and jazz at places like Les Cousins and The Peanut Club. Yes. Played guitar and sang. Knew Alexis Korner and Long John Baldry plus others.
Writing was sitting at an outdoors table on Earls Court Road, scribbling on a napkin. Still have hundreds of poems written over the years, mainly up till 1970 and then on again from 1990. The Navy years were not conducive to retaining much of an artistic or creative nature. It used to happen but typically ‘got lost’.
In all that time, the one consistent form of writing that did prevail was Technical. Hard Core engineering and technical documentation. You learn rules that way and to be strict. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
Currently there are some stories that really should be published.
The first is DARK ~ Millennium 3 This is the first of a trilogy dealing with what is happening and will continue to happen Now and throughout the Millennium among those who are already dead. It has allusion to the living, because those of us who are not yet dead will have interesting ways of dying, but it’s about what dead people do.
Another which is ready is more of a Specialist Book-an Adult Fairytale which was in fact written for a thirteen year old girl. She wanted to be able to fly: not like an Angel; like a dragon. So we did: Dragon Fly. It will need to be specially blocked though because the text is ‘shaped’ and each page of the manuscript will need to be published as-is. That one would probably benefit from some interior art too, so-specialist book publishing.
At least one other book is ready but that is more of a religious nature. It might get self-published actually, as an e-book at one web site or another.
Somewhere in there it would also be wise to have someone edit and compile the Poetry into collections. Over fifty years they became somewhat thematic so it would be interesting to see the emergence of some of the ‘personae’ that surround my creative world.
Religion: The Writer became a priesthood holder at age 15. He did not cease to be a Writer and that can cause problems. Being an Artist is not a matter of choice. It simply takes you, slams you up against a brick wall and tells you how it’s gonna be. Along the way you travel the world, wear interesting clothes just like everybody else’s and survive.
For an artist, survival is not guaranteed. The joke about an artist in a garret is not a joke at all. Van Gogh sold only one painting. For those who expect themselves to be self-supporting, being an artist as well causes problems.
People are inclined to insinuate you mustn’t be much of an artist if you have a day job. Pity.
So anyway. Tricky.
A priest.
A qualified Marksman: Crossed Rifles. No big deal but not apt to miss.
An Artist.
Christopher DC
