About
Just a few random musings about my journey towards creating these paintings and drawings. Some of it may even make sense, at least to those of a certain age.
Hello internet. My name is Mike, welcome to my art. I was born in England when it was still in black and white, a few months before The Doctor first appeared in his TARDIS and JFK went to Dallas (1963, but I take no responsibility for the severity of its winter).
Growing up, I quickly learned which end of the pencil was supposed to go on the paper (it's the pointy bit; who says you can't learn from the net?) and spent a lot of time drawing reasonable approximations of cartoon characters like Bugs Bunny, Donald and Daffy Duck and my great favourite, Wile E. Coyote. I also spent a lot of time falling off my bike, falling out of trees and getting covered in mud while trying to save penalties – you know, all the things kids used to do that Health and Safety have decided are far too hazardous these days. I even used to play conkers without needing a safety net, goggles and full hazmat suit while standing in a concrete underground bunker three miles from my opponent - sorry, fellow competitor.
Then the world tapped me on the shoulder and said, “You can't make a living doing that, do something 'useful' instead.” Actually, I think it was my careers adviser at school who said that and probably from the other side of a big desk, while feigning interest in what he was actually saying. The stifled yawn was a bit of a giveaway.
So, off I went into the world of 'proper jobs' and spent the next couple of millennia (or so it felt) discovering the joys of earning money, spending it unwisely and accumulating a portfolio of bills as society expects. I was in at the start of the home computer evolution, watched as the nanny state overcame common sense, and shook my head in disbelief as 'fashion' and 'style' regularly took a holiday leaving people unsupervised and vulnerable to 'trends' or 'celebs'. I still break out in a cold sweat when I see pictures of myself from the 1970s.
Then, about 2006, I went to a craft show at the NEC in Birmingham, looking for something that didn't involve logic, commuting and arguing over first pick on next year's holiday rota. Armed with my extensive knowledge of pencil usage, I discovered the pastel pencil art of Colin Bradley and rekindled my enjoyment of scribbling on paper. Once I discovered that some of those scribbles actually made pictures (if you squinted a bit, held it at arm's length and didn't try too hard to work out what it was supposed to be), I never looked back – well, except for checking the blind spot when pulling out of course. The rest, as they say, is… still ongoing actually.
As for the name of the company, well, that was one of the (many) nicknames of my late, lamented cat, Molly. It's the one she usually got in autumn when she'd been out amongst the leaf litter. She had a nice line in wearing bits of twig, leaf and grass when she came back in, which she would proceed to divest herself of all over the kitchen floor while waiting for a bowl of tuna. Cat fashion took holidays too, it seems! Sadly, I lost Molly to old age in 2016, but she's still here to say Hi in the site's favicon.
Growing up, I quickly learned which end of the pencil was supposed to go on the paper (it's the pointy bit; who says you can't learn from the net?) and spent a lot of time drawing reasonable approximations of cartoon characters like Bugs Bunny, Donald and Daffy Duck and my great favourite, Wile E. Coyote. I also spent a lot of time falling off my bike, falling out of trees and getting covered in mud while trying to save penalties – you know, all the things kids used to do that Health and Safety have decided are far too hazardous these days. I even used to play conkers without needing a safety net, goggles and full hazmat suit while standing in a concrete underground bunker three miles from my opponent - sorry, fellow competitor.
Then the world tapped me on the shoulder and said, “You can't make a living doing that, do something 'useful' instead.” Actually, I think it was my careers adviser at school who said that and probably from the other side of a big desk, while feigning interest in what he was actually saying. The stifled yawn was a bit of a giveaway.
So, off I went into the world of 'proper jobs' and spent the next couple of millennia (or so it felt) discovering the joys of earning money, spending it unwisely and accumulating a portfolio of bills as society expects. I was in at the start of the home computer evolution, watched as the nanny state overcame common sense, and shook my head in disbelief as 'fashion' and 'style' regularly took a holiday leaving people unsupervised and vulnerable to 'trends' or 'celebs'. I still break out in a cold sweat when I see pictures of myself from the 1970s.
Then, about 2006, I went to a craft show at the NEC in Birmingham, looking for something that didn't involve logic, commuting and arguing over first pick on next year's holiday rota. Armed with my extensive knowledge of pencil usage, I discovered the pastel pencil art of Colin Bradley and rekindled my enjoyment of scribbling on paper. Once I discovered that some of those scribbles actually made pictures (if you squinted a bit, held it at arm's length and didn't try too hard to work out what it was supposed to be), I never looked back – well, except for checking the blind spot when pulling out of course. The rest, as they say, is… still ongoing actually.
As for the name of the company, well, that was one of the (many) nicknames of my late, lamented cat, Molly. It's the one she usually got in autumn when she'd been out amongst the leaf litter. She had a nice line in wearing bits of twig, leaf and grass when she came back in, which she would proceed to divest herself of all over the kitchen floor while waiting for a bowl of tuna. Cat fashion took holidays too, it seems! Sadly, I lost Molly to old age in 2016, but she's still here to say Hi in the site's favicon.