Spiritual path to 2009 and beyond, by A.Scot

1975 – just moved from London to NE Scotland or should I say, “was moved from London” as I was 5 at the time – Father’s into birds in a big way – befriended a large bird book and spend hours copying ‘birds of prey’ illustrations, especially the Osprey, one of my father’s favourites, an endangered bird with one of few nests in Britain at nearby Loch Morlich

1980 – moved back down south to Greenwich this time, soon followed by another move out to the suburbs of cricket, warm ale and Ted Heath – draw images of family members..and birds of course – can’t get enough of Peter Scott. Was he the one refused by the Tate for being an illustrator?

1987 – fortunate enough to have visited Mediteranean lands - totally captivated by the earthy hues, smells in the lazy warm evenings and varieties of cactus

1988 – accepted at Maidstone college of Art & Design having the odd 4 hour extended lunch-break in the pub (serious Art-talk)  painting at college well after the sun went down – tutor from Leeds was excellent in the non-grammar school way, adopting the more ‘get it fookin down or fook off to McDonalds for a job’ approach – walked to virtually all the smallest galleries in North London – couldn’t understand how 100% of fellow humans don’t devote at least 15 hours a day to Contemporary Fine ART – brief spell of wearing jogging bottoms & second hand blazers and to top it all off would jump into skips with the smug knowledge that anything touching my hand could find a new loved life in the Contemporary Art World – nearly destroy my father’s garage whilst practicing my Jackson Pollock swings

1989 – accepted at Birmingham college of Fine Art – start hitting numerous dead end streets bringing me back to earth with a bang after my Maidstone renaissance – best year with regards to learning life’s sure lesson that there’s no other way than back to the drawing-board 100 times as opposed to plodding along the ‘safe’ path. Others will see through it soon enough and you’ll end up hating yourself.. no escape

1990 – hate my art and suddenly respect all my fellow human beings for having nothing to do with this modern art nonsense – my place in the Art World has momentarily disappeared and the only thing to do is say ‘piss off’ to Arty Mike and earn 3 quid an hour at a plant nursery getting me on that plane to see The Mayaah –

Art – Science – Mathematics seem to start making sense -  getting my pastels busy in the Costa Rican rainforest, intermittently hacking away the undergrowth from Ornathologist trails, I start to get rid off the studio-claustrophobia rut – combined with a self-study programme in Antigua Guatemala, hitch-hike from Panama to Mexico via Copan, Tikal, Tulum, Chichen Itza, Uxmal and Palenque with the odd mellow evening thanks to the rainbow children

1991 – meanwhile Birmingham collage of Fine Art was experiencing a cabinet reshuffle, something to do with who’s shagging / blackmailing who, asking me “Who are you?” my year out agreement was greeted with shrugs and the question,” who’s this long lost traveller with little to show for himself other than a fluffy ginger beard?” I was unwilling to join Painting despite this being my real discipline. Fact was I had a thing about being a sculptor and that was that, “Sculpture or nothing” says I defiantly - “Bugger off” say they languidly – seems like the board had more on their minds than a middle class kid with his tent and fluffy beard doing the Maya thing

1992 - took a TEFL course and, courtesy of meeting Magda, off I go to the former Socialist Republic of Czechoslovakia, later the Federal Republic of Czechoslovakia, then the Czech Republic or as I like to call it, the Czechlands (countries with the words Republic and Democracy give me a shiver)

1996 - Martina and Zuzanna become my guardian angels steering this lone cyclist on the windy road to an honest life – painting takes a backseat ride meanwhile, that is until I do my Lance Armstrong trip landing me crippled for the best part of a year – this chapter of walking 10 yards only to grapple for something to stop me falling over gives me back a rekindled enthusiasm for painting, painting and painting

2002 - marriage to my Katerina simultaneously coinciding with the birth of Robbie George - my painting is flowing with splirts and splutters - get the odd show at the local pub and group show at galleries in Moravia

2005 - family is now a healthy 5 with boy #2, Danny James and Boris the boxer – accepted at UVUO ( Union of Olomouc’s professional fine artists ) and painting is my main occupation, usually taking place at night leaving me time during the daylight hours to go out and earn a crust as an english teacher – joint show participation at the union’s Gallery G, Podkova Gallery  and Calgary, Canada’s Triangle gallery

2009 – with having czech in one ear and english in the other at the dinner table, wouldn’t it be fun to have italian in the classroom and sicilian in the playground? Yep, you can’t choose your family (someone told me you can but that’s too spiritual for now) and our kids probably didn’t see it coming – painting like nothing on earth – what about the kids? They’re painting too, no other way.

2010 – is the Syracuse region of Sicily merely a chapter in our lives? Can’t say but this place is a painter junkie’s dream (not a junkie painter’s!) where the smell of terpentine is my constant companion