my london 1990

                                                     My London, 1990

I was studying art in London, in 1990, but feeling a little disappointed with my life. I happened to see a picture in the newspaper, of a man, banging a bodhrain;, a hand held ancient Irish drum !

It had an old Celtic symbol on it and I knew right then, that was what I was looking for. I made a subconscious note to find out more about it.

The art and inspiration, in London , for me at this point had dried up. Hip Hop and rap dominated popular culture. I felt as if there was nothing but an empty box of packaging and crassness, to being 'Down with my homies !'

But living in London, had taught me to stand on my own two feet ! To live and cook healthy meals and to keep fit. African or Afro-American culture was very prevalent. The band 'Soul II Soul', could be found at the nightclub 'The Fridge' in Brixton most weekends. White trainers out placed the black Dr Martin shoes.

It was very trendy, to be fit in the capital, and so I attended a lot of dance classes; contemporary, modern, jazz, Latin, in community centres. Installation art was seen as the pinnacle of art expression.

I read the writer 'Alice Walker' voraciously. 'The Colour Purple' and 'Living by the Word'.

I once queued up outside 'The Africa Centre' to see her in person, but there were too many people out there, in the crowd to wait.

To keep trim, I used to buy oyster mushrooms and lychees, from Croydon street market. I'd cook them at home, with garlic, soy sauce and rice. I lived in South London, in Norwood, close to Gypsy Hill and Crystal Palace. I also lived in North London, in Muswell Hill. Here I once found an original publication of Jim Morrison ( The Doors) poetry books.

I read Oscar Wilde’s 'Dorien Grey' I worked in 'The Young Unknowns' art gallery in Waterloo. I saw Ella Fitzgerald, live at The Royal Albert Hall, shortly before she died. I'd often visit 'The Victoria and Albert Museum' on the south Kensington tube stop.

I also read Victoria Woolf and Sylvia Plaths 'The Bell jar'. I met Paula Rego, the very popular Portuguese artist. I had a good friend called Jill Salmon.

She would wear men's suits and drink out of a bottle of wine, quite occasionally !

She had a big heart, an infectious laugh and great sense of fun ! She also used to live in squats. She squatted many empty buildings, from rough tenement houses in the Elephant and Castle, to empty playboy mansions in Hampstead Heath.

When she squatted a council flat, in Peckham, I would travel all the way down, from North London

on a Saturday afternoon, to see her. We would go for a meal of pork belly, mash, cabbage and gravy in a n indoor cafe at Peckham's market.

I never got to try, jellied eels, in the pie and mash shops on the Old Kent Road though I think I had a pie, which they said 'wasn't horse meat !' I'd often go out all day and sit in various cafes, you could smoke in them then. So I'd sit all day long , with a fag and a cup of tea, writing poems in my notebook.

Art College, in London, attracted people from all over the UK and abroad. It was a great mixing ground for so many ideas and melting pot of cultures and backgrounds. In fact it was difficult to find genuine Londoners, as they seemed to blend into the background, instead of wanting to stand out. The Londoners I did meet, were black or half Asian, and because the music so heavily influenced my thinking, I was drawn to them. But I fell flat trying to express myself through it,

because it wasn't really my culture, I just sympathised with it.

And I soon felt hallow, as if I'd burnt myself out. I couldn't keep up with the pace and needed rest.

Although I didn’t realise the importance of rest at this time. I'd work like crazy until it made me ill. Then I'd wonder why I was feeling ill.

I didn't realise that I needed a rest and a life outside of the whirly burly of fashionable art college. I needed a home, security, routine, peace of mind. I wasn't getting this, just through myself into art exhibition after art exhibition, while trying to support myself, going to job interview after job interview.

I hated work outside of art college. I had no means of supporting myself, and so I had to work to pay, rent, bills, food, travel costs, art equipment. I didn't lead an extravagant life of wine bars and going out. The pinnacle or jewel in the crown of my existence, was making art.

It was all Work! Work! Work! And of course this led to breakdowns, numerous ones – in public, in private, on buses, in strange places. And all due to an excess of work.

No holiday, no break, no rest. I didn't think it through. I didn't have a strategy or game plan, just through myself at it, time after time. And still do to this day.

Though now I realise, the importance of relaxation and rest. Probably because my body and mind tell me of it. Demand it ! When I am tired or stressed out, I lock myself away, cocoon myself for a while until I am better.

Though I'm sure my vocation is to be an artist, I still wonder what it would be like in other walks of life. But rest, sleep, downtime are important to everyone.

So don't knock it when someone tells you they want to get away. They are only doing, what their bodies tell them.