My Creativity Journey
I have a very weird early memory and I am pretty sure that I haven't fallen prey to effects of the false memory syndrome here. I can remember standing in the playground looking at a small brown bird, probably a house sparrow, and in the memory I think to myself I can draw that, somehow I knew I had the capacity to capture the likeness of this small feathered thing that was pecking away at something on the playground tarmac.
However, what ever that moment in that school playground all those years ago might have presaged, I did not actively reach for a pencil with which to draw on my own volition until I was about 21. Even art at school never even amounted to an O-level, I was not deemed to have any talent in this area and I couldn't see the point of it as I was too involved in playing sport.
Having left school, I had dabbled in writing teenage poetry during my late teens, even making contact with the student poetry society after landing at Sheffield University. Perhaps here began or precisely the first iteration of a capacity within me to express myself through writing. I did take it seriously until, strangely, I was counselled to throw it all away by a pastor who judged it to not be particularly helpful for me and my ongoing faith journey. Reflecting upon this now, not sure what that was all about. Anyway I will be returning to my writing later, bet you can not wait.
After my time at University I did not have too many options and so drawing became a thing, as demonstrated by the sketch of a fake well in my parent's garden that my Dad bizarrely built to commemorate the wedding of Charles and Di in 1981. This time of sketching was the beginning of me developing an idea that I wanted to be creative and that creativity such as this would be a part of my identity. Clearly, at this time , having flunked my degree and left my faith, I had little else to be proud of, apart from that is my lovely long hair and faux hippy lifestyle.
Girlfriends came and went no doubt due in no small part to me being the role model for the least read Mr Men story, Mr Moody. I was not a very happy chappy and I was drifting. One girlfriend decided to drift with me for a while and we ended up living in a commune near Cambridge, this lasted all of 3 months. Whilst here I did create a series of simple watercolours that I exhibited as part of a craft fair in the local village hall. Not surprisingly I didn't sell any off them. I was disappointed because back In Sheffield I had had my first sale when the chairman of the local legalise cannabis society bought my version of the 'hookah smoking caterpillar' from Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland, or is it Through the Looking Glass?. At this time I had also attempted painting portraits of my parents and my sister from photos. The picture of my dad was ok, but the other two were awful, but families are usually merciful and grateful-although these paintings for some reason never ended up on a wall-I wonder why?
Having been asked to leave this particularly middle class commune, I ended up living on the fifth floor of a Midlands high-rise in Lichfield instead, quite a shift. Notice the I, yet another girlfriend had departed. However, here I was living with quite a talented artist and my own art really started to develop in these few months in Lichfield. I began to experiment with oils and to do more figurative work and influenced by the music I was listening to at this time. This time also ended with an exhibition where I did sell a painting of , I think it was, Jimi Hendrix.
At this point I believe that it would be good to interrupt this riveting autobiography to explore creativity and the creative individual from my perspective. At this moment in my story I am on the cusp of a very significant moment. Indeed, a moment within which both journeys come together. I was now 25 and my creativity such as it was had developed at a time in my life when I was not at my best, trying to find myself, man, in the hippified world of D, S and RnR. My paintings reflected this as they were full dark colours and even darker images. At this moment, as I sat on the station at Gatwick airport having spent day pretending to work on the new north terminal, I came home to my God and my faith. And from this moment when I returned to my painting I found this now reflected this new me. A new colour scheme exploring and expressing my new self and reality. Therefore, when we do look and enjoy any artform, know that what you are consuming is not only the work but something of the person who has produced it as well. Very deep.
Before moving up to Morecambe in 1984, I painted at home selling a picture of Geese to my uncle and giving a picture of the crucified Jesus to someone who was important in my restoration at this time as a kind of wedding present. I know it does sound like a weird wedding present- he liked it what can I say? This was the wedding where I met my wife. Indeed, my life at this time was full of these moments of grace filled serendipity.
Having made the move to deepest, darkest north west of England this continued, such as when 'out of the blue' I was offered the opportunity to help to run a newly established Gallery cum picture framing business. After what seemed like half an hours training I was a picture framer, and I stayed one for the next 15 years or so. I seem to remember vthat this came out of a connection in church world. A couple of guys from a church with which our pastor was connected needed someone local to fill gaps for them. I ended up pretty much running this full time and sadly it was a bit of struggle and within a year or so they decided that enough was enough. However, they did leave me all the picture framing gear and so I set off down the road to becoming a very poor (literally) local business man. The good news was that my life was now rooted firmly in the world of art and artistic endeavour.
I set up my picture framing equipment in a variety of places, including my garden shed, offering a visiting picture framing service. At this time, I stumbled on an advert for a picture framer to help out at a gallery in Lancaster, I applied and I got the job. This was the mid to late eighties and I stayed working for Mike for the next ten years or so, latterly on a part time basis as I by then had opened my own little gallery in Morecambe in 1994.
It was always a struggle financially, but in this decade my own art developed significantly and I was selling work(occasionally) for between £100 and £200 pounds. I was painting predominantly in watercolours and my subject matter was largely local scenes, wildlife and painting pet portraits on commission. The gallery survived for about 4 years. I used to go back in the evening to continue framing customers' work. On this particular evening I arrived just as my gallery was being burgled. I opened the front door to find the walls empty and all the paintings had been bagged up in bin liners. I heard scuffled out the back and went out but there was no one there. On returning to the gallery there was a man standing there, strangely not wearing anything on his feet. He said he had heard the commotion-I am not sure there had been much of commotion- and that he had come in to see what was going on. I reassured him that everything was ok and he left. I later found his boots. Anyway, I reported the break in to the police and they gave me a crime number, but did not think it worth actually investigating the scene. I told them that it looked like the burglers had come over the back wall. and that was that. That is until I read a report of the incident in the local newspaper where the police informed the community that access has been made from the back of the property thereby informing anyone who might be interested to have another go at robbing this particular gallery it would be possible to get in from the back-thanks for that.
In church world by the mid 90's I was running what was called a 'seeker service.' This was a type of evangelistic meeting that involved themed short drama sketches. The idea was to entertain people into the kingdom of God, nothing new here (miaow). Myself and a friend (Mik) in church largely wrote and performed these dramatic interludes. SWE thought this was going well and we even travelled with it to other places including the Aughton Pudding festival of all places ( turn to the faith journey for a chilling reflection about this event). I mention this here because I was writing now for the first time since the poetry.
In 1998 I went to Bible college and was able to pass my degree in Theology, and in 1999/2000 I started my teaching career at the ripe old age of 40. To cut a long story short I began teaching in a FE college for students with learning and physical disabilities. I was able to take over the role from my predecessor who was very outdoorsie and I was happy to follow his direction of educational travel taking students out and about in nature. The college in the noughties had slight change of direction as it reinvented itself as a college that would now focus more upon the creative arts. The question I then had to answer was how I could morph my teaching practise to fit this new programme. Fortunately the answer was not too hard to find. The was and is a thing called Environmental or Land Art. Following in the footsteps of artists such as Andy Goldsworthy and David Nash that form of creativity was all about using the natural world, leaves, twigs and stones as the medium. This worked perfectly for me and this also opened up for me a new way to also be creative in my own right which I enjoy to this day. I never miss an opportunity to make stone towers on the beach or by the river.
This also lead for me to begin an MA in creative education, the first extended module of which was write of reflective piece about myself as a creative practitioner and which ended with a exhibition of my work. For this I took photos of my work such as a cowpat that I had adorned with dandelion flowers. In the centre of the space I created an installation of branches and twigs that I had found in the grounds of the university that explored the idea of balance. Sadly, the course was cut before I could complete it.
At this time, I was also given the opportunity to attend an eight week course at the Tate Gallery in Liverpool called Opening Doors. This set up to encourage educators and people focused professionals to develop an understanding of how they might use art and an art gallery as a therapy/learning tool or space. Each week we were shown how different practitioners use art and the gallery within their own discipline. These included individuals from social services, mental health services, the probation service, and also artists came in to share how they use their art to explore important ideas such as slavery and racism. I enjoyed using some the ideas that came out of this course with my own family when visiting an art gallery, simple ideas such as telling everyone to explore the space and find a work that speak to about love or joy, and then share this with us. Indeed, I did use this technique with my students who were on the autistic spectrum as a separate MA level project and this was very well received at the time.
In 2012 the Lord moved me outside of the formal church structure, he took me to none side for a season. And what happened was that he put into my heart the idea to start writing. This I began to do when he woke me with a strange phrase, the tabernacle of David. And over the last ten years or so this has been my creative focus, it has ended up with five books on this particular theme and two others that are focused slightly differently. The first six of which are available to download through this website if you interested, the last one will be following shortly.
I found that I really enjoyed the process of writing. I simply sit at my laptop and let what is in me come out. The word of God has been rich in my life and as I sit it is a communion between Father, me and his word within me. I am aware that we all see through the glass darkly and so I am happy to be challenged and corrected when things go awry. However, I don't believe that I am banging a drum for anything other that we might break free from religion and the all prevailing 'churchianity' (see Bonhoeffer) and 'worshipannity' (see me)and find the bride.
...for ye are the temple of the living God; as God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk in them; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people.
Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you,
And will be a Father unto you, and ye shall be my sons and daughters, saith the Lord Almighty.
Having therefore these promises, dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of God. 2 Corinthians 6:17a-7:1
Again, I found myself in a world of Grace filled serendipity at this time. As one morning I was sitting next to Maurice and Joanna Barratt on a very early flight to Brussels. These people have become dear ,and at times challenging, friends. Their media ministry out of Manchester helped me find my perspective during this wilderness season and Maurice of late has been so helpful in showing me how to turn the writing into books and eBooks. They also hold their own meetings and its was during bone of these that an American lady, who I did not know, accosted me as I was leaving and said she one word for me. I said thanks and asked what the word was and she said 'write' and I asked her 'and how are you spelling that?' God is good!
I have painted throughout these years off and on, when the need grabbed me. And since retiring in September 2025 creativity such as painting, as well as working with wood and the writing have now become what I do. And hopefully, this website is an effective vessel through which this creativity might be carried, shared and enjoyed.
Many thanks and blessings in Christ
Richard
For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them. Ephesians 2:10