Just like I always dreamed, for most of my adult life, I have been a
I've never forgotten this brief chapter of my life. The ideas, creativity and intellectual arguments fomented in that cold dusty attic studio still influence the person I am today. What I had forgotten was the artwork I actually produced during that time. That was until a recent visit to my father's house.
Understandably fed up with storing my junk for years on end, my father politely suggested that I take home what I wanted and he would skip the rest. I found some great stuff. Charlie seemed particularly pleased when I pulled out my old Jim Harley squier standard Stratocaster copy with the Jackson pickups and vintage Wah-Wah pedal:
"Do you have an amp for it?" she asked, tentatively, obviously keen to hear me shred.
"I lent it to someone in 2001 and never got it back," I replied.
"Oh. That's a shame!"
As if my old Jim Harley Strat wasn't prize enough, in amongst some dusty papers I found some of the canvasses from my days in the Granary.
|Alien in a Hoody|