When I came to the conclusion that I would try to make a living from painting I decided I needed three things.

• Something to paint, that people would actually pay for.

• A garret where I could starve.

• An accountant who could tell me how much I was losing each week.

Early Days, 1980

I was 32 years old and had a young family to look after. Joan had started part time as a typist with the Probation Service, and I needed to bring in some money.

I knew I could do portraits well, so I set my stall out to offer this service to anyone who would like a painting of themselves at £25 a go. There was no social media so I relied on adverts in the local press (The Northern Echo) and, hopefully. word of mouth.

The first commissions were for dog paintings in oils, using photos supplied by the customer. This was fine for some but generally the photos were of poor quality, 

ME: Where is the dog?

CUSTOMER: Oh that’s him on the beach just behind that deckchair.

ME: Have you any better photos?

CUSTOMER: Not really he died a few weeks ago.

And that is how I started earning money, painting dead dogs. Nowadays our Lynn in the gallery knows to (vet) these photos,  I still paint the odd dog portrait but only if the photos are clear.

Gradually I did get commissions to paint people’s children and I bought a decent Polaroid camera to take my own photos. This went well until I received a commission to paint a family at a 40th wedding anniversary., 20 plus people and I had to take photos of them all individually then produce a painting of them all in a group. When I presented the painting it was general well received apart from the odd comment, “Well you all look ok but my teeth don’t look right”.  ” I’m not really that plump am I”  

The women were ok with how they looked though.

Painting Icons

I did get many commissions though to paint famous people (we call them celebrities nowadays) such as Starsky and Hutch and The Beatles.

A lady asked me to paint a few of Elvis for a room in her house. When I took the paintings I was amazed at her Elvis room, the whole walls were adorned with posters from his films and memorabilia on every chair and shelf. I could have probably earned a living just painting Elvis for her.

The garret was actually my son’s old bedroom which still is my studio where I paint and hide away from the telly. I would like to expand into one of the other bedrooms but somehow Joan doesn’t seem that Au Fait with the idea.

I found a good accountant and he did tell me how much money I was losing every year until he retired depressed, and I now look after my own accounts, and lie about how much I am losing. Actually my accountant became a member of my art classes when he retired.