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Dick Want: Cloud-walker

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Meet Dick Want – artist,  sculptor, engineer and craftsman. I’ve known Dick’s work for a good few years now and have been lucky enough to exhibit alongside him at two group exhibitions in Kent. Here he is talking about his art. Enjoy.


When, as a mature student, Dick Want studied for his Masters in Fine Art, at the University for the Creative Arts (UCA) Canterbury in Kent , his dissertation was titled The Nefelibata Diaries. Nefelibata, he explains, is a Portuguese word meaning ‘cloud-walker’.

Dick Want: Spiritual self-portrait No. 11
Dick Want: Spiritual self-portrait No. 11

According to the dictionary, a cloud-walker is a person who lives in the clouds of their own imagination or dreams – someone who doesn’t abide by the rules. And, in many ways, that description fits Dick very well.

Dick has lived with poor mental health since he was a child, although his condition wasn’t diagnosed until he was 42.  He explains that his mental state dictates the art he creates and the way he works.

Dick Want: Rod for my Back 1
Dick Want: Rod for my Back 1

‘I produce art exactly as my heart tells me to, to express my moods at the time – I’m never in the same place two days running,’ he says. ‘I’m on this roller-coaster in my mind, and when I’m trying to control it, I channel it into making things.  When I start on a canvas, there is an intensity to it.  I’m literally locked in my house and I do nothing else for two or three weeks, which means the rest of my life goes to shit!’

Dick grew up in Romney Marsh, which straddles the Kent and East Sussex borders. As a child, he spent many days on the Marsh, birdwatching with his parents. And he still loves it there.

‘It’s one hundred square miles of flat land surrounded by the Downs and the coast and it sticks out into the English Channel, which gives it its own little microclimate,’ Dick explains. ‘Because it is so sparsely populated, the ground light is fantastic and because the land mass has nothing on it, you get a big sky, which is always a good thing as a painter.’

Dick Want: Militay Road, Appledore
Dick Want: Militay Road, Appledore

Dick grew up in an artisan household. His father was a joiner, who later went into teaching and then became a Methodist minister. His mother, Mary Want, was well-known locally as a watercolourist.

Dick inherited his dad’s technical ability. By the time he was 10 he was working with wood and taking bicycles to bits and rebuilding them.  He also inherited his mother’s talent and passion to make art.  Dick remembers her as ‘a free spirit trapped in a theological world’.

‘She was like the quintessential vicar’s wife, but mad as a box of frogs for her painting at the same time,’ Dick recalls. ‘I can remember coming home from school and there’s mum sitting in the flowerbed outside the kitchen painting the flowers. And I walk through the kitchen and the frying pan’s on the cooker blazing away.’

‘Mum somehow juggled domestic life with an intense urge to make art,’ he continues.’ And I grew up seeing this intense urge and understood it somehow.’

Fat Freddie's Cat 85
Fat Freddie’s Cat 85

The combination of Dick’s undiagnosed mental health issues and being contantly ‘at loggerheads’ with his father about his strict religious upbringing came to  a head in his early teens.

‘I went pop when I was about 14 and I didn’t land again until 2001,’ he says. ‘The 70’s, 80’s and 90’s were taken up with doing just exactly what I pleased. It was an extremely rebellious period in my life. I didn’t have a clue what was going on. Instead, I’d self-medicate.  If I was climbing the walls, I’d just get drunk. It wasn’t until I crashed completely that I found out what the problem was.’

Motorcycles and tattoos
 When he left school, Dick started work as an apprentice engineer.  In 1982, he got a job as a precision engineer making components for Speedway and Grasstrack motorcycles at Godden Engineering.  It was a dream job for Dick who, by that time, was building his own motorcycles.  He still rides Fat Freddie’s Cat, which he built in 1985 and he now also owns a Harley Davidson Dyna Glide.

Dick Want: Kate
Dick Want: Kate

‘My bike building really took off while I was at Godden’s and I built some really special motorcycles,’ Dick says. ‘It was purely self-indulgent – they were bikes for me to ride – but they were also an artform. I was mixing aesthetics and engineering, making something that was pleasing to the eye and also engineeringly functional. It was a form of self-expression at the time.’

After building bikes during the day, Dick spent his evenings working on his  surrealistic paintings.

An interest in pen drawing eventually led to a new career as a tattoo artist. Between 1984 and 2001, Dick had two successful tattoo studios in the Medway Towns. He made his own tattoo machines, drew his own design books and, for nearly twenty years, worked freehand, drawing directly onto customers’ skin from mental images.

‘At  that time, tattooing was a complete sub-culture, a kind of anti-fashion,’ Dick explains. ‘I got into tattooing as way of saying yah boo to the system. I liked the mixture of technical drawing with engineering. I am intensely organised and I liked the discipline of what you were working with. You couldn’t make mistakes. ‘

But as tattoos became more fashionable, Dick became disillusioned.

‘When people started coming in asking for copies of David Beckham’s tattoos, I thought it’s my time to get out,’ Dick says. ‘It had all become about media and fashion and that’s not really what I got into the business for. Also, it was very intense. People put a lot of trust in me and, in 2001, after 20 years of tattooing I had quite a big mental breakdown.’

Dick had been seeing a psychiatrist for several years but it was not until this point that he received a diagnosis and it came as a relief.

‘Actually having someone say, “I’ll tell you what your problem is” was really refreshing because I didn’t think anybody would believe what was going on in my head at the time,’ Dick reflects. ‘Giving it a name means you’re not such an oddball. Someone actually recognises the trauma you’re going through.’

Dick Want: Reclining Nude
Dick Want: Reclining Nude

The academic years
As part of his rehabilitation following his breakdown, mental health services enrolled Dick on an Art Foundation Course at UCA Canterbury. One of the tutors there had a profound influence on the direction of Dick’s art.

‘He was really into his art history and he took us right back, touching on all the major art movements and showed us a different world,’ Dick remembers.

In response to this new knowledge, Dick started painting his way through art history.

‘I fell in love with Georges Braque’s cubist phase,’ he says. ‘His artwork was so sensitive and I wanted to paint like that. I loved the fractured images. Breaking up images with geometric shapes is all the stuff that is going on in my head all the time. I have to vent it somehow and it comes out on my canvas.

Dick Want: The Empty Chair
Dick Want: The Empty Chair

‘I looked at Suprematism – Malevitch’s Black Square and that era of Eastern Bloc art. Then I met Kandinsky who introduced me to using my colour palette to express myself and that brought out some geometric abstract paintings.’

But Dick’s first encounter with the university system was bruising. The surrealistic pictures that he had been painting over the previous 15 years were shunned as ‘too established’.

‘I think I did the surrealist thing too well,’ Dick reflects. ‘There was nothing they could pull apart. They couldn’t use their normal destroy-somebody’s-dream-and-then-build-them-up-to-something-else technique, which is what I felt the university system was about.’

Dick Want: Automatic drawing
Dick Want: Automatic drawing

Undeterred, for his final dissertation, Dick  focused on the work of  French surrealist  André Masson. The thesis, called ‘I am thy Labyrinth‘: An analysis of Self as a Surrealist Subject (2011) explored the labyrithine qualities of the human mind. Dick’s subsequent artistic practice has been profoundly influenced by what he learnt.

‘All my artistic practice is autobiographical,’ Dick says. ‘You can’t do anything without ‘the self’ interpreting it. The surrealist self is really your absolute innermost emotions that are totally unguided or uninfluenced by anything else around you. It’s a very hard place to achieve.’

To help him to achieve this, like surrealists before him, Dick started to experiment with automatic drawing while listening to music.

‘You focus absolutely,’ he says. ‘So when I was drawing, I wasn’t thinking about my hands, I was thinking about the sound. It’s like drawing with your eyes shut. You are feeling the movement and the action. The outcome is not necessarily a drawing that makes sense to the eye, but there is invariably a rhythm that comes out on paper.’

Influenced by John Cage’s experimental composition 4′33″ , a ‘silent’ piece consisting only of the environmental sounds the audience hears while it is performed, Dick built a sound-sensitive drawing desk that could ‘record the sound a drawing makes’.  The desk used microphones to amplify the sound made as the pen moved over the paper, so that it could be recorded.

Through the work for his dissertation, Dick sought to draw parallels between the ephemeral nature of sound and the ephemeral nature of time. He sought to capture the time passing while a drawing was completed through recording the sound of the drawing process itself.

‘The ephemeral nature of sound means that, unless it is recorded, it vanishes with the passing of time and the only record of its passing are the things that came into existence during the seconds that have passed,’ he wrote in an ‘artist’s statement while at university. ‘With my sound drawings there are two possible automatic aspects. The first  is the drawing that should be made entirely without conscious thought, the second is the sound produced whilst making the drawing. The drawing becomes evidence of the ephemeral sound and, if recorded, the sound becomes a record of the time that has passed.’

Dick Want: Royal Military Canal, Hamstreet
Dick Want: Royal Military Canal, Hamstreet

After his first degree, Dick went on to complete a Masters degree in Fine Art, again at UCA.

‘I never thought of myself as academic but I hadn’t finished with the system,’ Dick explains. ‘When I finished my first degree, I felt so beaten up by the system that I wanted some time where I could enjoy studying art to the level that I’d discovered I was capable. I hadn’t got quite as far as I thought I could.’

But before he could get started, once again Dick’s work came in for some harsh criticism from his tutors.

‘I got slated again!’ he exclaims. ‘They said you’ve got to develop something that is your own. And I thought I can’t make it any more my own, so I went off and painted landscapes of Romney Marsh. I studied the Royal Military Canal. I started at Hythe and painted my way along it.’

During that two year period, as advised by his teachers, Dick developed his own personal painting process and style.

‘I went from the total abstract that I’d been painting in oils at the end of my degree to quite formal landscapes in acrylic,’ Dick explains. ‘I ended up out in the countryside with metre-and-a-half by metre canvasses, painting wild. It was great fun. I worked with a brush in one hand and an atomiser in the other, running the paint off the canvas.’

His Masters dissertation The Nefelibata Diaries, was about  capturing the point where reality meets abstract, meets surreality.

Once again, he linked the concepts of painting and time, contrasting the speed necessary to capture a good landscape in ever changing conditions with the time taken to complete a painting as indicated by the rate at which the paint alters as it moves down the canvas.

In 2014, Dick posted a series of images of The Fairfield Project, which illustrate the process he used to achieve that effect.

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Dick Want: Brompton Cocktail
Dick Want: Brompton Cocktail

Now free from the constraints of his undergraduate programme, Dick’s Masters project helped to reconnect him with his creative roots as an artist and a craftsman.

In contrast to a busy curriculum where the emphasis was on thinking and working quickly, painting the Royal Military Canal offered a complete change of mental pace.

Dick spent hours out on the Marsh on his motorcycle researching and recording images to inform his paintings.  A feature of his mental health condition is an inability to relax the intensity with which he scrutinises everything. For this project, Dick used it to his advantage and channelled it into his art.

‘I can’t paint an object without studying the detail,’  he explains. ‘The images I collect don’t get used in my paintings but they give my mind the information I need to be able to paint what I’m thinking. On the Masters course, I was left to my own devices to study my own worth, and it  was quite therapeutic. It taught me that it’s OK to spend time thinking about what you are producing. And it’s OK to be a craftsman and to really know your own skills and tools.’

Dick Want: Ode to the female form
Dick Want: Ode to the female form

A man of many talents
Now with his MA under his belt Dick is back in his home studio, using his skills and tools, painting, sculpting and carving wood. He describes himself as ‘a workaholic’.

‘I like working with my hands, and making stuff is really where I’m best,’ he says. ‘Engineering was great because it taught me things like welding, electrics, mechanical design, all of which you can apply to wood, building, sculpture, whatever you fancy working with. At the moment  I’m carving wood constantly.  I’m making some hop finials which are proving to be a much bigger job than I anticipated and take up every minute of spare time.’

Recently, Dick has also built a  mosaiced, six foot  cement  and brick sculpture in his garden, experimenting with the material until he achieved a consistency that he could work with a trowel like plaster, but which set like Portland Stone as he  built up the layers.

Dick Want: No Escape
Dick Want: No Escape

And he has returned to surrealistic art, painting intensively, once again using oils.

‘I’m enjoying the proximity with history, working with oils, and the traditional way of painting,’ he says.

Because of his mental health, Dick is reluctant to speculate about where his art might take him in the future.

‘I have to take each day as it comes because you can’t guarantee a run of anything in my world,’ he explains. ‘Because of my mental health, everything else I’ve done in life to do with families, relationships and dealing with the public in general has been a disaster. Making art and riding my motorbike everyday are the only things that really keep me going.  My art is almost like my umbrella and so long as that front door is locked, I can manage with making art. That’s where I am.’

Dick Want: Covid 19 Apothocre
Dick Want: Covid 19 Apothocre



If you would like to see more of Dick’s art you can follow him here:
Facebook: Richard Want Artist
Instagram: dick_want_artist

If you are interested in automatic drawing you might also like to revisit this blog from December 2019







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Glenn ‘Fitzy’ Fitzpatrick: Echoes of war

Fitzy: Gravesend

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Glenn ‘Fitzy’ Fitzpatrick grew up just along the road from me in Gravesend. He is now quite well known for his art. But if his name is not familiar to you yet, you may have seen his work, pretty much all of which is inspired in some way by his experiences as a trooper with the Queen’s Royal Irish Hussars during the first Gulf war in 1991.

I bought this map of Gravesend off him a while ago.



From Gravesend to the desert
Although Fitzy was noticed at school for his exceptional drawing skills, a career as an artist was nowhere on his radar at that time. Instead, at the age of 17, he left home and, like his father and other family members, joined the army. Seven months later he found himself on the way to Iraq after Kuwait was invaded by Saddam Hussein.


Fitzy’s outfit spent six months training in the desert before Operation Desert Storm kicked off. ‘By then we were so bored, we were desperate for some action,’ Fitzy remembers. ‘There was no TV, no local shops, you couldn’t do anything other than just embrace sand life.’

To pass the time, Fitzy started drawing little cartoons on the military hardware. ‘I started with a little motif of a desert rat with a samurai sword on the side of our tank,’ he says. ‘Senior ranks really liked it and asked if I’d mind drawing something on their tanks and before I knew it I was drawing on tanks and even missiles in exchange for sweets and cigarettes.’

One officer, impressed by Fitzy’s talent, asked him if he’d thought about going to Art School. He hadn’t, but it planted a seed in Fitzy’s mind.

The realities of war when they came – the fighting lasted for just four days – were devastating for Fitzy. Driving a converted tank, his job was to get casualties to safety. Among those casualties were friends and colleagues, killed and mutilated in the battle.

‘It was all too much for me,’ Fitzy explains. ‘I went into the war quite gung-ho, but I was just 18 and, apart from watching films, I’d never experienced anything like that.’

Fitzy: From ‘Arts and Mines ‘

But perhaps the most shocking and confusing aspects of the war for young Fitzy were his encounters with the enemy. He describes seeing two captured, badly injured Iraqi soldiers at an allied field hospital. They were holding on to each other, crying. And he was deeply affected by an encounter with an Iraqi man found in ‘a shocking state’, in the desert at the end of the war. The prisoner, terrified that he would be shot, offered Fitzy his watch in exchange for his life.

‘I could see such fear in him that it broke my heart,’ Fitzy recalls. ‘He wasn’t anything like what I expected my enemy to be like. It brought back my humanity. I thought, “My fight isn’t against you”.’


Fitzy fed the prisoner who, as he began to recover, introduced himself as Saddam. He asked if the war was over.

‘When I said “yes”, he put his fingers to his head in a gun-like gesture and asked if Saddam Hussein was dead,’ Fitzy remembers. ‘I was embarrassed to have to tell him “no” and to my surprise, Saddam began to cry. It made me realise that this man didn’t want to fight. He only ever wanted to be at home with his children.’

At the end of the first Gulf War, Kuwait was liberated but there was no push on to Baghdad to overthrow the government. Saddam Hussein, having surrendered, was allowed to remain in power. In Fitzy’s opinion, the war had been a failure because it had failed to stop a tyrant, and it played on his mind.

‘I have always believed, along with so many men out, there that we, as a peace-keeping force, should have removed the evil dictator,’ he says. ‘The time was perfect and we were close enough to Baghdad and ready for extraction. What was the point of liberating Kuwait and saying, “Off you go, don’t do it again Saddam” Did our leaders really think that, given time, he would be good to do business with?’

Fitzy: Anti-war sticker

Fitzy is now completely anti-war. He did not support the 2003 invasion of Iraq and joined in the mass protests in London in the run up to the attack on Baghdad.

‘I love the environment. I believe in equality and I’m absolutely sick of the wrong-doing that average people in this world are suffering at the hands of the few,’ he declares.

From soldier to art student
When Fitzy left the army, because of his experiences in Iraq, he found it really difficult to adjust to civilian life. He had nightmares, struggled with relationships and avoided talking about his experiences to his family and friends in case he upset them.

After drifting into a series of temporary jobs, including a spell tarmacking with gypsies in Spain, an old friend, now at Art School, persuaded Fitzy to come along to an open day. He loved it and that seed planted by the senior officer when Fitzy was drawing on tanks in the desert, began to germinate.

Now there was no stopping him. Fitzy signed up for an Art Foundation Course and then went on to study for a degree in fine art and then, finally, a Masters at the University for the Creative Arts (UCA) in Canterbury, Kent.

‘It ignited something in me that I’d been suppressing for a long time,’ Fitzy explains. ‘Somewhere deep down, I knew I was going to be an artist. I was just too afraid of it.’

He talks about his decision to become an artist as a kind of ‘coming out’. ‘It’s like it’s inside you, you can’t get it out and you can’t turn it down,’ he explains. ‘Even when you’re working full time you come home and you still want to do it. That’s when you know it’s never going to go away.’

Fitzy: From ‘Arts and Mines’

During his time at Art College, aged 27 now, Fitzy started experiencing blinding headaches. An MRI scan revealed a life-threatening cyst on the carotid artery under the base of his brain. The cyst was removed in a nine hour operation. He woke up with a new determination to make the most of his life and began to draw, documenting his illness in a series of frenetic black and white pen drawings.


From art student to …what?
After leaving the army, Art college had provided some welcome structure and security in Fitzy’s life. But when his studies were over, once again, he found it hard to adjust to daily life. He was drinking and the stress of the war, of major surgery and a badly broken leg acquired in a road accident began to affect his mental health.

‘I was no longer A1 fit and I felt that I would be a liability to any employer,’ Fitzy explains. ‘My self-esteem was at an all-time low. I felt very much alone. I’d lost touch with my army friends and everyone at art school had disappeared off home.’

It was time to seek help. Fitzy was offered professional counselling by a mental health charity for ex-servicemen Combat Stress ‘That place came to my rescue and even more so, the people and comrades that I met there,’ Fitzy recalls. ‘We were all on common ground and could laugh and cry at our experiences. Just knowing I had somewhere to turn in times of trouble gave me a fresh start and a light at the end of the tunnel.’

Fitzy: Book cover

Artist and author
In 2009, with a new commitment to pursue a life as an artist, Fitzy published a graphic novel Arts and Mines – Hell and beyond: A personal odyssey. It’s a great book, full of (true) anecdotes from Fitzy’s colourful and interesting life. One moment it’s funny and the next it’s tragic – a bit like army humour Fitzy says – and it’s illustrated throughout with Fitzy’s brilliant and insightful drawings, including those dark sketches he did while he was ill. Unfortunately the book is out of print at the moment, but I managed to get a copy second hand.

Fitzy says that working on the book enabled him to get his demons out. ‘It’s brought me closure,’ he explains. ‘I can leave this book in my past and I can run as far away from it as I choose.’

He is now working on a second graphic novel picking up his life story where the first one ended. There is a lot more to tell. ‘I never seem to have a normal life,’ Fitzy laughs.  But if you want to read it, you will have to wait for a bit. Fitzy expects it will be another five years until it is ready to be published.

Art as communication
Before the publication of Arts and Mines, Fitzy had struggled to express his experiences, feelings and opinions in words. The process of writing the book showed him the power of art to communicate, not only his own experiences but also to explore current issues, such as power, conflict, consumerism, and the environment, which have always interested him.

‘Through art, I found I had a louder voice but without words,’ Fitzy declares. ‘I could go straight in and give a visual account of the state of society. And I was able to reach out beyond myself. Even when I’m absent, when the art is on display, it’s still doing that communicating.’

Fitzy: Symbol of Society

One of his first works, a sculpture called Symbol of society, reflects Fitzy’s belief that many wars are motivated by oil. Exploring the analogy between sticking a bayonet into the enemy and sticking a pump nozzle into a car to refuel, Fitzy attached a knife to the end of a petrol pump, to make a ‘weapon. He fixed his Gulf War medal (‘I wasn’t proud of it’) to the top of the pump in place of the energy company logo. This piece became the first weapon in Fitzy’s ‘armoury’, a large body of military inspired work that has been central to his exhibitions.

Fitzy: Empty magazine


Through the armoury, Fitzy has been able to explore other issues that concern him. After the Charlie Hebdo magazine shootings in France in 2015, Fitzy added a machine gun sculpture made out of used pens, called The pen is mightier than the sword.

‘I thought, people are being killed by a bloody machine gun because of something they wrote,’ Fitzy exclaims. ‘I wanted to explore the line between freedom of speech and the freedom to offend.’

Fitzy: Legion


Gradually, over time, Fitzy’s armoury has increased. More recently, he has referenced environmental concerns, using discarded nitrous oxide canisters to make a series of knights’ helmets. All this, alongside numerous detailed drawings, mainly in black and white.

The Armoury Project came full circle for Fitzy, when he visited the armoury at the Wallace Collection in London for the first time.

‘It was breathtaking!’ he exclaims. ‘It solidified the armoury project for me. I realised that I had a contemporary version of what they had. I’ve got drawings and weapons too, but it’s all for art, not war.’


Send in the clowns
Recently, Fitzy has made the move from Canterbury up to London. ‘I just felt the need to kick myself up a gear, keep my brain running and add a bit of colour to my life,’ he says.

Apart from his book illustrations, most of Fitzy’s drawings have been in black and white. But his latest series, featuring clowns, are full of colour. They are inspired by a group of hairdressing clowns Tuttii Fruittii in Deptford, where Fitzy lives. If you’re interested, this video is a good watch

‘I was looking for a way to move on from black and white to colour and to incorporate everything I’d done before,’ Fitzy explains. ‘I got to know these girls and they’re quite inspirational. They liked my art and they had me do little drawings of them, in exchange for free haircuts!’

Fitzy: Boris Johnson

Although this new work looks very different from Fitzy’s previous art, he sees it as a progression. ‘It has allowed me to step outside the military genre and look at other things, but it is also part of a continuum,’ he explains. ’In part it’s a comment on the people running the country – I can pick on Boris Johnson quite easily. But it’s more than that. In the military we used to use camouflage cream, so this is more about the armour or camouflage that we all wear. We all have our own guises, our alter egos – make up, how we dress – and I wanted to explore how that changes our perceptions of each other.’

Now Fitzy is working up to an exhibition of his work, which will feature pieces from the armoury and his clowns. ‘You’ll be able to move from one end of the room and see a knife with a petrol pump, and then to the other end to see the clowns,’ Fitzy explains. ‘And it’s all threaded together, part of an elongated life narrative.’


Fitzy: Clown series

Certainly Fitzy has been through some dark times but he feels that things are looking up. ‘I’m in what I consider to be one of the brightest times of my life now,’ he says. ‘I’m finding people who wear their own armour and I think, “Wow that’s beautiful, can I paint that.” Yeah, that’s where I’m at.’

If you’d like to find out more about Fitzy’s art try here:
Instagram: glennfitzy
Facebook: Glenn Fitzy Fitzpatrick

Arts and Mines-  Hell and beyond: A personal odyssey was published by Aerocomm in 2009.

If you are quick you can see some examples of Fitzy’s work in an exhibition Delirium he is curating at the Ridley Road Social Club in Dalston, London E8.

It runs until 16th March 2020, Monday- Saturday 10am – 9pm.


















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Lions of Windsor and other animals

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After I came back from the Liberty factory in Milan in March I wrote in my blog, ‘I wondered where this journey will take me next’. Well one answer is possibly ‘Windsor’ and I certainly didn’t expect that!

A couple of weeks ago, I was contacted by award winning homeware designer, Lisa Todd, who is Director of this year’s Lions of Windsor project, to ask if I would be interested in decorating a life-size resin and fibre glass lion to be displayed somewhere around Windsor this summer. The original lion was created by Bath sculptor Alan Dun as a 3D canvas.

The project will involve a giant pride of over 60, individually decorated lion sculptures being positioned around the Royal Borough of Windsor and Maidenhead from 10th August until 27th October this year, to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the birth of Queen Victoria. There will be an official public art ‘safari trail’ where visitors can see the bigger lions, decorated by artists and designers, plus a mini-pride of lion cubs decorated by schools and charities.

The project will culminate in a Lions Roar Goodbye  festival (9th/10 November) and then a charity auction on 22nd November. All profits will be donated to local charities, including the new Thames Hospice in Maidenhead, Look Good Feel Better and the Lions Club of Windsor, for distributing to good causes across the region.

I haven’t really got much experience of 3D art or drawing (on) animals really. I did decorate this set of Russian Dolls in 2018 for ‘Art on a Postcard’ and I’ve done relief prints of a few cats, birds, water creatures and insects over the years (see below) but a 3-D lion is going to be a bit of a challenge. Not least because I have to get it home, paint it and then get it back to Windsor, without being eaten!

Russian dolls decorated for ‘Art on a Postcard’

As you might be aware, over the last year I’ve been working on a series of Small Town ink drawings. You can see then all in my Gallery under ‘Original Artwork: Ink Drawings’. They are all also available as digital prints. I submitted one of the Small Towns to the #LibertyOpenCall competition that I won and the two designs that Liberty have been produced are due to be launched next month as part of their Summer Collection. I’ve included elements of the Liberty Small Town design in my lion design because Liberty fabric designs were very popular in the Victorian era.

My lion design is called Night and Day  and depicts Windsor in daylight (on the side of the lion with his eye open) and Windsor at night (on the side of the lion with his eye closed). Each side will reflect Windsor’s position on the Thames, and will feature prominent landmarks, such as the castle and the Great Park. You might even spot some Windsor collars and ties with Windsor knots on the final product. I haven’t really decided.

Anyway, that’s for the future. I have to have my design accepted first. The templates are really small so what you can see here is only an impression. If I’m successful, the design on the final lion will be much more intricate.

Here is what I have submitted:

Front view
Windsor by day









And the other animals….. As mentioned above, here are some of my earlier encounters with animals. They’re all for sale via the Gallery on this website – just follow the links.

Cats (also Blue Cat)














Sea creatures