A light goes out...

...but we'll always leave a light on for you.

Hi again everyone. Hello to some new folks who’ve joined in my absence. It’s been a while. It’s been hard to know what to write these past few months…

Lets talk about the Elephant in the room…

Should I describe him as that? OK, maybe not. We should probably mention the Gorilla in the corner. No, wait, that’s worse!!!

OK. Before I write any more long form content - and before I can get back to the business of boring you all with endless paintbrush chat - I wanted, no, needed to talk about a particular someone, who was a massive supporter of my work here (in fact he was the first person to sign up to my substack and become a founding member, mostly because he “wanted a painting of my niece and you’re bloody well not gonna do it otherwise”) - my Big Brother. The only Big Brother worth mentioning.

You see, he died quite unexpectedly in February.

My Big Brother, Christian: sarcastic and silly, sweet and kind hearted, generous and funny. All the superlatives. He was 10 years older than me, so my first memories of him as a teen is all New Romantic haircuts, baggy jumpers, double-denim and boy racer cars. In adult life, he moved over to Modwear bomber jackets and Fred Perry t-shirts, and always kept to this uniform (rarely deviating to a smart shirt on very special occassions). Those who knew him, saw he mastered many adversities in his life - to those who don’t, know that he dealt with a lot, but never lost his droll sense of humour. My brother, who loved all the ‘boy’ stuff - watching football, fast cars, action movies, computer games, but also nature, books, hanging out with his family and playing board games - he was a staunch supporter of his friends, adored his family (his niece was his absolute favourite human) and was an absolute champion of mine, who gurned and grinned and sat wearing ridiculous props all for the name of art (and for food, lets not forget his payment!)

This guy - Such a dude! Love that grin.

The last piece of long-form writing I did was a eulogy at his funeral. Those words and these will never be enough. I want to write so much more - but my words can’t and don’t really encapsulate what this human meant to me for 45 years. They’re too brief - they say nothing.

So much of memory is forgotten, or replaced by the minutiae of everyday life, or rather just condensed into feeling - and that feeling, that ease of being around a human who I knew and loved and trusted and teased and coerced into being my model on many occasions, has left a big space in my life.

This absolute gem from some years ago, and yep, I made him sit and wear that ruff for four hours (see below), and the expression says it all…I captured the hair perfectly though…

Sorry, not sorry. The things you did in the name of my art. I mean…you just had that sort of face ;)

I’m sorry I can’t tease him with these embarrassing pictures (and so many more). That’s not to say my other family members will get off so lightly…my sis (who has worked so hard in dealing with the practicalities these past few months, like the superstar that she is) I’m looking at you - although the paintings she has sat for are far less ignominious…

So as life trundles on, with great aplomb and a fair bit of sunshine, it is different. The candle flickers and the light changes. It’s shifting and oscillating in the happy and sad. But it is beautiful, and all the better for having had the coolest brother in my life. And I know he would’ve been haranguing me about my blog…"Where the hell is my next newsletter that I’m paying for?”

Sorry bruv, just took me a while. Love ya.