I’d had an accident – I was knocked off my bike on the way to work. The driver, simply took their eye off the ball – didn’t see me – hit me from the side. Apparently, I flew through the air with the greatest of ease – broke my arm when I hit the deck – I don’t really remember much.
Amazingly, the only witness was a Police officer who said I was blameless – I subsequently got a few quid in compensation and it started the ball rolling…. Gave me time to reassess. To think about where I was going with my life.
I had no qualifications to speak of. I was married with 2 kids. Living in a Council house and doing the same crappy jobs with no future that I’d done since I was 15. Manual labour exclusively. Paid an hourly rate only – salary was some crunchy green stick thingy, which was occasionally eaten with salad.
Other than playing guitar in bands – which I’d come to the end of…I thought, realistically – is there something I could do? Anything?
In my heart – I reckoned the only thing that might be worthwhile – in the long run….was my art.
Nearly every fair-sized town in those days had an art school.
I wandered into mine – arm in plaster – and inquired about applying….
They said: have you got a portfolio….. some examples of your work?
Sure – I can get some stuff together….
Jolly good – bring it in next Saturday at midday….looking forward to seeing you.