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"The person in the family that I saw the least of was my Dad. I guess this was the case in most families back in the day as practically all our dads had jobs. When we got up in the morning to go to school they had long since departed to go to whatever employment they were engaged in. Looking back, the few times that we spent together were very precious to me for the years go past too quickly. Times change, circumstances alter and before you know it you are an adult yourself with your own set of challenges to deal with. Memories resurface like snapshots in an old photo album, like hanging on to his hair as carried me on his shoulders back home from grannie's house. He would pretend to loose his balance, having me believe I was going to be dropped into a neighbour's garden. He would also perch me on the crossbar of his bike, holding on to the saddle as I held on to the handle bars thinking I was in full control even though my legs barely touched the peddles. All too quickly time passes and the big burly man you remember as your dad turns sadly to an image of an old man struggling to breathe. His death was a kind release from his suffering from a long illness and for me turned into one of the most challenging times of my life. After a complete mental and physical breakdown I emerged from it a stronger individual and was able to master my grief by means of my art. I used all the memories that had be given to me in that small family unit in that equally small village of Springside, turning what I remembered into paintings of a bygone and happier era. So thank you Dad for all that you gave to me, whether you realised it or not, I will cherish all the memories all the days of my life. If my paintings make you the viewer feel the same way about your own personal history then it makes me doubly glad. So I raise a glass to you dad, Cheers!" Boutique, Framed, Signed Limited Edition

Every year my father would take us to Glen Lyon. This is where he spent the happiest time of his life, living with his grandmother in a small whitewashed cottage with green wooden shutters that had heart shaped holes cut out in them. Before travelling into the glen, we stopped at Aberfeldy, a picturesque town where the poet Robert Burns wrote his song “The Birks Of Aberfeldy” and where Dewar’s whiskey is distilled. On the edge of town, next to the river, is the putting green where we would always stop for a wee game. If I managed to get a hole in one, I would get an extra scoop of ice cream on my cone. Boutique, Framed, Signed Limited Edition