I never imagined frome trapping me as it did. Leaving Shropshire I abandoned teaching jobs but a no life in desolate cottage to join my partner who was learning glass blowing at neil Wilkin, the best studio in the country then. We moved in temporary dives and I stopped drinking and ssris then went to Pewsey, some 45 minute drive to find my college freind Gareth Neal working at Fred Baiers studio. Rachel hutchinson and brian Moxom also shared space and within a day I had a home. I began making Fred's work. Living in frome I had a social life in the two towns that caused alice jealous rages but these peppered our lives together. I drifted in to more of a social life in Pewsey while Alice's social circle remained in frome. She was keen on clubbing, ecstasy, cocaine and our weekends took on a glamorous feel as we would go out dancing in bristol, bath or london. Clive, a designer at kevin mc clouds was of our gang and an idea for a shared studio grew. Finally we found one next to liquid glass. We formed PULL and did a few design jobs together. I, by force of habit built a wood shop. We built a seperate room for design. Leaving Fred's after two years came at a time when Gareth wanted me to share his leap to london. My loyalty to alice prevented this.nso for a short time pull went well. We enjoyed a few triumphs; designs for Liberties, an exhibition stand I desifned won an award. L grew to feel it was my creative ideas alone that were our reasons for success. I under estimated Clive. He was no great designer but he could capture a clients faith. Perhaps if I had recognised that this skill, communication, is what was most important.
Ultimately this crashed. I went to Spain for a month, leaving the house keys with clive, to look after the cat. On return he had moved in all his posessions, lost the cat and pocketed both halves of a payment on drawings which in fact were mine. This meant an end to Pull, and our freindship.
Soon I replaced him with Magnus who was just beginning his woodwork career. We shared rent and became good freinds. We did some jobs together, a kitchen for richard McCormack and jocaste innes. A mezzanine and timber staircase. A posher kitchen in rode.
Alice's father was an architect. On one visit to see her parents we were taken to meet Rupert Lynmouth. Alice was commissioned to make a chandelier. I was asked to design and make a kitchen in London. I had promised myself never to do one again but it was clear further work could well follow. After the kitchen came bookcases, a fire surround, a library, a dining table, a four poster bed, another bed, a large cabinet. Most of the house. A workshop can not sit idle but must earn money to survive. I managed a good piece. A selection for Cheltenham. But my work, my creative journey began to atrophy as I made furniture for Rupert.
My father fell ill so being the childless sibling, I dropped all to be in leeds to be there and visit him as he recovered from a brain operation. Having taken custody of Tex, a husky shepherd cross I was to share with Alice, she never found time to look after him. This meant places to stay were restricted. Hence I stayed with my best freind richard. He was a heroin addict but des proximity I never gave in. Ten months there found me picking up a crack habit which bedevilled me for years. I found work with a company making fittings and fitting out museums and visitor centres. For ten months I worked there. Often away on site. Projects included the Deep in hull, Birmingham museum, Sheffield crucible. Later I would be called to work on bovington tank museum and Plymouth museum. I was on a subutex prescription which I collected fortnightly in frome. One week I found myself short, unable to buy any black market but comitted to work I bought one bag of heroin. This showed up on a screen and I was returned to daily pick up. My father was well on the way to recovery so I returned to frome figuring subutex, my caravan were a better choice than to return to heroin and retain my job. One bag lost all my means to remain in leeds. I needed to get out of Richards. His death spiral had begun, special brew and heroin were all he consumed. He died within a couple of years. This caused a madness in me that saw my crack use continue.
One table wa all I had in orders. My workshop was a luxury I couldn't afford while in leeds so Magnus returned to his old space in rode. I sold my dimension saw to Gareth and finished the table at mags.
Out of the blue an email from Rupert came ordering at least two years work. Again I dropped my own art pieces to take this opportunity of security. Two four poster beds, six chests of drawers, two single beds, several bedside units, six dressing tables, a Welsh dresser, a table in elm, a oval kitchen table, tv table, bookcases, a deal with leather top and a chair, the one I am photographed with on the cover of some woodwork magazine.
My crack habit continued. Being paid up front in large cheques was difficult to manage with such a habit. But somehow I did.
No one with my substance issues or severity of mental health issues has accomplished anything close to what I did. This boast may seem odd but no one to my knowledge has done anything of that scale from that position.
I grew to hate the stuff. To hate myself. Working away for six months my new partner Claire so selflessly looked after Tex. Sled dogs are hard work. They are not far from wolves. One time I tied Rtex to a metal bin in leeds. The old classic design, heavy full of rubbish. In the chip shop I heard a clang and saw the queue watch ing a dog running at full speed, his lead tied to a metal binthat crashed around behind him. He Ran between two parked cars smashing light clusters, denting panels. Alarms rang out as I chased him. Once unattached from bin we ran so the car owners would not catch us.
Claire grew to love Tex. Looking after him ensured she rise each morning. On my weekly returns I could see colour and health growing in her, depression from which she suffers severely lifting. She looked so beautiful. That is the last times I remember before long term subutex use took my emotional sensibility.
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