The Art of Being Arty

It’s a shame. Almost none of the masterpieces I produced as a child have been preserved. This makes the odds of any kind of retrospective exhibition even less likely than would have been the case had they survived. Forget souvenir tea towels emblazoned with my early sketches of ‘Flash Gordon’ (who was, for a time, my muse) or a set of matching coasters featuring my various attempts to replicate the ‘Ghostbusters’ logo. You’ll just have to make do with imagining how awesome it would be to own your very own tote bag displaying these potent images. I could, I suppose, try and recreate these seminal pieces of artwork but, frankly, I haven’t drawn anything more than a conclusion in the past thirty years and I suspect I could be rusty.
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The Honda 110: Chariot of the Gods

Farewell, friend. You served me well. Now that it’s over, it’s hard not to look back with fondness at the time we spent together. Deep down, I knew it would come to an end at some point, I just didn’t expect that moment to be now. When I heard the news, it was as if a part of my soul left my body. There will forever more be a small hole in the shape of a three-wheeled motorbike in my heart. So long, Honda 110. You were the best motorbike a young boy could ever want.
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Reflections on the Race for the Iron Throne

I couldn’t help myself. I lapped up every second of it even though it meant planting myself in front of the television for ten consecutive hours, breaking only for sustenance. It’s official: I’m hooked. I’m the first to admit that I am addicted, despite having been resistant early on. Now there’s nothing so important to me as finding out who will win the battle to rule the six kingdoms (and two territories) and sit on the Iron Throne. Ser Malcolm or Ser Bill?
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A Force Awakens Within Me

I wouldn’t describe myself as a fanatic. At least, not compared to the guy a few doors down who drives the 1993 Subaru Legacy and has personalised ‘Star Wars’ number plates. (To be precise, I think it’s some vowel-deprived variant. Good thing he’s not a fan of ‘The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants’ though.) It’s not as if I refer to ‘the Force’ in everyday conversation and I’ve never nominated ‘Jedi’ as my chosen religion on a Census form. Nor have I campaigned to have May the fourth recognised as an official public holiday. But, one way or another, Star Wars has been part of my life for almost forty years.
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