Charcoal and white chalk on paper.
My observations of the serious expression that many of us with Parkinson’s Disease live with. Followed by a few written thoughts of daily frustrations.
As I stuggle to sign my name – Tell them,
Misunderstood as I mumble and slur – Tell them,
When I stumble in street the – Tell them again.
Tell them No, He’s not been drinking.
Tell them, Dave’s got Parkinson’s.
“Over the River”- 60cm. x 72cm. Acrylic, charcoal,ink, on paper.
This painting was given the title “Over the River’, because it was influenced by the PD Warrior stepping exercise of that name. I find it a helpful training aid for my walking ability. Unfortunately, nothing is foolproof, and I suffered my first Parkinson’s related fall recently. The falling figures within the painting are a direct referenceto my own first fall. Documenting this way is helpful. Although I shall not forget this tumble, the painting fixes it in time, adding a chronological order to the event.
Figurative Abstract (untitled 1). Acrylic on canvas, 50cm. x 70cm.
Using spontaneous and intuitave responses to personal emotions, this painting again references Parkinson’s. My use of vivid colours is a rebellious statement that rails against what could easily be a depressive disease. The tottering figure, mimics the unstable walk and freezing of gait, that makes venturing out alone a precarious business for many.
‘Its a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door.” “You step into the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there is no telling where you might be swept off to.” (Bilbo Baggins – The Fellowship of the Ring.)
Keep smiling, Cheers, Dave.
“Then and Now.” A Self Portrait. Acrylic, ink and collage on paper. 50cm. x 70cm.
The blank, expressionless Parkinson’s face, looks through the Kaleidoscope of colours with which I love to fill my paintings; expressing the brightness and joy camouflaged by the mask. Cheers Dave.
“The Writing is on the Wall” – acrylic, ink on paper. 50cm. x 70cm.
In this chaotic painting my prime intent was to include text, I am not sure why. Maybe it is out of concern about my worsening handwriting, or more likely because I am now able to include text with a certain authority. Words that mattered little to me a year ago have now assumed gravitas, they form part of the Parkinson’s story, which is now also my story, and so they belong.
Words, like dopamine, bradykinesia and leva-dopa, can be spelt out amongst the more established symbols, taking their place in a personal abstract vacabulary that forms the image. Without enough Dopamine, brain cells that control movement die, the ability to control movement is drastically reduced, – “welcome to Parkinson’s disease, Davie”.
Text was spontaneously scrawled across the surface with twigs dipped in various inks, I thought these final words to be a fitting title. For no matter what – Parkinson’s is a degenerative condition, “the writing is on the wall”, and inevitably, there can be only one victor.
Acrylic and ink on 300gsm paper. 50cm. x 70cm.
Recognisable motifs or symbols have become recurring elements in my works. New symbols often appear as a painting developes and if relevant, they remain.
The hands developed from vague distant memories of junior school art, (when we would draw an outline around our hands to be coloured in). However when added to this work the hands took on a new meaning and memories most rececent, replaced those of earlier times. “Steady Hands” show that as a Parkinson’s sufferer, I am fortunate to not yet have tremors. The vibrant colours are my way of railing against a dull unpleasant disease. And the “Lost Neurons”, how else can I portray brain cells no longer there, than to have voids and holes within the image? Lost neurons are gone forever, I must use different cells to ‘rewire’ my brain.
“Scibbling”, Acrylic and Ink on paper. 50cm. x 70cm.
Another painting in my ‘Parkinson’s’ series of works. Composed of many layers, laden with symbolism and memory, from the blackboard in earlier layers to the egg in the foreground. It recalls the thrill as a young schoolboy is introduced to pots of coloured paints, comparing that experience to the same boy today,. Inspired by colour still, but now much older. ‘Scribbling’ has more than one definition in this painting, one meaning talks of handwriting as I re-learn to write. Another concerns memory. Recollections of a young boy, fascinated by the markings on the eggs of the Yellowhammer. As young boys we used to call this small bird the ‘Scribbling Master’. The egg itself may be a symbol of new life. It could be my new life, one of re-learning lost skills. Time passes; now it is I who may be the ‘Scribbling Master’.