I was lucky enough to stumble upon my old art note book from my school days. Its packed full of scribbles, notes and reports of those boring school trips we were all subjected to all in the name of education. Its really strange looking back after all this things close to 14 years old and was written at a time when I never had a care in the world and was at a stage in your life when you could still pick and choose what direction you wanted your future to take. It was also written at a time when my favourate teacher was still alive and it made me sad thinking back.

Reading through it makes me smile though as its obvious that I thought I knew it all and had no problem letting people know my dislike for gallery visits. I can say quite honestly however that this was the year that that really encouraged the artist within.