Posted 20 April 2022
The more time I spend with casks of whisky, the more I find myself equating them to boxes of crayons. It doesn’t matter how many colours you possess – if you mix them all together you’ll end up with a muddy brown mess. Travelling back in time to the early 80s – like many, I put my apparent lack of artistic ability wholly down to not possessing every single Crayola. More colours = better art. Right? Another birthday – and another pile of increasingly ambiguous shades would arrive. Year after year this resulted in no improvement in either my aptitude or my technique, but it did see a growing number of indelible marks appearing across my parents (apparently “prized” – I’m still very unsure of this fact) wooden coffee table. Untalented and unpopular.