Tuesday, 26 April 2011


I didn't paint these soldiers. They were painted by one of my sons. When I started to paint soldiers as a child in the 70's, they looked alot like these.

To be fair, my son is a much better painter at this age that I ever was. He has had a guiding hand, and has been fascinated by my 'paint box' ever since he first saw it. I had no parent or sibling that shared my obsession as a child but almost every spare penny I could muster was spent on Airfix figures, kits or enamel paints (to think that my Dad allowed me to have a bottle of white spirits/meths in my bedroom at the age of 10 boggles the mind).

My early efforts were crude, my palette limited by my budget and my brushes in a poor state. My carpet was a patchwork of accidental spills covered only by my piped 70's Y-fronts that littered the floor.

The most important colour in my arsenal at that age was red as almost all of my carpet warriors had been bravely injured in combat much like this Gladiator shown here.

Every painted figure was started and finished in a single sitting, the patience required to attain a decent finish eluded me until my mid teens. By this times I had gone from plastic toy soldiers to metal D&D or Games Workshop figures. I continued to paint until I went to college, discovered girls and my figure painting all but stopped.

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