Has a degree in mathematics (yes, mathematics) 1979, Exeter (also England). After varied but relatively normal career as estate manager at some run down country mansions etc. etc. our hero embarked on a spell with rock band, which led to the predictable nervous exhaustion and bout of pleurisy. In a search of rest and recuperation, and in meditative mood, he rekindles an age-old interest in art. (Birmingham has one of the countries largest collections of Pre-Raphaelite art in the world, by which I had always been fascinated)
After untold years investigating and reproducing oil painting techniques of the past (luckily there are some great galleries in London…) our man came to a crossroads. On the same day he had to either accept or decline a place at teacher training college (Thinking of becoming a mathematics teacher) he unexpectedly sold some work, and being single with no dependants, “took the bull by the horns” and ran headlong for the world of art, screaming furiously
He then proceeded to exhibit at various London galleries, The Dive Gallery, Muswell Hill, London, “The Gallery” Muswell Hill, London; The Whitechapel Gallery (in Jack The Ripper Country…ooooooeeeeeerrrrrr) The Mall Galleries (central London, Very ritzy) The Royal Birmingham Society of Artists & The Royal Academy Summer Exhibition (Piccadilly, London). (Does all this “Royal” stuff imply that a clandestine relationship with the Queen? Read on)
He struck up a relationship with a… nameless dealer in Chelsea (London) & another in Amsterdam (Holland) and for the next 12 years or so he busily painted away, desperately trying to provide the almost infinite amount of money necessary to feed his 2 growing son’s Playstation habit. He cultivated rich & powerful patrons in Paris, New York & Tokyo
Then, out of the blue, an email arrived from New York. It was from some guy calling himself “Steve Diamant” claiming to run an art gallery. He checked Steve out, and found that despite his shady mob connections, he seemed an honest fellow. Before the month was out, Diamant had sold our Hero’s entire back catalog and our Hero bought a chateau in the South of France with the proceeds, and died at the ripe old age of 213 smiling happy, having outlived his usefulness
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