Keith's Talent

The first time I realised that Keith had proper talent was when he made me a birthday card for my 18th. It was an ink and watercolour depiction of the front cover of a novel I would never write. The novel was called Irresistible. It was about an ugly man who one day wakes up and – against all odds – finds that he is utterly irresistible to all women. I did manage to write a couple of scenes and it was the most hideously embarrassing teenage wish fulfilment imaginable, thankfully long destroyed.

The cover on my card featured a brooding, saturnine version of me surrounded by what can only be described as a bevy of buxom beauties, all fawning all over me, groping me, licking me, breathing me in. It was magnificent. Scantily clad they were. All adoring, imploring and swooning. I actually pleasured myself once or twice looking at that card. (I've never admitted that before.) I was blown away by it and I showed my gratitude by a) never writing the novel, and b) spilling half a bottle of red wine all over the card. Klutz. I hated myself for some time for that.

After that card, however, Keith rather got off the horse. Aside from stoned doodles and the occasional caricature as a gift, he didn't really do anything much for years. Every now and then he would say, ‘I really need to start doing some art’, but then he’d get another job making a fake forest for an advert or decorating a drug den for a pop video and all of his creative juice seemed to get channelled into that.

Then earlier this year his hands began inexplicably to shake and he was diagnosed as having MS. Then they found a shadow in his brain which turned out to be an aneurysm.

It might seem a strange thing to say but I’m beginning to think that this was the best thing ever to happen to him.

In the last six months, his output has increased a hundredfold. A magazine has even paid for the privilege of publishing his work and he’s taken on a couple of private commissions. He’s even started turning down proper work to devote more time to his own stuff. (Take that, toads!)

This makes me really happy. Although I know that Keith is great at his job (I know because he’s always telling me), let’s face it, it’s still a job. Whereas his own artwork is so much more than that. It’s a calling.

All of which is by way of introduction to Keith’s latest piece of art, which I think is up there with his best. And I’m not just saying that because it features another flattering version of me.

It’s based on Mr and Mrs Clark and Percy by David Hockney.



Keith’s version is here: Keith and Stan and the Ghost of Pablo. Check it out.

Neat huh?

There are three things I would say about his representation of me however.

1) it’s at least four stone too light
2) it’s at least 35% too handsome
3) it’s at least 6.66% too evil

I love it. David Hockney is a lucky guy.

So, to keep the interactivity going - I know, I know, I'm like a cheesy DJ - tell me, has anyone ever drawn a portrait or caricature of you? Was it any good? Or were you bloody annoyed? Leave your answers, or anything else you have stored up in your heart, in the comments.

Thanks.