I'm the cream of the crop
Help me rise to the top (start here)
I never eat a pig
'cause a pig is a cop
Or better yet a Terminator, like Arnold Schwarzenegger
Tryin' to play me out like as if my name was Sega.
Yes, I’m lyin’, I love bacon and ribs, bitch.
I also panic whenever a police car drives past, one time I got pulled over for driving too slowly.
That last sentence wasn’t quite in tune, was it?
From Corporate Cubicle to Art Studio: Why I'm Here
A quick note: Yes, that opening was lyrics from a 90s rap song. No, I don't normally start essays this way. But stick with me…there's a point to this madness.
Why I'm Writing on Substack
I'm here to share my art and the messy, wonderful journey of creating it while juggling a day job. If you're someone exploring creativity on the side, working in the art world, or just love art, this space is for you.
The 20-Year Art Hiatus
My high school art teacher crushed my confidence with five words: "You can't draw large scale." My teenage response? A defiant "fuck off" as I quit his class and didn't pick up a pencil for two decades.
Fast forward to 2019. I stumbled across a blog post with three simple questions that changed everything:
(Shout out to
)What did I want to become as a child?
What was I obsessed with as a child?
What did people tell me I was good at as a child?
My answers: video game designer, drawing and playing games, drawing and playing games.
Those nostalgic memories of losing myself in pencil and paper came flooding back, sitting carelessly on my parents' carpet, completely absorbed in creating. So I bought some pen and ink and started drawing my dog, Bruno.
The first strokes felt alien. My inner critic was relentless: "You can't do this. You were never that good anyway." But I kept drawing, stroke by stroke, until confidence slowly replaced doubt.
My First Drawings in 20 Years
Which one's your favourite? Let me know in the comments.
From there, I moved on to drawing friends. The positive feedback was intoxicating…validation I'd craved since my teacher's dismissive comment years earlier.
Rory Walker (2019) - Colored markers on paper, A5
I loved developing my own style, though I wrestled with the pressure to make my art more "realistic." That path felt boring and arduous—more chore than joy. So I ignored it and kept creating.
The inner voice persisted: "You're shit, you're shit, you're shit." My response was simple: keep drawing and painting, drawing and painting, drawing and painting.
The Studio That Changed Everything
By June 2021, my art supplies had taken over our house. My wife's patience was wearing thin with paint-stained carpets and cluttered surfaces. During a life drawing class, I asked about studio spaces.
The instructor mentioned Artsite…a community of local artist studios. I contacted Sally, one of the founders, just as someone was leaving for the Isle of Wight. Perfect timing. There's usually a massive waiting list, but serendipity smiled on me.
Moving into that studio made me feel like a real artist for the first time.
What's Happened Since
Here's the condensed version of my journey since 2019:
25+ exhibitions across the UK and internationally (Berlin, Brussels, London)
Multiple solo exhibitions, including FISTULA at Artsite and the upcoming London show "Memento vivere"
Six large-scale commissioned outdoor murals in my town
Private collections across the UK and the US (including Westminster, Colorado)
Started SLARTIFY podcast: It’s by no means polished, but it’s there (still working on my interview shyness)
Groundbreaking Outsider Art Exhibition at Swindon Art Museum in 2025.
Written over 400+ posts on Substack (not bad for someone who failed English GCSE 3 times).
That last one's for you, Mr. Ravenscroft: my ex-art teacher who said I couldn't work large scale.
I share this not to boast, but to illustrate a paradox: despite these achievements, I'm no closer to being a full-time artist. And I've made peace with that.
Who This Is For
You're working a day job (maybe you love it, maybe you don't) while exploring creative pursuits on the side. You understand the tension between stability and artistic expression. You've felt the pull of "I'll be happy when I quit and become a full-time artist."
I've been there. I've also learned to set that conditional happiness aside and find joy in both worlds.
What to Expect
When: Two posts weekly (minimum).
Wednesday: Mid-week creative boost from Drei Fragen.
Saturday: Weekly art practice diary.
What: I write about Art, AI, and Mindset: sharing stories of past and present artworks, juggling creativity with a day job, and exploring my philosophy of the artistic life. It’s the roadmap I wish I’d had as a young artist.
If this sounds like your cup of tea, subscribe below.
Don't Take My Word For It
Cream of the crop is recommended by awesome people such as:
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and… last but not least
So if you believe them, please subscribe below.
This was so sweet and real. I'm in a similar position, picking up my writing after years of trying and stopping, or of writing for money only (soul-crushing). I'm happy whenever I find late bloomers or someone who just took their time. It feels like the world is forcing people to pick something to become earlier and earlier. Love Bruno's eyes in the 3rd drawing!
I loved your “stick it to the piece-of-shit art teacher” story. The saddest part? It’s way too common.
My son recently stopped writing because his English teacher told him he couldn’t write an essay if his life depended on it. That he couldn’t keep up with his classmates, who were apparently writing college-level essays… in 6th grade (seriously?). He even suggested remedial classes.
A few months later, my son, who had been watching me write on Substack, opened his own account—at first just to support me. But one night, he decided to publish something. And it was good. My community rallied around him, sent him love, and lifted him up. He dusted off his shoulders, sent the post to his teacher, and let the praise speak for itself.
Did he get an apology? Nope. But I made damn sure that teacher knew exactly how damaging his words had been. Suffice to say he’s no longer my son’s teacher, but the real win? My son refused to let someone else define him. Because if he hadn’t challenged that lie, he could have easily gone 20 years without ever writing again.
So congrats to you for daring to be you, for accomplishing all you have since, and for proving that no one gets to decide our worth but us.
It’s great to meet you. 🤝
PS—loved #2. Lots of personality in that one!!