The Art of Paul Rumsey
Things went wrong from the first hour of my first day at school. We were told to write our ABC. I wrote a couple of capital As, got bored and prompted by the shape turned the rest into a row of boats. I was drawing happily until I found the teacher standing over me. She said that babies couldn’t be trusted with nice school books, so I would spend the rest of the week writing with chalk on a piece of slate. Sitting in the corner, scratching away with the crumbling chalk, smirked at by my classmates, epitomised my school days. I developed a deep hatred for the teacher and for school in general. My attitude was resistance and defiance. Contrariness became a matter of honour and a pattern was set. My school work remained poor, while the drawings improved and became my one area of achievement. I was always bottom of the class but winning children’s art prizes. Link
