Old age and retirement 17 years ago presented me with a new challenge. Just like a new job, I had to start learning what I could do with this newfound time. Throughout my business life, which began by establishing a plastics company, then a successful firm distributing medical devices (including manufacturing equipment for special needs children), I enjoyed opportunities to create and design various products.
So it was a natural step to buy a camera, embracing new technology that did away with film and led to the demise of household names like Kodak and Polaroid. My new travelling companion was a Canon EOS, switched onto automatic, allowing me more time to focus on subjects rather than putting my glasses on and readjusting a bewildering host of possibilities. I was soon clicking away, but this led me to more than I could have imagined.
The quarryman’s son
I didn’t need to go far for photogenic material – my home is surrounded by around 500 acres of bush. And, having been a keen gardener for more than 40 years, the native New Zealand trees I’d planted were a great source of food for nectar-seeking bird life. So the subjects I began snapping were literally sitting on my doorstep.
The images were much admired, so I self-published my first book, Tommy Tui’s Journey. I contracted a Hong Kong printing house to print 2000 copies, which I managed to sell profitably throughout the Greater Wellington region. So began the life of a late-budding author. The sequel was lost when my home was burgled and my computer containing the book and original photos disappeared.
However, in the meantime I’d written a brief story of my life, The Quarryman’s Son, and offered it on Amazon. It’ll never break any sales records, but the response from readers gave me a little confidence that at least some people enjoyed my style of writing.
I’ve travelled extensively throughout my life, visiting some 60 countries, and will always enjoy seeing and communicating with people from around the world. However getting old comes with another challenge – an old body. It’s not only reduced my travels but has affected my physical ability to kneel or clamber up a tree for different angles. And anyway, most people carry a camera in their pocket today; they’re instantly gratified. So my enjoyment of photography began to wane.
One art leads to another
The older you get, the more attending burials becomes an unsolicited habit. Often, at a wake, discussion turns to the deceased’s childhood, which in many cases remains a mystery. Thinking back to my own childhood, I realised how little I knew of my own parents’ backgrounds, and less still those of their parents. Just the date of their deaths back in 1918, engraved on a large piece of slate.
This resulted in me bringing my index finger out of retirement to write about my childhood in more detail, in the book A Brush With Love, Life and Laughter. It read reasonably well but lacked illustrations. I recalled that I had about a dozen pictures from the period. The only photographer in the family before me was my Auntie Margiad, who possessed a Box Brownie, and had been exceedingly cautious about taking pictures due to the cost of developing the film. What to do?
I decided to try and paint an illustration of the topic I’d written about on each page. So began yet another challenge – to teach myself to paint. Simple acrylics, a pot of water, and a few brushes saw me begin a new adventure around seven years ago: to become an artist.
I’ve always enjoyed art, particularly Lowry and his stick figures, so I began by illustrating the book with similar figures. Instead of having chapters, the book now had the story on one page with about 45 naive paintings on the facing pages, sometimes accompanied by a black-and-white photograph of my childhood.
In the people’s hands
Having completed the book, I sent pdf copies to various people during the early pandemic, and received many complimentary and encouraging responses. I wasn’t at all surprised by the contrasting lack of interest from established publishers.
Rather than let the book eventually follow me into the clouds, I discovered a great resting place for it on the website of the People’s Collection Wales – the archive of the National Library of Wales. A Brush With Love, Life and Laughter and some of my short stories and poetry are available there for free. I’m delighted to see it’s not resting quietly, as over 550 people have accessed the book to date.
Now in my seventh year of painting for sheer enjoyment, I’ve converted my double garage into a gallery to host over a hundred paintings. I don’t have many visitors – my home is thankfully on a quiet country road among the trees and birds – but those who do visit often ask if they can buy a picture (or, in one instance, three).
However, I’d like to keep the collection together, and hold an auction of it, with 65% of the revenue going to a charity of the buyers’ choice. As it’s a donation they’ll receive a tax benefit, and will possibly consider this when they bid.
As I began with a challenge, I’ll end with one. I would like to challenge other older members of our society to consider writing – and indeed illustrating – the stories of their own childhoods in 2025, creating and recording a legacy for their own families. Who wants to know of mine, I don’t know. But I wish I’d written down what little my own Welsh family told me, and now it’s too late.
