Any
Excuse
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As a kid I loved steam locomotives, living around the corner
from Longsight sheds was ideal for me, everyday on way home from school
I would watch the Mancunian race through Longsight Station on its way to
London, usually hauled by Royal Scot class locomotive, with its distinctive
three cylinder exhaust beat.
As the last coach cleared the station I would be down the stairs and into
the underpass beneath the station, it always damp, smelt of gas and the
place was really spooky, to the point that I always ended up whistling some
pointless tune, that would eerily echo around the grimy white tiled tunnel,
as I approached the tunnels end my legs would be a blur, literally galloping
up the stairs into the daylight.
I would then meander down the clinker covered track to the Loco shed grasping
my notepad in my sweaty little hand.
I would always approach the loco yard with great trepidation as I had to
travel over the footbridge and pass the foreman’s office without being
seen, this exercise had to be treated with military precision, otherwise
you would be given a thick ear and then escorted out of the place.
Once in the yard, the trick was to keep a low profile; the last thing you
wanted was to be caught at this stage. Let’s be fair the place could
be dangerous, but when you’re young your invincible, and you do see
people who have your welfare as a priority, the enemy.
Eventually you’re going to get caught that’s inevitable, so
the trick is to have a good excuse, not that any of them ever worked.
I’m sure the railway workers had a board on the wall full of our excuses,
if not they should have it would have made cheerful reading before they
went on shift, my mother works here, I’m looking for my dad, I must
be lost, I was on my way to the shop for my mum, when I took a wrong turn,
plus the occasional bribe, would you like a toffee..
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The painting portrays the excuse moment and the amused railwayman, just
before our little hero is lead from the premises.
Acrylic and oil on board, with airbrushed atmospherics.