John D Moulton

Newark, United Kingdom

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My art has become my life. It hasn't always been that way and maybe things will change, who knows. I can say though, without question, that my art has been at my heart since I was about seven years old, and I hope ever more shall remain so - please.

An appreciation of the female form started about the age of seven too, strange as that may sound, not bodies (I don't think?) but faces - their geography, their form and the amazing layers of shadows and shades that embrace them.

I would 'get into trouble' with my mother on a regular basis for doodling on the front cover of her 'Woman's Own' magazine. She really did think I was vandalising them. In reality, I was drawings hoops and lines around every different colour or shade I could find, I really was quite obsessive about it I must admit - I'm surprised, now that I think about it, that she didn't have me off to the doctors or the psychiatrist or some such! Thankfully, there would probably have been far too much of a stigma attached to such an act back then, in the 1950's!

Getting a bit cleverer, or just plain trying to keep out of trouble, I began grabbing sheets of carbon paper from my father's desk and grease-proof paper from my mother's kitchen drawer to help keep my mother's magazines in tact. A Sheet of plain paper under the cover of the magazine, carbon paper on top of that, magazine cover then laid down with the grease-proof paper then laid over it. At first I thought the 'mapping' not half so good, I couldn't see the finer colours or shades, but the carbon copy result made very interest viewing.

It then struck me, probably by the age of eleven or so (when I had also invested in real tracing paper) that I could 'fill in' all the darkest areas and all the background too, using plenty of ink from my dad's ink well, to create images that looked as if they were bathed in just pure white light. I thought they looked fantastic, but my parents just thought they were weird. The love of such images has stayed with me to this day and now, of course, they are my beautiful "Moonlight Cameo's" and are still only really appreciated by a minority of viewers.

Back though, to my early days, and to not more that 13 years old or so. Yes! The hormones began to rage, as they do in most young lads, not that I appreciated that back then because my thought were my own. But those feelings often caused conflict in my head. Was my interest in those 'top-shelf' magazines, art or the early thoughts and feeling of some would-be sex maniac in the making? Still, these little A5 glossies, with titles like "Nudist Times", had me in their spell. It would take me a lifetime to make a purchase from a person behind the counter who's face I never saw.

Back home, I'd hide them under the newspaper that lined the bottom draw of the Tallboy in my bedroom, or under the mattress - they were bound to be safe hiding places, weren't they? I would look through the pages in quiet moments, not truly appreciating the pouts and the 'come-on' smiles. And of my viewing? It was the disappointment that I recall the most. Only finding one image in a whole book-full that would work as a cameo for me, but maybe one other would make a proper pencil drawing – if I dared.

I did dare and now I had two bundles to hide away, my art and its source. You've probably guessed it already, it wasn't long before my father called me aside, shut the door and confronted me with one of my little glossies. I can remember it as clearly as if it were ten minutes ago. He had chosen perhaps the most ridiculous and offensive image he could find to push under my nose. "Just WHAT, exactly is THIS all about?" he asked forcing me to look upon this woman, who's huge breasts were placed one each upon two dinner plates on a table. Her smile burned into my eyes as if she were mocking me shamelessly.

He never mentioned my art and I never saw any of those drawings again or indeed any of my little hoard of ladies, they all just disappeared unspoken, and fear of further retribution (yes, I did get a good-hiding), put all thought of art aside for a long time.

A year or so passed and I was playing with my mates in the old brick air-raid shelter that stood four-square as the centrepiece of our back garden. One of the lads had his school satchel with him, which I thought a little odd. This was Saturday after all? "Look at this!" he said excitedly as he delved inside to pull out several copies of Penthouse and Playboy. To say I was shocked would be to understate my feeling by a mile. "I found them under the wardrobe in Mum and Dad's bedroom," he said with mischief written all over his face, "my marble rolled under there, and there they were!" My pals were all intent on shuffling through the pages with all speed to giggle and point and jurk their hands around in mock displays of masturbation – a gesture that embarrassed me beyond belief. But it was so much deeper an experience than that for me. The pictures that amused them most, just made me cringe and the odd one that actually had me thinking "WOW!" was passed over in an instant.

The 'wow' picture was lost in the moment, and my 'evil' intent to scour the pages of Playboy and Penthouse to find more was born. More embarrassing visits to the newsagent followed, as did the troubles that were always going to manifest themselves in their wake. None of it ever quelled my thirst for beauty, and as written elsewhere on my Sensual-Arts.Com website: much as I often felt like one of the dirty raincoat brigade or my preferred parallel to a prospector sifting through muck and rubbish for the odd golden nugget, I persisted in my quest.

In later years, as trends with such 'Men's Magazines' moved from beauty and 'glamour' and from sensual glamour to far more 'suggestive' and 'provocative' poses, my search began to centre around photographic magazines, fashion magazines and even mail order catalogues where photography had become more natural and indeed more sensual by degrees than had been the case in the 1950's and early 60's.

My current 'Reference Portfolio/Library' is the result, and though it too has been raided, plundered, burned, torn to sheds and deprecated over the years, it's purpose is now fully understood and its value immeasurable.

Maybe it's understandable then, that I kept my art very much to myself for so many years. Shy to share it with anyone and quite unable to share it with women. Such stupidity stayed with me until the age of around 40, by which time my eldest daughter would have been around 19 and my youngest around 12. Somehow the subject of art came up with my two eldest (the middle daughter being around 16) and risky as I thought it may be, I dared show them my work and their very genuine acceptance was a joy to my heart.

From there, and as their appreciation for my art grew, so did my confidence to share it – a little. The girls would encourage me by buying such things as a watercolour painting set for a birthday. Eventually, through reading books on favourite artists, such as Boris Vallejo and Alberto Vargas, also bought for me by my girls, I discovered the airbrush and a whole new world opened up to me.

Now the years are rolling by. I'm a father, well shackled on the treadmill of working life and with tough trading within my industry causing cut backs and closures, finding time for art between learning new skills and settling into new companies, was something close to choosing art or sleep. Sleep won and for more years I did no artwork at all.

Then the internet came into our lives and my girls, two of whom had flown the nest by now, asked if I would put my art up on the internet, so that they could always show off their Dad's paintings and drawings to their friends, wherever they were. I agreed to give it some thought and Sensual-Arts.Com was born. Built as it was, on the premise of a no-nothing, would-be artist presenting his works on a platform interlaced with personal justifications for what I create and reasons why I feel as I do about it, to advice for those who may wish to do the same or better than me, not to be shy, not to be denied, not to feel they'll never get better than they are today, and not to quash their desire to take their art to places they believe impossible to image today.

Now, as I write this, (January 2007), I am beginning to live my own lectures, learning to be proud of the images I create, learning that those I was most incapable of sharing my art with (women), are by far my largest audience and (thank you ladies) by far the greatest number amongst my buyers. And yes, I'm SEEING that I too can get better, my recent pencil works are a real joy to me and I have just joined an art group to learn a skill I have always feared and AVOIDED – that of oil painting, only to find that in reality, I'm OK at it – OK enough to have just been offered £350 (cheap at twice the price) for what is only my third ever work in oils - Oh to the future and to yours too.

Thank you for reading this, and if you are a student of art yourself – at ANY level, PLEASE take yourself off to my Sensual-Arts.Com website and click that "Student's Corner" button. What you will read there, I doubt you will find in any book or learn from any lecture.

Enjoy!

John.

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