It was while I had the contract to refurbish The Greyhound that I came across Marlon’s canvas of The Bull. Sadly the budget didn’t stretch to such a piece as it would sit perfectly in what was then deemed as the gentlemans’ bar.
I never forgot about it and always had the odd sneaky peak online to remind myself of just how brilliant and meaningful the canvas was to me. A year or so later I am lying in Laverstock ward having undergone a vast amount of surgery when Marlon arrived having flown over from Australia to see Lucy,Sam and I. He walked in with a long tubular package under his arm. I didn’t really take notice of this as we were happily chatting away catching up with each other.
When the conversation slowed he mentioned The Bull and how desperate I was a year ago to be able to display it. He then undid the package to unroll the canvas. I struggled to hold back the tears,in fact as I recall I couldn’t. He then went on to describe the imagery and meaning of the work to him and likened it to me. I was lost for words.
It is now proudly displayed in my living room. Every time I look at it it reminds me of how far I’ve come and the generosity of a great friend.