The funny thing about the work of Nigel Peake is that I really didn't like it. I was given his book of drawings and paintings, Strøm, a little while back but it didn't do a thing for me. I didn't like his colours, I thought his subject matter was dull and the whole thing seemed pointless.
But then his other book arrived, In The Wilds. And I felt it would only be fair to give it some time. I've done this before. Judged books by their covers only to realise much, much later that I've missed something important. That's the thing about weird stuff that you don't immediately like. You need to give it some time. It's like people, some you like immediately, some you have to get to know.
Peake's work, I feel, you have to get to know. Spend some quality time together. Take it out for coffee. I did that. And what I found was an obsessive nature and love of the everyday, not unlike my own; a fanatical devotion to his lines; and a view of the world not like any other's. The longer I spent with the book the more my admiration grew.
I now love the work of Nigel Peake.
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