The Rambling Son

Father Son Wordplay Writing

Hello there folks, it's Samuel Lowry here (Raymond's son and heir). If you have stumbled upon this element of the Ray Lowry website you may be wondering what the hell it's all about; you are not alone as that is exactly what I too am pondering, but feck it let's go on a journey together.
 It is I (with help), who set up this site to celebrate, honour and attempt to keep the flame burning regarding the legacy that my dad left behind. I hope you have appreciated it thus far.
I would like to thank all those who have bought prints, cartoons and original pieces of artwork, as this goes a long way in helping me continue putting time into the archive and pays for the cost of running The Hand of Ray Lowry as a business. Also a shout out to those who took the time to go and visit the exhibition at the Saul Hay Gallery back in March. The exhibition was a tremendous success and it was wonderful to see so many people come together in celebration of the man and his work. One has hopes of organising another exhibition in London at some point this year(25), so if any independent galleries are interested, please get in touch. The art world is a strange animal and I have been attempting to navigate it the best way possible over the past several years. 

A month or so ago I was delighted to discover that a blog element had been introduced to the Shopify platform, as over the years I have toyed with the art of wordplay. A dreaded question I am often asked when it comes to discussing my fathers multi faceted creativity is " Have you got the gift? "  or something along those lines, and with this I submissively respond with " Sadly not ", which is generally followed by an awkward pause and the climax of that particular conversation. On occasion if I am feeling particularly daring, I do share that I have a slight spark (with endless refinement required) when it comes to the written word. It has taken me many years to even consider having the confidence to say such things aloud. Fear and doubt are powerful entities, and if not fought against, can have you buried in a hole, with only your insecurities for company. The mind is a powerful tool.

Back to the delight of blog discovery. The idea here is to collide father and son in a new age collaboration of the creative process. My father from the grave and me from the land of the living. Fuck knows where it will lead, but one hopes it will be entertaining for any who decide to peruse this platform.
Several years ago I created a blog as a tool to practice my writing, and have all those ramblings saved. In the pursuit of sharing my words I will pull from them and share some of that content here. I do not claim an Orwellian or Shakespearean type of flair; who the hell can? What I can tell you is that spilling ink is a process where I find cathartic comfort. It is also a practice within which raw honesty can be explored, and with this, hopefully connects to the visceral parts of those who choose to read. 

Some will find my ramblings to be a load of old bollocks, where some will read between the lines and be welcomed to explore a little of this man's scattered soul, along with a little more about the man behind the art.

" My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way "  - Ernest Hemingway

Thank you for tapping in. ✌🏻👣


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  • Daniel Saunders on

    ‘Old man, take a look at my life, I’m a lot like you

    I need someone to love me the whole day through

    Ah, one look in my eyes and you can tell that’s true…’

    I’m here for the collision! 💙


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