Like so many artists Donovan was born in a castle under the sea where star fish brought him caviar for breakfast, lunch and dinner.  It was one day when he was a meagre three, or ten, or fifteen or so years old that he ventured out past the gates of the castle and into the wonderful abyss of the Sans-trans-Cans Pacific. On this most obscure day, Donovan studied the new and colourful world around him. Such colours, vibrancy and textures were not to be found inside the walls of the dreary grey scale castle he called home,no matter how many times new romans came to decorate.

 

Around three o'clock on this most exciting day of days, Donovan waded past the most curious of creatures he ever did see.  Not one leg, not two legs and surely not three, this beast had more legs then his poor eyes could see. With a startled "Yelp" Donovan jumped in the air and the weirdest of creatures omitted black soils. The magic black cloud danced in the waters and filled his tuberous fingers with what is since known to be called ink.  

 

After many, many hours Donovan reached dry land. Exhausted, he rested his tired head and aching bones on the trunk of a coconut palm. A wind gusted from the mountains behind and rustled the canopy of the palm shaking coconuts to the ground around him. One of the coconuts hit him full force on the head turning his quiet restfulness into a fit of rage. He tore and scratched at the coconut until the ink dripped from his tuberous fingers onto the porous husks of his tormenting foe.  With each retched hand movement patterns appeared. From anger, to calm, Donovan intently scribbled away recreating all the beautiful things he'd seen on his journey across the bottom of the ocean. And that is how Donovan became an artist.

 

Of course, that was a long time ago. Donovan still enjoys his art work, music and long walks along the beach. He currently resides on the Sunshine Coast in Queensland, Australia.