John Lennon was my favorite Beatle. He was always the political one. I liked that. I remember listening to many albums by the Beatles when I was about fifteen years old. The whole family would be in the lounge room. Everybody loved the Beatles. Mum would probably have been in the kitchen cooking. Might have been a roast. Dad would be sitting on a couch reading the paper. Typical family really.

Dad had dementia. He was never tested for HD, but must have had the disease and probably took it to the grave. This is my conjecture. As for me, things started to change when I got HD. I'd drop plates and fall over. My gait changed. My girlfriend, Jane, noticed the difference in my gait. We had just got together, Jane and I – late bloomers I guess. We'd been mates for a long time before that though – about thirteen years. She suggested that we go to the doctor. I had a blood test and a brain scan, AIDS test – everything! A gamut of tests. It was a little bit scary having all of these tests although every result that turned out negative made me relieved that I didn't have that disease. I ended up seeing a neurologist and he tested me for HD. He said, 'I've got some bad news'. And then he told me I had HD. I had heard of it, but didn't really know what it was. The doctor explained what it was all about. Initially my family was in denial. They didn't want to believe it. There was like this mourning period. I guess you go through stages.

I used to be a designer for the Queensland Education Department. I got a position in a temporary role, and then an official position during which time I was on probation and expected to keep up with the job description. I was in charge of art direction and video production. It was an excellent variety. After six years of work there, I got the sack. I had been dropping in efficiency. A few little things over a period – I would forget things about the project, I would be dealing with people differently, those sort of things. But because I didn't know I had HD I was really hard on myself and became quite frustrated. I felt really nervous in the back of my mind. It wasn't long before my boss came up and told me that I hadn't made the cut. It was devastating, just devastating. I loved the job.

Now, I feel happy doing things like playing my guitar, listening to music and reading science magazines. I like learning about new things. Science has always satisfied me. I always loved watching those scientists on TV. They're wonderful because they can transform the world. Always looking on the bright side. That's actually a song – 'Always look on the bright side of life' by Monty Python. It's about changing your own self-talk, disputing the negative. Arguing with yourself and using common sense to point out the limitations of that particular thought. I'm ready to go through the emotions or inappropriate ideas that lead to negative emotions. But at the same time, you've got to go through the emotions yourself, within your situation. It's a fact of the disease.

If I had the power to do anything, I would turn back the clock. I haven't done very many paintings I would love to do more of that. I have always been interested in art and I've got a good eye for things. Emotionally it's a bit of a roller coaster though. Initially, you've got an idea, and you try to make your medium behave in such a way to manifest your idea. It's often frustrating. In the end, you feel good with the result, but there's an initial dread in putting that first mark on the canvas. You want it to look the way you want it to look, so there's a hesitation. But, you know, sometimes, you've just got to take the chance. It's like going through the full gamut of emotions when you're painting. Emotions of wonder, of the unknown, and frustration because you're dealing with a transformable medium. But when it turns out the way you want it to, it is ultimately very satisfying.