Vibrant oil paintings from the jungle by Clifford Scott Bush Painter

hen searching for true Jamaican artists, don't look in the galleries... you can find them somewhere in the bush, carrying their best works on their pants.

Not far from the mysterious Caledonia House, a deserted plantation Villa situated on a mountain top, Clifford Scott, the bush painter makes his home. Finding him is not easy... from the township of Darliston, accessed only by a steep and winding mountain road. Regularly on Mondays at 03.00 hours a bus departs Darliston bound for Kingston, bringing the native Jamaicans to the big city, where they work for the week. Clifford prefers to remain in Darliston for his workweek, that is in his bush hut atelier.

After only a short walk into the bush visitors come to the humble atelier of this talented artist. Clifford is a painter. Below the palms lean colorful Caribbean oil paintings. No electricity, no comfort. The hut serves as an atelier and a home. Standing sunken into the earth, nearby over a small fire a one pot evening meal is cooking. In the bush, laundry hangs on a line, drying in the breeze. Around the bamboo structure lies a chaotic pile of boards, living utensils and... Clifford's paintings.

Sundown with banana trees, repeated market scenes in colorful blends, loose geometric forms taken from the simple Caribbean lifestyle. As we drove to Darliston, we were not certain that the bush artist is at home. Without a telephone, there is naturally no announcement of arrival possible. We are lucky. Clifford receives us and tells us that he was expecting visitors. During the day he had heard news of a few foreigners, Caucasian's, with a female, who wanted to meet him and here we are. He disappears into his hut and gathers his paintings. On boards and canvases the world of Clifford Scott unfolds, entitled BobArt. Even on the bamboo poles of his home, illustrations of Jamaican male and female forms are defined. Erotic Art is his current new direction, however several paintings were unfortunately not for sale... because they graced the fabric of his pants. Clifford's tennis shoes were decorated with a distinct "Merry Christmas". At the moment, he could not smoke, he explained, which is why he was chewing on the herb. From under some boards he gathered the stimulating weed and a few leaves disappeared between his teeth and praised it's inspirational effect in high tones. "This plant is especially used by International Fashion Designers", Clifford explains. "P o w e r", he drones. Actually the effect only happens after some time has passed (when one chews this magic weed). As we offer to purchase some paintings in US Dollars, Clifford produces an old pocket calculator, however being unable to manipulate such a technical device, he hands it to Frank for the calculation of the sales price. He is almost distrustful, feeling observed, before he slips the apparently seldom seen bills into his erotically artistic pants. Before we depart, he offers a small painting as a gift to the children and we bid Clifford Scott good day, heading for the Caledonia House for a short tour. As night approaches in Darliston, a painter and his colorful creations are swallowed by the darkness of another Caribbean night, in his small and lonely bush atelier...