Art pulls Scheed Cole through tough times

Mel Cooke, Gleaner Writer

Art and innovation have served Scheed Cole well all his not-so-easy life. "I have lived a short lifespan, 32 years. But packed into this lifetime is like I have lived 60 years," the owner of the Arnett Gardens-based Props and More said.

Cole goes for the 'wow' effect, his first such moments coming when, at eight years old, he made a toy car from stripped-down electrical wire. He developed on it in stages, putting in a motor, wired remote and front wheels that could turn. Then there was a robot with moving arms and turning head, a laser gun made from eight magnifying glasses and aluminium foil for the reflector, a helicopter with a working rotor but which did not make it to lift-off.

Cole did his first comic strip at eight or nine years old as well. At 10 and 11 years old, he was drawing the faces of the dead from The Gleaner's memoriam page, testing himself by looking at the faces, closing the newspaper and drawing what he remembered. He would also look at people's faces on the streets and try to reproduce them on paper. "I was training, but I did not know," Cole said.

However, Cole, who was said to be hyperactive, dyslexic and have attention-deficit disorder, even as he pulled apart electronic items and ant colonies to see how they worked, was not paying attention in school. He did not pass the then Common Entrance Examination. Being compared to his brother, who got into Calabar High at grade five, did not help. He went on to grade seven, hounded by opinions that he "wouldn't turn out to anything" and should "go find a trade".

Turning point

His turning point came in grade seven when, after being among a group of boys whipped for playing football out of turn, it was announced that a particular girl had passed the technical-entrance examination. By the end of that year, he was second in his class. The next year, Cole was a student at St Andrew Technical High School, from which he eventually graduated with seven subjects.

Before that, though, at 14 years old, he was left on his own with no support or communication from the adults who should have been responsible for him - "left for dead", as he puts it. Miss Tate's dumpling-and-butter meals were a life-saver, her sofa sometimes a refuge, art teacher Marlon Jones a source of encouragement. "They used to call me 'bottle police' when I went to school. The khaki clothes, I was wearing them for years. I was wearing tight pants, not because I wanted to. But I was determined that the only way I would get out of the situation was an education. I was tired of starving. They cut off the light, they cut off the water, I studied by streetlight. Sometimes I put on my khaki clothes, by faith, go to the bus stop and ask, or I just walk," Cole said.

He got distinctions for Art and History in grade nine, but "in final year, it got to me. I stopped for three months. Hungry was hitting me left, right and centre. About three (or) four weeks before exams, I got encouragement and started studying. Going through school was terrible. They used to call me 'beggy-beggy' [and] hide their food," Cole said.

Even after he earned the five additional subjects, Cole said he had to work on a construction site for three months to earn money so he could access the certificate.

But he was on his way, spending six months at a graphics company and then teaching at Balcombe Drive All-Age at 18 years old.

"My first pay cheque was $16,000. I had never seen so much money in my life!" Cole said, the 'wow' on him this time.

He stayed for a year, then went to Mico Teacher's College ("CXC can't carry you far. I wanted a degree or a diploma"), where art served him well as he earned handsomely from creating portraits.

Cole then went to work at St Mary's College and his out-of-classroom art slowed. He did The Aviary and Portmore Country Club signs for WIHCON, then returned to Balcombe Drive.

'Crazy' art

At an art teachers' meeting, he handed out his card. Two weeks later, he was told that promotions company Main Events needed something special for Digicel.

"They could not find somebody crazy enough to do it," Cole said. It was to be 16 feet high, 14 feet wide - and ready in four days. He built the frame in two, paid $10,000 for a 15-minute fibreglass lesson ("To me, learning is a lifestyle that is based on necessity") and the Tikki Mask was made to wow at the 2007 Jazz and Blues Festival.

Cole did sub-contracting work for a couple years, then struck out on his own with Props and More, where "Now, I have over 16 clients who call me at different times."

"It just dawned on me that what I was doing was props. They were one-off, three-dimensional, non-permanent items. It would not be fixed in one location for hundreds of years," Cole said.

But he wants his creations to be fixtures in homes. Cole wishes to mass produce the fountain which gurgles as he spoke with The Sunday Gleaner, to bring the price within reach of many more households. And he dreams of Arnett Gardens' walls being filled with murals and its spaces populated with sculptures.

Cole said: "I look at the behind-the-scenes of a big Hollywood movie and see myself. Maybe one day I want to be in charge of a world championship-event ceremony. I am always pushing myself to the limit."