January 1, 2018 § 6 Comments
According to eldest daughter…
- Mud splattered everywhere. Even on bedroom ceiling.
- Barking. Anytime. Especially at night when wants to play.
- No room for humans on sofas anymore.
- Chronic feeling of guilt when goes out without doggo.
- Doggo likes burping in face when feeling full and cheerful…
- Stinky ass farts (not my words, mind), when particularly full and even more cheerful…
- Paw marks on bed sheets. Bits and bobs under duvet that couldn’t have got there by themselves, like interesting twigs, pre historic sparrow corpse, rotting tennis ball…
- Recurrent teenage behaviour, eg. not listening, falling in river, getting stuck down rabbit hole. Has to be rescued so can do it again.
- No Christmas decorations this year. Mysteriously got chewed up…
October 30, 2017 § 12 Comments
That place where a month ago the swallows suddenly left and my brother died. That place where my green valley became a swirling mist and the slow river grew a blanket over itself.
The heron hides.
That place where the bees burrow into the dry moss and I shake out the winter duvet.
I am collecting apples. Wrapping each one in newspaper and storing them in wooden boxes.
I sweep leaves into hills for the hedgehogs.
In the woods the birds still sing. They start early, flittering. After midday the twilight comes quickly and I think only autumn thoughts as I kick through the leaves and turn my face towards that grey cloud that I know will pass.
October 7, 2017 § 13 Comments
How I feel when I breathe in that smell of rain-soaked earth.
When I drink too much and my voice comes out too loud.
When I touch my father’s false teeth.
When my mother’s eyes flickered open and stared at me the moment before she died.
When I close the door of my studio and think I’ll never paint again.
The warm lick of my daughter’s dog.
That silence in the middle of a conversation which I always want to fill and wish I didn’t.
When I regret I am in love.
When I get away with a small white lie.
When I have my hair cut and get bored listening to the gossip.
When the doorbell rings, or the phone, and I don’t feel like answering it.
When I don’t look forward to him coming home, because although I love him dearly I want to be by myself.
When I dream of my dead brother and we smile at one another and I know he’s not really gone at all. I just can’t see him.
And when a poem comes and I don’t have a pencil, so I race home holding it tight before I lose it. Sometimes it’s too fast and slippery and it escapes.
How I feel.
Image of ‘Christina’s World’ courtesy the estate of Andrew Wyeth
July 21, 2016 § Leave a comment
May 16, 2016 § 8 Comments
A few followers have expressed an interest in my weaving.
- I use a contemporary Japanese Saori loom, a work of art in itself.
- I make scarves, shawls, runners, and wall hangings.
- I use cotton, wool of any kind including yak, camel and cashmere, farmed and wild silk, bamboo and any other odd material I can find like hemp, soya, rose fibre, etc.
- All the delicate pieces are woven using an ultra fine silk thread made in Japan which is wrapped around very fine stainless steel. It produces translucent and malleable pieces which can be bent into shape.
Here’s a sample of what I’ve been up to:
- All these weavings are on their way to various exhibitions and perhaps will then be sold.
- I hope to have a website dedicated to my work soon 🙂
- And thank you, Chloe the wonderful dancer, for reminding me to do this! xxx
and thanks for looking…
October 10, 2015 § 6 Comments