
Cleaved as I am in lust
so close I cannot see, cannot hear
Mouth to mouth, mated
I live in your chin.
Anger and love war in your eyes.
As tears spill,
I drink them
bitter
Bitter in my belly
I lose form and passion,
blind no more.
This one I painted in 2014. It’s called “it wasn’t me “. It’s got a cheeky energy and something of the comic or graphic novel. I am a great fan of Alan Martin and Jamie Hewlett‘s work and many of … Read More
Here’s a little painting I did in the mid 90’s just after leaving art college.At the time I was working from the images I could see on the beach stones that I picked up on my daily walk along the … Read More
The first painting I remember feeling really proud of was a scene depicting a barrel top wagon in a field of poppies. I remember the joy of discovering how to depict the poppy flowers by turning my paintbrush around and … Read More
Some musings on what it must feel like to be the earth massaged by the ocean. While I was having a gorgeous massage the other day. It felt like I was the shore and my masseurs hands were like waves … Read More
Just found out that my application for a research and development Grant from the Arts Council was successful.Stunned, tears of delight and overwhelm.. I didn’t realise just how much I’ve been metaphorically holding my breath awaiting the result since I … Read More

Cleaved as I am in lust
so close I cannot see, cannot hear
Mouth to mouth, mated
I live in your chin.
Anger and love war in your eyes.
As tears spill,
I drink them
bitter
Bitter in my belly
I lose form and passion,
blind no more.
Hideous empty egg your contents foul poisoned by the shade of a formless phantom. baring marks of cruelty black seeds of fetid thought where elemental beauty died.
Under the moon, bare branches drenched in beams of silver white. The early morning mist hangs and drifts through the small woodland and across the recreation ground. The ground is lightly frosted with dew drench. The darkness is intimate under … Read More