Watercolour greens

how hypnotic

the sway of the greens

blurring and whirring

drunk eyes to awake

Sale Fell

Sale Fell lies at the westerly edge of the English Lake District, looking out towards the Solway coast and the Scottish hills that lie over the water, whilst guarding the fringe of the north west fells that so dramatically margin this rugged landscape. It is a modest beauty combining  lovely walks, views, splendid birds (of which pied flycatcher and green woodpecker are good examples) and wonderful opportunities for picnics and breathers.It has an interesting geology with outcrops of pure white rock marking the top like sheep biologically washed in the latest washing powder. It has been the location of films, murders, passionate love embraces and probably much much more. May it long watch over us.

Going green

the landslip of the season

heralds a  coming of green

as the scape of the horizon

outlines the sight of spring

As Time Goes By

Its springtime the birds are spinning into action and song as the migrants return and the quest for a breeding partner resumes. Its time to get the paints out after a serious bout of artistic “bloc” – or perhaps sheer laziness. My creative energies have been channelled into music of late for sure – but its now lovely to splash a few watercolours around and make a real mess on paper!

Too Late Santa …. sorry

Here’s my Christmas card to all my avid readers, Sorry – I know its late but Santa dropped the parcel and couldn’t find it till now …. sorry. He’s been kept busy with a flooded house and a requirement to consume more than usual copious amounts of single malt Scotch whisky … sorry. But merry Christmas anyway and may the spirit of peace and joy inhabit your souls through this coming year. Sorry ……..

Fresh paper, fresh paint

Frustrated by the effort of trying to paint something, I let the paint and brushes guide my work. Quickly the remembered coastline emerges from my collected unconsciousness to take on a form that echoes. Trying not to be concerned with producing something to be hung about or sung about the, art magic happens. It might not be detailed, or recognisable as anything, but it lies in its own honesty as a little bit of fresh.

Spring Awakening

As the cherry blossom

Fills the horizon

The politicians jostle

Daffodils

The coming of autumn heralds a change. The daffodils fade out of the picture to be replaced with the russet siennas of the trees’ lament. There is moisture in the air as the Atlantic breeze kisses our land and the season brings a foretelling of the cold to come. But only a hint, as the warmth of the summer lingers through the fading year.

Selfie 801

Its not really me

just a passing reflection

of something or other

that glided across the horizon

like the wave of a tug

eager to bring home

the Mersey faithful

Bella

Sitting still as loyalty
In the palm of the afternoon
She remains unmoved
By the shaking of the cherry trees