animals, books, women
Maybe it’s Winter, maybe my age, an embracing of true Self, a combination of all of the above perhaps. Whatever the case may be I find Self more or less cocooning at home. Looking inwards, finding immense pleasure in small household tasks, fixing stuff that was left neglected for far too long. When the temperature outdoors permits I’m busy in the garden, cutting back shrubs to let the sun light up certain areas where I wish to grow a small plot of flax this year, clearing out brambles and pulling up nettles, we definitely have enough of both. The cold dark days see me working in the studio, where the many worlds in my mind become visible on paper, cloth and in The Dwelling! The mind lets loose words, the body the images. I often have a sense that the images appearing are not mine but run through my hand and paintbrush. It doesn't make sense I know, but I have read other artists can feel the same way about their work. Spending so much time on my own means thought trails are follow...
