Wednesday, September 28, 2011


And I've been absent from blogging all this time! My excuse is that I was too busy making order in my messy studio to attend to blogging business. The truth, in a more analytical kind of way, is probably that anything which requires regular attendance in a disciplined manner over a long period usually brings out my delayed adolescent rebellion. Well, anyway, I really did spend a long time organising my studio, getting rid of stuff etc. and here are some pictures to prove it. 

For example, a couple of big paintings were cluttering up the floor space so I had the great idea of hanging them (with essential help from dear friend Nuala) on the sloping attic ceiling.

And in this corner cartoon Augustine and long-ago Natalie are questioning each other forever. On the floor is an unfinished abstract painting. On the cupboard door, some proofs of prints and a poster from the NdA exhibition at the Museum of the Book in The Hague, 1992. This is all meant to spur me to leave the past behind and get on with new creations. But will it work?
Above the tools, a painting of rocks I painted in Paraguay when dinosaurs were still roaming the earth.
And I found a practical use for one of my scarves (a Mondrian-ish one) as a curtain to hide ugly cables below some bookshelves in the living room.

To atone for my blogging absence (if anyone noticed!) here is the most wondrous version of a jazz classic, played Indian-style. You have to see as well as hear this to get the full flavour. Thanks to Dominic Rivron for this terrific link. 

Tomorrow is a special day: a few of us UK blogger-friends are getting together to celebrate the presence in London of Beth, the wonderful cassandra, and her husband Jonathan, the wonderful photographer. They've been here a week and are leaving, all too soon, in another few days. I hope I'll have some photos of this occasion to post.

Tuesday, September 06, 2011


This African spirit emerged from digitally painting over one of my scarves photos. There may be more.



Everything visible, no matter how familiar and ordinary, can suddenly seem miraculous when the eyes and consciousness home in and absorb a scene, drinking it in like a bee feasting on nectar. Astonishment - better expressed in French as emerveillement (making marvellous) is the key to creativity and maybe even to eternal youth. Forever amazed - that's my motto and goal. 

The movie option on my new camera gives me a perfect tool for recording random glimpses of activity that delight me by their rhythms and patterns. Here is a video-collage, combining the rain walkers in Trafalgar Square, a street performer below the National Gallery, and a magic instant in Salisbury Cathedral a few days ago.

I had a dental appointment in Salisbury last Thursday - why, you may well ask, make an hour and a half train journey to a dentist in another town when there are so many dentists in London? The reason is too boringly dentally technical to go into but anyway, I've never been to Salisbury. So, after my dentist appointment, I wandered through the charming town, ending up at the deservedly famous cathedral. Its serene majesty is enhanced by the tranquil bucolic surroundings in which it stands. The giant spire (123 metres/404 feet) is like an arrow straining to break free from the ground and zoom up to the stars.

Astonishing to me were the contemporary figures by Sean Henry unexpectedly scattered outside and inside the cathedral. This is a temporary event titled Conflux, a union of the sacred and the anonymous. I didn't know anything about his work and was impressed with it, although the shiny plasticky varnish that most of the sculptures are coated with is offputting. I took a few photos but there are better ones here.