Sunday, 24 April 2011

Saturday, 2 April 2011


April Rise
If ever I saw blessing in the air
I see it now in this still early day
Where lemon-green the vaporous morning drips
Wet sunlight on the powder of my eye.

Blown bubble-film of blue, the sky wraps round
Weeds of warm light whose every root and rod
Splutters with soapy green, and all the world
Sweats with the bead of summer in its bud.

If ever I heard blessing it is there
Where birds in trees that shoals and shadows are
Splash with their hidden wings and drops of sound
Break on my ears their crests of throbbing air.

Pure in the haze the emerald sun dilates,
The lips of sparrows milk the mossy stones,
While white as water by the lake a girl
Swims her green hand among the gathered swans.

Now, as the almond burns its smoking wick,
Dropping small flames to light the candled grass;
Now, as my low blood scales its second chance,
If ever world were blessed, now it is.

Laurie Lee

Monday, 28 March 2011

Chelsea Art Fair

New works to be taken to Chelsea Art Fair by The Lighthouse Gallery, Penzance
1st - 3rd April

Sunday, 27 March 2011

Today the clocks went forward - a momentous point in the year -  days are magically lengthened,  nights shorter, the dawn and bird song steal in earlier on a building rush to Summer.   Cornwall has been a marvel of powdered sunlight today - windows flung wide, the studio further cleared, brushes and palettes stripped and cleaned.  I have been mixing dioxanine purple and paynes grey with deep brown, vibrant red/pink and sheets of copper leaf.  The magic of Flora day is hovering on the sharp horizon.

Last night we shut off all the lights and power for "Earth Hour" - we lit candles - put away all electronic gadgets - iphones, laptops, tele, computers and sat and read and listened to silence.  Miles slept.  Poppy read.  And I was transported back to my childhood.  I grew up in a home where silence was appreciated like song.  It is an art to listen to the quiet living in houses and I was taught it at a very early age - the shift and creak of floor boards in an old house and the soft settling of coal on the fire - the swell of late blackbird song in the garden and the sad sweet scent of candles.  It is a meditation of colour and contemplation: the room blooms with the shifting light of passing cars and the steady flicker of candle flame.   Nowadays there is always noise - the hum of computers, televisions, phones, washing machines that ping to remind me they have finished their cycle, microwaves that nag insistently that the defrosting is done, dishwashers that slosh and wirr - I love my luxury but am amazed how calm I feel - as if my blood pressure slows and drops and my sensitivities rise.  We will do this again next week.

Thursday, 24 March 2011

Feels wrong to be so angry on such a beautiful day.  Disappointed by the rudeness of people keen to capitalise on one's work and fed up with the incompetence and grabbing, bullying tactics of the Inland Revenue!  Apart from that enjoying the acid asides of my youngest whilst on shopping jaunt after school to Truro which involved a little therapy in Monsoon..

Driving home and ahead and beyond the land is softly golden, monochromatic, the sky melting into the hills in a powdered shimmer.  The bloomy haze fills me with pleasure, summer is coming and the sun dances low on the horizon.  Through the dark tree lined valley the upper reaches of the Fal rise mistily on the left - bright glimpses of wading birds, still and silent in the muddy flats flash by.  I breathe in although I can't smell the cold salt green of water and mud and yearn to stop.