Thin Air And sausages - Moleskine Art

Apparently the air around us is thick with ghosts!

He Was A Perfect Fit - Moleskine Art

When we boil down our lives and relationships to their bare bones, we come up with pretty uncomfortable truths. Through the millennia, men and women have fashioned roles for themselves that they cling to even when they outgrow them. The tendency to pervert and abuse each each other has no bounds. But on the whole we rub along from day to day, swinging from drama to ennui just to keep life interesting and give us the impetus to wake up in the morning. Is this too reductive a summary? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

In The Garden Of Eden - Moleskine Art

My childhood experiences taught me that to an extent the phrase 'childhood innocence' is an adult fantasy. Children can be breathtakingly cruel to each other. It goes along with a code of secrecy that would leave a hardened gang banger in tears of admiration. The bully keeps quiet in order for his reign of terror to continue, the bullied keeps quiet out of shame and fear of further retribution. The lucky of us come out of the other end relatively unscathed. It shapes us more than we know. Although I was never a bully, I was sneaky, a consummate liar and at times fiercely self righteous.

We Tried To Be Kind - Moleskine Art

I woke up in the early hours to what appeared to be an angel sans wings, he/she/it was quite tearful begging for the return of he/she/it's wings. The duvet is stitched to the lady's breasts to protect her modesty. I'm still working on unravelling the rest, but I am open to outside interpretations.

A Ghost Had Seen Him - Moleskine Art

I Have Nothing Else -Moleskine Art

Grief is a fearsome thing! And the worst grief comes after the loss( How I hate that word 'loss', a loving mother doesn't lose her child as if it were a handbag or a pair of sunglasses) of a child, you skate as close to madness so as to make no difference. You never really come back from it, part of you is buried with your child. You realise that all you have to give your child are your tears, I read once that a mother's tears carry her child to heaven. Whether you have any kind of faith or not doesn't come into it. In the aftermath you scrabble around catching at any straw that could maintain a connection, and grasp for anything that guarantees a future reunion. On a lighter note, Hope is glorious!

Inmates At The Asylum - Moleskine Art

My humble tribute to the great poet Anne Sexton. Her work never ceases to inspire me ans spark endless pictures in my head that I can draw upon. I can't believe that her works are out of print in the UK, what a travesty!