by Patrick | Sep 8, 2024 | acrylicpainting, art, art as language, BRotS, drawing, oil, painting, pastels, photography, Uncategorized
There was only radio for entertainment for many of my early years. I have written before of how my father taught me to draw. My formative years were spent in physical exploration of woods and fields, making model aeroplanes and filling books with drawings. Aged six...
by Patrick | Jun 24, 2024 | acrylicpainting, art, BRotS, drawing, Environment, painting, photography
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Dylan Thomas With the addition of a photographic record of decay, the four books of images of paintings and...
by Patrick | Jun 22, 2024 | art, Design, photography, Remembrance, Sculpture, Uncategorized
Mary who? I tried to find her in my art reference books. Mary Seton Watts, wife of the Victorian establishment painter and sculptor George Frederic Watts (1817 – 1904), and he is definitely in the books. First British artist to have a gallery devoted just to him, it...
by Patrick | Jun 9, 2024 | acrylicpainting, art, art as language, Environment, Garden, Lifestyle, painting, pastels, photography
We moved to the seaside when my partner retired as she was born in this area and waited tables in a local caff as a teenager, having happy memories of the coast. Her roots were here, whereas my RAF upbringing wedded my heart and soul to England but not to any one...
by Patrick | Jun 4, 2024 | acrylicpainting, art, painting, photography, Travel, wilderness
Now the Turner prize has gone, and we have our gallery back. Still not free of the corrosive Arts Council social work arts programme, but ignore the excrescence on the ground floor, despite its claim using the Bayeux Tapestry to justify the size of its awfulness. No,...
by Patrick | Apr 19, 2024 | art, art as language, Environment, Garden, Lifestyle, photography
It tickles my cheek, this flicking furry tail. I snake a hand out from under the duvet and rub his head. Fumbling, I struggle to see the luminous glowing hands on my watch face. 05.55. Early but light is coming under the curtains and cat is doing the ‘I’m starving’...
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