by Patrick | Apr 13, 2020 | art, art as language, drawing, Environment, Op Art, painting, photography, Travel, Uncategorized
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying. Masefield 1902 Once...
by Patrick | Mar 27, 2020 | Environment, Lifestyle, photography, Uncategorized, wilderness
I don’t do cruises. That was the theory anyway. The idea that I would voluntarily confine myself with hundreds of people with no escape filled me with horror. Going on holiday with a whole village? Many years ago, as Editor of HotelDesigns, I organised some reviews of...
by Patrick | Mar 15, 2020 | art, drawing, Lifestyle, Remembrance, Uncategorized
My local church is St. Leonards. It is in the centre of the town and for many forms the central focus of small-town life, a focus enhanced by its proximity to the railway station and both our doctor’s surgeries. It has a thriving congregation especially at Christmas...
by Patrick | Dec 17, 2019 | art, art as language, Design, drawing, education, Op Art, painting, pastels, Remembrance, Uncategorized
My Verdun Triptych has now found a new home in a local public school, and there’s a story behind this dating back to the 1970’s. When I complete my degree course I was upset to be handed the application forms for a posts-graduate teaching course. This seemed like a...
by Patrick | Aug 24, 2019 | art, art as language, education, Environment, Garden, Lifestyle, oil, painting, pastels, photography, Uncategorized
It starts with a gentle stroll around the garden, checking signage is still OK. An amble that develops into pulling out weeds, unwrapping convolvulus, uprooting dandelions, tearing out thistles. I spot some convolvulus wrapping itself around the still scented...
by Patrick | Aug 2, 2019 | education, Environment, Lifestyle, Remembrance, Travel, Uncategorized
Just 16 houses and a flint church. I pulled up on the area of grass in front of the churchyard. As I opened the car door the scent of crushed grass filled my nostrils. A wood pigeon cooed and stared down at me from the round spire of the church. A crow gave a single...
Recent Comments