Love Notes

Emotional memories escape
Get them back
Value them
Showing people round
Digital
Roller coaster
Changing the way you think
Let’s talk of our life…Loves schemes .

(null)
To the studio I go
On a Wednesday just like before
Remember slow speed / higher power
400/15 setting for success
Power on, there’s no light its out
One sheet does plenty
Broken pieces still to cut.
“Jills got some perspex& she wants it painted black
No other shade will do she wants it painted black
It’s her last piece of perspex which she painted black”

Yorkshire Heritage

Sat in front of the Yorkshire range
Hills of coke
Flames beyond
To warm us
A flame for us to look at
I bought you a flame
Which describes true loves fame
Rename
To warm us as we walk love’s lane.

I like to draw on what is handy
My heart like yours would melt
As tender love is felt
Compact
To keep you warm is my desire
So, here’s some fuel for the fire.
Black powder from smoke
I like to scrape the soot from the fire back
With you sat in front of our Yorkshire range.

IMG_2725.JPG

IMG_2731.JPG

IMG_2729.JPG

IMG_2777.JPG

Possibilities&Slate

      When is an etch a sketch
      Process priceless
      Without it
      Life is spice less
      Working with the dust
      Reverse
      Simple tools eye to hand

      Plastic paint

      With every fine brush stroke I must be aware of the final result

      I work with a small section at a time this technique does not gallop across a slate .

      Orange,cerulean blue black and white the colours just right

      Shades of grey the aftermath of a great day.

      With each step of the process the painter sees values emerge

      always learning to change those values as we paint 

      Unfolding a surprise for him a challenge for me 

      Working with the Stars not the Wars 

      1.   

      Signposts

      With patience the sculptor works with his bare hands, he shapes the earth.
      The poet with words we can not say but desperate to share our poets pave the way.
      An actor must see someone else in the mirror we have to make sure it is us we see.
      Why is the artist never afraid to dirty her hands with the ordinary materials
      about her?
      Why is the artist able to plod along unromantically with his clay or her textiles or her blue prints ?
      The musician warms the instrument to you
      music transfers the deepest of emotions he speaks
      Freedom of spontaneity
      Invigorating us and the beholder
      Is there not always joy.