April 2012
5 posts
7 tags
April, Standing Back From Blossom.
I wonder if I have a bit of bee in me? I’m attracted to blossom like an iron filing to a magnet. The minute I see any, I have an insatiable desire to get right up into it. Nectar’s not my aim, no, I just want to feast my eyes. Look at the shape and number of petals, the stamens, the way it sits on the branch. The smell of it. Watch the insects on it. Loose myself, swoon at this...
10 tags
April, From Beginning To End.
As we walked between fields of sheep, our game was to find the newest lamb. Just as we turned towards the fell a second twin slithered out of it’s mother, a messy miracle, all wet ears and legs, within a minute almost standing. We marvelled at the extraordinary triumph of birth. These crumpled new beginnings all clean and unwritten. And we left them with our hopes and luck for the future,...
3 tags
April, Miss Back's.
The empty house is unexpectedly lovely every time you see it. Built of soft weathered brick, sitting behind and slightly above a small pond, it must be the kitchen wing of a once substantial hall. Two large double chimney breasts and one enormous triple chimney take up most of the front. Tall and patterned, they’ve been cold for years. A grand porch juts out. Stone carvings of grinning...
5 tags
April, An Unloved Jumble of Plants.
Bored of lying in bed, too ill to want to move, not ill enough to sleep. I decide it’s a case of mind over matter and lug myself outside. I’ve missed three days, three days of spring, warm and exploding. I sink down beside the stream and draw the first thing that catches my eye. It’s a jumble of plants that I see every day without really looking at.
The young monterey pine at...
6 tags
April, Take Shelter in Trees!
Samuel Palmer’s exclamation, ‘TAKE SHELTER in TREES’ strikes a familiar chord. He wrote it after yet another disappointing exhibition, which certainly sends any artist running for cover. Hiding from the world is one thing but Taking Shelter in Trees is another. It’s about comfort. The otherness of trees, their unconcern with the human world. They are just trees, being...
