Few Were The Stars

I love Tolkien......this poem reminds me of ‘twas the night before Christmas” of June,
And few were the stars, and far was the moon,
The drowsy trees drooping, and silently creeping
Shadows woke under them while they were sleeping.

I stole to the window with stealthy tread
Leaving my white and unpressed bed;
And something alluring, aloof and queer,
Like perfume of flowers from the shores of the mere
That in Elvenhome lies, and in starlit rains
Twinkles and flashes, came up to the panes
Of my high lattice-window. Or was it a sound?
I listened and marveled with eyes on the ground.
For there came from afar a filtered note
Enchanting sweet, now clear, now remote,
As clear as a star in a pool by the reeds,
As faint as the glimmer of dew on the weeds.

Then I left the window and followed the call
Down the creaking stairs and across the hall
Out through a door that swung tall and grey,
And over the lawn, and away, away!

Follow

“I do not paint the landscape. The sensation and experience of applying the inks, become the landscape.”
After many years of painting and drawing, I felt I could not express an emotional response to my vision using conventional methods and began experimenting with spirit based inks. Acid free, fast drying and translucent, they hum with a creative energy of their own. They are magical. I love colour, its subtlety, boldness, restfulness and cheekiness. These inks swirl and move of their own accord, but they need manipulation and control to reign in their playfulness and allow me to echo the soul and aura of the subject. Lately I have introduced a textured approach with acrylic paints for the foreground in my works, but have continued using the lovely swirly inky skies. My paintings evolve from my own reactions to the mood and nature of what I am endeavouring to convey. They capture spirit, movement and translate those impressions in a semi-abstract, expressionistic manner. Growing up in Brewarrina, my art has been influenced by many childhood memories of the harsh Australian Outback as well as my overseas travels. Sitting beside a campfire, mesmerised by violet heavens above; striding across purple heath covered English Moors;
blinded by the white starkness of the Antarctica or simply reading a book about Apothecary in my chair - all awaken a desire to translate those experiences into a tangible reflection of my memories. A song or piece of poetry can also inspire a painting, helping me represent the mood and nature of the subject.My studio has been hand hewn from the solid rock face on which my house is built. I actually descend though a trapdoor in the lounge room floor! I'm most creative in the early hours, working on 2-3 pieces at a time, listening to a 1950s station on my old radio. These paintings of mine, are a reflection of that endless quest to record the blessings of nature swirled around with a dram of whimsical romanticism.