The Old Stone Wall

While visiting Penzance/Botallack in Cornwall last year, I took some photos of this lovely old stone wall and fence. Here is an imagined story about it.

“The old dry-stone wall covered in lichen, moss and bramble,
missing a stone, a clod of earth,
where rooted the ivy first.
Three hundred years it’s stood its ground
a monument too whom?
Once upon a time it was made by a Bob, a Bill or even Pierre,
they placed each stone within its place with patience and time taught skill.
Did they rest upon the ready pile to be added after lunch
or like the sheep huddle from hail behind it in a squatted hunch?
Three hundred years it’s stood its ground
whilst palaces fell and countries were born and named after Regal souls,
but do you remember the men, the Bob, the Bill and even Pierre.
With cloth, flat cap and callused hands which placed a stone to stand?
In tiny gaps the ants have lived, sometimes the bees or wasps,
do they tell legends of a God,
Named Bob, Bill or Pierre?”

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“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.