The Secret Hedge

A Mother will always protect her own as this poet, Walter de La Mare found in 1843.

Through the green twilight of a hedge
I peered, with cheek on the cool leaves pressed,
And spied a bird upon a nest:

Two eyes she had beseeching me
Meekly and brave, and her brown breast
Throbb'd hot and quick above her heart;
And then she oped her dagger bill, -
'Twas not a chirp, as sparrows pipe
At break of day; 'twas not a trill,
As falters through the quiet even;
But one sharp solitary note,
One desperate, fierce, and vivid cry
Of valiant tears, and hopeless joy,
One passionate note of victory:

Off, like a fool afraid, I sneaked,
Smiling the smile the fool smiles best,
At the mother bird in the secret hedge
Patient upon her lonely nest."

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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.