As the game ended it started to rain so we ran, faces wet with laughter, struggling to raise the umbrella we'd found in the overhead on the train. umbrella (cut-up, watercolour 20/07/21)
i heard a man with a dry cough. i saw a dog with a leg hacked off. i forgot just what it was to wake up in a mess of hot cloth. the queen's speech don't cut it no more and north of yorkshire it is very rare. Life on the seashore / analogue collage … Continue reading mess of hot cloth
an uncommon vision 10x10" collage 2020 drawn back to the beach on a wave, she rekindles the flame with night reeds and saucers of bark. and, in the sparks, life arcs and she sees flashes - a path to the past or even an uncommon vision.
the prose she hones (analogue collage 06/11/20 10x10") The prose she hones all winter is wreathed in magic, sex and wonder. Come spring, will she, I ponder, still pen me essays of her darkest hour.
Almost Hallowe'en (analogue collage 6x4") 2020
Tail-end of October, scat rain on skylight glass, the loosest jazz all afternoon. Too soon the window darkens. Perhaps, in Friedrichshain (between the wars), I wonder, or Whitley Bay, for one more season, a matinée plays for someone taking tea and toast with honey. The street lights come on one by one, a standing ovation, … Continue reading Tea and Toast with Honey (in A♭)