

It’s incredibly remote, wild, wet and windy. But I am cosy in my cottage studio with a roaring fire in the stove and mugs of tea constantly on the go.
There are lovely friendly artists staying in the other cottages, so far I’ve made two new friends.
I will post some images of work in progress once I get properly started. Lots of painting ideas and maybe a few poems to write too.
Standing at the open window
Of the train rushing through new terrain
Listening to the rhythmic pounding
Of the wheels on the shiny rails
~
Yes, I will, I do, I can
I see, I make, with love
Yes, I choose, I go, I try
To fly. I make a leap
~
Choosing the forward momentum
Denying the steel bars
In that cold and hungry
Prison cell of fear
~
No, to halting fearful saying
You’ve had your fill. It’s too late
No, to thinking it can’t work out
You’re too old, just be still
~
Even the old goose still makes
The journey South
She doesn’t wait
To grace your Christmas plate
~~~
Surrounded by the lull
Of the lapping amniotic salty sea
~
On a calm day blue green
Serene as a lullaby
~
In a storm she crashes
And collapses the beach defences
~
Triangle mountain transcends
The violent fickle pull of the tide
He manifests new pathways
~
Pierces the clouds of self abnegation
And affirms my right
To the light of creation
~
Home of the sun god Lugh
Sharp granite peak of enlightenment
Pointer to the stars
~~~