Water to spare

‘Water to spare’


A dog’s tail, an empty chair, an empty terracotta pot. Anticipation. Lush. Inside outside interaction. Who waters? Who sits? Who is the sleeping collie waiting for?


Yellow wall and red geraniums, green growth of many shades and shapes. Who chose the vibrant warm wall colour? A corner of a cane table with text heavy folded paper. A broadsheet. Who reads?


Can we guess the occupants’ race or creed or country? Could it be North America or Europe? It doesn’t seem parched enough for Africa or most of Asia or Australia. Water to spare for pretty household plants, a collie in the house not herding sheep or cattle. Time enough for reading the Times.


Just a glance at a small corner of a lucky life lifts and heals my heavy heart.


This is an ‘ekphrastic’ poem, ie a prose poem written in response to an image

I have been learning about different poetic forms from Alison Smith who runs the free Facebook group ‘Womens School of Metamorphosis, Radical change from inside out’



Hindu shrine in Namobudda
Buddhist Stupa and prayer flags
Buddhist shrine Namobudda

These photos popped up in my Facebook ‘memories’ from my trip with daughter, Hannah to Kathmandu in 2013

They seem to be wiggling their way into my consciousness

Maybe they might seed them idea for new writing, or a painting maybe

I’m on the train from Belfast to Derry, after a few weeks over in Wales visiting family. Back in the studio tomorrow I hope

start again

this was the repeat refrain on a 10 day meditation retreat I did a couple of years ago in Nepal
applies in all walks of life!

3 paintings in my studio this morning, stuck, frustrated, unresolved



so ‘start again’!

2 new canvases, 80cm square
3 layers, wet on wet, of contrasting colours, oil and cold wax medium
then some different powder pigments
I’ll go back to them later today or tomorrow, when they are drier but still tacky, and work ovee with a roller
and then start again




where from and where to now



where are we from and where are we going
just colour, pigment, wax on wood, like us just matter
how do they develop, where do they come from
and me
where to now?
the life and direction of my paintings is fascinating me just now, there’s a ‘zone’ sometimes when I’m making them when I’m not sure whether any decisions are being made, or if they have a life or destination of their own

metta ( loving kindness )


flags nepal

may I be well

may I be happy

may I be filled with loving kindness


may you be well

may you be happy

may you be filled with loving kindness


may she be well

may she be happy

may she be filled with loving kindness


may he be well

may he be happy

may he be filled with loving kindness


may they be well

may they be happy

may they be filled with loving kindness


may all be well

may all be happy

may all be filled with loving kindness