As the shortest day approaches some of the winter sunsets have been astonishing. I pulled over on a rather grim dual carriageway to see these colours. The golden fire of the sunset is amazing but I also love the rich blue/greys to the east.
As the shortest day approaches some of the winter sunsets have been astonishing. I pulled over on a rather grim dual carriageway to see these colours. The golden fire of the sunset is amazing but I also love the rich blue/greys to the east.
My train was delayed on the way home from London but beautiful music filled the space at St Pancras Station .
Tallulah Rendall and her band were playing and this artist was painting as they did so. As I looked down on them with the music echoing amongst the vast steel arches it was a moment of wonder and beauty in the midst of cold and frustration. And if the train hadn’t been delayed I wouldn’t have experienced it.
Whilst I was waiting for my friend in her office I glanced along the bookshelves and one book stood out:
The Korean script looked beautifully alien amidst the other English books. I don’t know what it says but I love the golden shapes. And whilst the language is alien to me – I am reminded that this sense of otherness is entirely relative. As the musician Ali Faka Toure says of his home town in Mali:
‘For most people when they think of Timbuktu it is at the edge of the world. But for us is it is the centre of the world’
As the snow begins to melt here tiny rivers are opening up. These photos taken of the gutter outside my stuido could be satellite pictures of the Amazon or images of flowing liquid methane on one of Saturn’s moons – the laws of physics are the same. The small thing contains the vast and the universal.
Some exposed pipes in the old cutlery factory where I have my studio.
The orange iron oxide looks so organic – like blood vessels and nerve fibres keeping the building alive.
Whenever I drive past this hill near my home I get a little burst of joy – I love the shape of the curve of the land.
I realise with this one I’m almost breaking my self imposed rule about no snow scenes but the shape is the same whether it’s white with snow, deep brown ploughed earth or vibrant with sunflowers; It’s the elegance of the gentle undulation that I find wond erful.
I have a marine aquarium at home and have just bought a gorgeous maroon clown fish that has made a home in my anemone. Here’s a photo of them:
They’re an incredible pairing – the fish is immune to the anemone’s sting and so finds a safe sanctuary there whilst keeping the anemone clean as well as feeding it from time to time. It’s a real delight to watch them together.
I recently used some plaster of Paris for a community art workshop. The plaster that was left set in the jugs. I love the shapes formed by these left over fragments, they feel so smooth and fragile to touch.
I was down in London on Saturday for a meeting in some offices beneath All Hallows on the Wall . It’s an ancient building – some of the stone work is the original London Roman wall. We were down in the crypt. I love the curving brick work and the sense of being secure in a safe, nurturing womb in the midst of harsh winter weather.
Some more words tucked away in Sheffield city centre, this time in a grubby subway. I love the shine on the tiles and the well chosen words – not trying to promote any organisation or product, just expressing a beautiful sentiment in a grim place.