The Wind in the Sea Glass Wave
Some days are sea glass days, the harbour delivers up these tumbled shards of lost and discarded bottles, mares and pots, some still showing...
Some days are sea glass days, the harbour delivers up these tumbled shards of lost and discarded bottles, mares and pots, some still showing...
Idling about with my two new rubber stamps from Kyoto, there is a pleasing field of colour with text arcs decontextualised and bits of seawe...
This set of three sketched Kokeshi dolls have somehow been transformed by their realisation in smudgy into a family, the adults collecting...
Is it Sink or Swim? The slightly repurposed pot - t-junction aesthetics- here has free-lanced as a drying rack for a curvaceous crop of chi...
Chiang Mai Flower Markets , on a visit late last year, yielded this condensed field of foliage, a study that edges towards the Marvel’s Gre...
Sometimes white paper is too white, or there was just a bit of board siting around, and so was turned into substrate. The central so-calle...
The uneven but steady reweave of the Firewheel Tree’s blooms, gives the bigger than pixelated assemblage so the one can, perhaps, consider...
The vermillion heart mono print twins. - you will have seen one take up the two wings in the last post for the Valentine Day Series, here ...
And in case you’re the reflective type, below below is the heart above’s other half.
One of a pair of hearts, a mono, or is that duo print, purpose-made for the annual Valentine Day Series which is wondrously in its 19th ite...
go wrap yourselves in daytime doings, lost souls set
Your sighs to soughing in the pines, Piners now mint
Manifestos of maxed up woe, Vampirinas dust off
Your tu-tus, dance, dance, and rouge those pallid corpses,
Corpuscles were counting on you to drain away - it’s your day,
Carpe Bitem.
By Yours Truly
Footnote:
Too silly but hey, there are simply not enough Friday the 13th poems celebrating, and asking for a revival of the Australian Ballet’s production of Friday the Thirteenth.
Ghouls get up, ghosts get going, wraiths of the nights go wrap yourselves in daytime doings, lost souls set Your sighs to soughing in the p...
The small Satsuma vase, circa 1930’s perhaps, with its craquelature glaze, gold detail and lovely cascade of autumnal maple leaves, keepsc...
And then, the crayons felt a little left out, and insisted.
Lately I’ve been making sets of cards, for lovely people that I know, at first this was a by-product from snipages for collages, but there ...
Here the Sea Glass person busts a move, one can imagine the clatter of glass bones, the glazed intake of hte middle distance, the slight pe...
The long narrow ferries of Bangkok’s canals, frequent, bustling, complete with both driver and conductor, scoot along the waterways, and if ...
The detritus of desk, work in progress, bits kept in case, remnants of wonder that hover waiting to be part of the perhaps of something el...
While others shop for gifts, tinsellate their way to Christmas bon hommie, each year I make something to declare it open festive season on my front door. This year it is the Prawn, pink and top-aligned, to turn one’s thoughts to the table. Inside two other prawns levitate like thought bubbles. Then, for dining out ( really dining in )on this theme, one can’t go past a plate of festive crustaceans.
NB No Prawns were harmed in creating this work.
While others shop for gifts, tinsellate their way to Christmas bon hommie, each year I make something to declare it open festive season on...
Arcs of petals, extravagances of style and stigma, umbels and umbels of singular flowers, born on trees or emerging from ponds and water jars, there is plethora of things exotically floral to be found by the side of Wats all over the old city of Chiang Mai. Singularly and collectively tripping the Treasure Meter.
Arcs of petals, extravagances of style and stigma, umbels and umbels of singular flowers, born on trees or emerging from ponds and water ja...
While there are thousands of reasons each crystallised into objects of art, that like thoughts milling on their aesthetics, argue that you...
One of Chiang Mai’s many Wats, late afternoon Wat Phan Tao’s golden spires and golden stupor might well be holding up the sky, this is Tao o...
One gold Christmas Beettle, one small gold Christmas Beettle, will this be it for the summer? Dear small golden thing, deceased, but stil...