The Last Leaf Along The Beach

Some weeks ago Barbra Joan posted a picture of a leaf and its reflection. I could not resist writing the words of a poem to go with that photograph. Barbra then went on to paint the leaf, and made an excellent job of doing so. I recently painted a version of my painting of the feather on the beach. I was surprised by some of the comments made to me about that. What made me happy was that I had at last produced a painting again.


Yesterday I painted this version of my beach, taking the last leaf of autumn and using it. I am not sure if I have managed to make it work but it has inspired me to try again. I think on the next one I will simply have the leaf on the beach like my feather. Who knows I might even have other ideas for a mini series of beach type paintings, and during the course I just might get one that I will say I like.

I hope Barbra Joan does not find my interpretation of her photograph too bad. I apologise in advance for taking her idea and adapting it to this.



This blog is linked to my other.   What I Long To Be

Along The Canal

Along The Canal

On my other blog today I speak of one of my students. This little watercolour was painted along the canal where he and I often ran together. I have left much of the rest of this blog today very much the same as it was yesterday. This watercolour I still have hanging in my home. I actually like it which is unusual for me to say that about a waterclour I have painted.  Maybe it is because the place has many happy memories for me.

A Moment of Togetherness.

The snow was deep painting everything in wondrous white.

Silence surrounded me,

broken only by my pressing of the snow.

Then all at once I saw them,

three deer stood like sentinels before me.

Ears pricked as two sped off in haste.

The other looked and caught my eye.

I gazed in awe into the deep pools

eye to eye we stood.

Slowly he stepped aside to let me pass.

With thankful thoughts I left him to his day,

But in my heart I carried him on my way.

Nor will I forget that moment when we were one

And all of life stood still.

A second that will last eternally.

I thought I would share this moment with you. It happened as I ran through the woods a few miles from my home. I have run these woods so many times and have been inspired by the beauty often. But this one moment will be with me for a long time. How I wish I could find a  way to express it in art.

This blog is linked to my other.    Being A Good Teacher

I Remember. ( No More)

Today I felt so alive as I ran in the snow. I could almost hear the beating of my heart and each breath I could see as it left me. It made me remember the first ever hospital visit I made as a minister. It was very near the end of my degree course in divinity. The church I was going to be apreacher in had organised a conference for new ministers to be. During it we were to make a pastoral visit to an hospital patient. A number of patients had been asked if they would agree to such a visit. It was to last about fifteen minutes, and we were to report back to the group.

I was to visit a young lady who had been in the hospital long term. That was all I was told. I met her, and instantly we seemed to feel at ease. An hour later I left. She had shared so many memories with me. The next day I returned with this poem. It was read at her funeral a few weeks later and given to her sons.

I do not know why, but today I remembered that event, I share it with you. I do not know why but I do.

The Poem.

I Remember (No More)

I watch the drops of rain run down the window pane.

Small river following their unmapped course,

I have watched this window day by day

for long and weary months.

I saw the man with the mower in the summer sun,

and remembered the stacks of grass we threw

in other summer suns.

I remember other things we threw,

the stones that crashed against the glass.

I hear again the sound and feel the fear

of being caught.

Running breathless – hiding.

I have watched the leaves falling from yonder tree.

Watched as the last one held on.

Willing it to stay for me.

I remember the smell of dying leaves kicked with joyful rustle.

Through this “pain”, this pane.

I have watched the changing seasons go.

spring became summer and then autumn

to this the winter of my life.

I remember sledging with children,

laughing, cold, yet full of fun.

No more for me the things of life.

No more to lie and hold my lover fast.

No more the sounds of summer joys

or children’s hugs.

No more, for life is swiftly ebbing on.

But, no more do I fear

for things to be, tomorrow or the next.

For through the pain

I have caught a glimpse.

And seen beyond the morrow.

My heart has heard a whispered voice.

That talks of more to be.

I will be remembered, cherished , loved

By the boys who are yet to be.

I am aware this can be a sad poem but as you can see, I hope it comes back to me in moments of intense joy. The young lady still inspires me and fills me with hope and courage, even though it was some 40 years and more I met her.

This blog is linked to my other.  Living in Difficult Situations.

Cold Mornings

Cold Autumn Mornings

This painting was one of my early abstracts. It was just at the end of autumn and the first hints of the winter to come were visible in the early mornings. I do not know why I painted this but it was the first of many paintings that my fingers played a large part in the creation of.

This painting now hangs in the house of a good friend. I used it as the picture for a christmas card.

I looked at it again this morning and it just seemed to fit the day so well.

This blog is linked to my other. The Rules of Ownership

A Feather on the Beach

A Feather on the Beach

Yes I posted a very similar painting to this one the other day with a poem. I put this one on today with no poem. Why?  Because I decided that I would like the challenge of trying again to paint a watercolour. This one was one that I had painted before and it seems that many people had enjoyed it.

The question for me was simple, could I do it again. I made some slight changes. I feel that I have at least done two things in the last few days. I have produced a work of art and I have got back into my running shoes.

Somebody told me that when you found a feather on the beach it meant that somebody was thinking of you. I find many feathers on the beaches where I walk. I hope the thoughts people are having are good ones.

I am not 100% happy with this work and feel I will try once again but I leave it with you. The previous one was two blogs ago if you wish to compare.

This blog is linked to my other.  A Thought Filled Run

Iona

Iona Beech

I stood upon the lonely beech

alone amidst the beauty.

Cerulean the sea stretched out

to kiss the waiting sky.

Caressing the Dutchman’s cap and Staffa’s distant shore.

Beating the walls of Fingals Cave with timpani of sound.

Bare foot I strode the golden sands

whispering grass atop the white walled dunes

imprisoned me within.

No words will ever tell

that inner beat.

Or majesty so rare.

In that lingering moment,

when time stood still,

so small I felt.

Stooping took within my palm

a million grains of sand.

Trickling though my fingers.

Reminding me that time moved ever onward.

The hourglass of life.

Each small grain

part of the universe.

Each plays its part

and has its place

and so do I.

And You.

 

Further thoughts and words about this painting and poem can be found on my other blog. A Year Apart

At One With Creation.

Feather On The Beach.

At One With Creation.

O to join the whale on silken cruise,

To dance with the dolphin

               and sing their songs of joy.

To soar with the skylark high

                    filling the air with melodies

                       comparable with the greatest

                                        symphonies of mans creating

To run with the deer o’er moor and fell.

Swim upstream with salmon

                                   homeward bound

                                                     To see the beauty,

                        in the gossamer wings of the butterfly.

Dance in thermals,                               

                     silent and uplifting.

  To devour the scent of petals,                   

        fragile glowing colours.

                                                   Rainbows bow across the sky,
 
                                                   Myriad dancing flakes if silent snow.



                                                   To feel the beat

               at the heart of natures creation.

    Throb with the inner pulse of earth.                

Enveloped in its shroud of peace.

For man is oftimes bound on paths            

                   destructive avenues of death

Creating imbalance in his pursuit of selfish gain.

Chi of all being                                                 

               lead us back to green pastures,

       open Eden’s gate.           

That we may sense again the peace.                   

In dominion yet not the dominator,                    

              fellow worker not destroyer.

Then all the world will shout,                              

Amen,                         

                   so let it be.                    



I chose to add watercolour to today’s words for a reason. It is so easy to find ourselves in a place where we cannot help but saying that we are caught up in the beauty of it all. I remember one day standing at the end of the beach just where the track climbed away from the sea. I was talking to a man out walking his dog. I said to him, “Is this not just so beautiful?” he immediately agreed and began to identify places and point sin the wide panorama of the place around us. I said nothing, because what I was talking about was the feather lying at my foot. I had been caught up in the wonder of its creation. Yet birds have many such feathers and each in its own way is a work of art.

This painting was given to a friend as a gift. Recently somebody commented to me about it. I think I will try this one again having since that day look at many feathers on the beach, who knows I just might be able to make an even better job.

I hope you have a wonderful day and that my ranting have not set you off on a bad start.

This blog is linked to my other.  Let All Creation Shout

The West Wind Blows

The West Wind Blows

West wind blows

where it goes.

West wind blows

trees and grass bend to face the east.

From where will come our aid?

As the west wind blows.

Unseen yet all around the winds of change

course through our lives.

Like trees and grass we bend this way and that.

At the will of the unseen manipulator.

The desire to BE.

The yearning to be filled.

The tree holds firm,

its roots deep into the soil.

I hold to you the chi of all,

and in the storms you hold me fast.

Secure and yet still free,

to BE much more than I dreamed.

I have a passion for walking along the coastal paths and the high places of Scotland. If Scotland has anything it has weather that is unpredictable. It is said in the mountains of Scotland you can experience all four seasons in one day. It is a fact I can vouch for. This means that I frequently set out in one kind of weather and then there is change and I am in the midst of something else. 

One day I was walking the coastal path in sun the next it was dark windy and raining. I came home and painted this and another version of this same painting. But the weather does not only inspire scenes of beauty it also provokes thoughts of change, and our place in the midst of such changing beauty. 

Both this blog and my other consider this today.  The Winds of Change

 

Alone With The Wild Waves

Wild Waves

Alone With The Wild Waves.

Alone I wandered the rugged shores,

with troubled thoughts.

Through the valley of shadows

moved my tortured mind.

White capped sentinels high towering

mystic majesty.

Roaring, pounding, surging forth

to gather all before.

Yet gentle touched the breeze upon my skin,

and washed away the inner dark

with cleansing power.

Light in the sky speaks of the light of life.

Behold the beholder.

At one with all around.

As I am part of all I see

and it is part of Me.

This blog is linked to my other  where I tell the story and thoughts behind this painting and the poem I have now attached to it..   Wild Waves and Wild Thoughts

Pools of Love

Pools Of Love

Deep pools of dark umber,

             unfathomable love,

                         forgiving ,

                                         unchanging,

                                                     unceasing,

LOVE.

Every move drawn into the inner depths,

 watching,

                  following,

                                      waiting,

                                                           shadowing.

My every motion.

The world went out,

               they came in,

                         stayed,

                                            forever loyal.

Understanding when all understanding seemed lost.

Hearing and knowing the unspoken words

Silently

             wordlessly

                                    these pools of love,

                                               spoke volumes,

                                                                     in my solitude.

Deep pools of umber Love.

The eyes of my companion ,

friend.

The dark deep eyes of my dog.

This blog is linked to my other where I tell the story behind this painting. I hope you do not find it too self indulgent.

 

Out of the Silence

Questions

Questions.

Why does the wind blow

                  and the flower grow?

Why does the rain fall

                  and trees stand so tall?

Why the hurricane,

                           tornado and earthquake?

Devastation, fear and death lie in their wake.

Why does the child die so small?

The evil man grow old and tall?

Life brings many questions to my mind.

It seems no answers to be found.

I stand in dread.

I see the boat upon the shore.

In wonder stand,

                                 and see.

Not the answers, that I seek.

But an end to the questions that I ask.

As nature takes me by the hand

and flights of  wonder shows.

And in lifes knowledge daily grow.

This painting was inspired by what this poems tries to say. I am not sure the poem expresses well my inner thoughts or the painting what the eye saw that day. But the feeling was intense and a moment I will never forget.

It was  Sharonwho made comment on the first time that I posted this work. She said if I remember correctly that it might make her look at what is around her where she lives. That made me feel good that day because it seemed to say just what I was thinking at the time of its creation.

Sadly it still has no home. But it will always be a painting I remember and I will never paint over it.



This blog is linked with my other where I speak a bit more about this topic and the reasons for posting this blog.    Questions

Apologies

I need to apologise to all who read this blog that I have not posted for a couple of days. I am not at all sure what it is that is causing it but when I sit at the computer I am very uncomfortable. I have a severe pain. I have made an appontment with the doctor for this afternoon. I jus thope it is nothing serious and something to do with my exercise . I hope to return to this and my other blog as soon a s possible.








In the meantime please bear with me.

Poppies

 I thought that it being the day after the official day of remembrance and a few days before all the official marches and parades. All the political manoeuvring and pomp that surrounds such a day. I would do my own simple thing and share some of my poppies with you.

Some years ago at this time I wrote the following words.

POPPIES

I was low, in dark despair,

Caught in the time warp of my own

black and lonely abyss.

No thought beyond my own.

No care beyond the cares of selfish me.

My only thought was why?

Why me?

The beating drum of ME, ME, ME.

and MY, MY , MY.

Drowned every sound

except the selfish hammering in my head.

Then there before me,

blood red in all their glory.

A field of poppies.

The vibrant hues pulled me from the pit,

Back into the reality of creation.

I thought of years of blood,

poured forth in such a field.

Wars fought, that I might have this day.

Free to wander along the way.

There before me in all their glory

A simple field of red.

I heard the birds rejoice in glory

and no more thought of ME.

And in the sound of silence,

the beating drum went still.

And I drank again the deep refreshing joy of life,

and left with thankful heart.

How precious each beating moment is.

This blog is linke to my other. It iIs Not As Even As It Seems

Motion and Emotion

Motion and Emotion

I painted these three small canvases in Spain during my summer holidays. It was at the time when Spain was doing very well in the world cup. The place was full of the red and yellow of the flag and the joy and the emotion of the supporters. It was a good place to be, so much fun and emotion.

I tried to capture this feeling on the canvases. I used tissue paper and cooking foil to create texture.

I painted them using mainly my fingers. I loved the finished works and a further two paintings using the same methods followed on my arrival home.

None of these paintings sold and I again felt that my liking of the paintings must be misguided.

Yesterday I got a message to tell me that this triptych had sold. So there is still hope that the other two will still find a home and be loved as much as I love them.

Maybe it is just that it takes somebody who thinks and looks at the world the way I do to appreciate these for what they are?



This blog is linked to my other. Nothing Wrong With My Eyesight.

Autumn

Autumnal Hedgerow.

This painting was done after one of my walks along the coastal path. As I walked I caught sight of the plants in their autumn colours at the side of the hedgerow. I came home and painted two such paintings.

I really did enjoy painting them. I used thick acrylic paint and most of it was done using my fingers. The other one sold this one I brought home yesterday from one of the places where I hang paintings.

I am aware that autumn is almost over here and that it was a year ago I painted this and I still have it.

In the course of the year it has now hung in two places, maybe I have to accept that it is not right. There is something about it that makes it a painting nobody wants.

I just wish I could put my finger on what it was because as I have said already I like it.



This blog is linked to my other.Now Who Is That?

The End of the Line.

They Make Me Smile

I have been considering this blog for some time now.  I am not painting at anything like the rate I was when I started this. Then I could be doing two or three paintings a week. Now I am lucky if I am doing one a week. The real reason is that I realised just how bad my health and wellbing had got. I was sitting about painting writing blogs taking paintings to inns and while there having one or two ales.

Yes I was selling art, but at what cost? I was overweight by a long way. I was having to use an inhaler throughout the day.

As most who read this blog will know I have got that in hand now. I have managed to run off 39lbs of the weight and am feeling so much better.  I intend to keep it that way.

I am going to continue to paint and hope to find more time in my life to do it. But I feel that I can incorporate the sharing of my art as it comes along on my other blog. So I will be doing only the one blog from now on.

I am aware that this blog has the most followers, I do not know hwy that is the case because most people who comment on the blogs read both.  Those who do comment have become dear friends to me and I do not want to lose you. I would be very grateful if you could come and join me over on the other blog.

I will leave this open for a bit with the link to my other blog live. For those who decide not to jump over can I thank you very much for being so kind as to look at this blog. I thank you for your support and comments and wish you well for the future.

I have brought it to a close with a picture of a painting that sold yesterday and gave me hope that there is life in my art even yet.


This blog is closing down please join me on my ongoing blog the link is below.


The Day Life and Thoughts of Being an Artist and a Barstool Philosopher.

Self Portrait

Self Portrait

On my other blog I was talking about the art of loving yourself. Now by that I did not mean thinking you were the most wonderful thing since sliced bread, I meant simply being aware of your inner worth and being.

To be able to do a good self portrait, I think, takes an amazing depth of honesty. It is, in my humble opinion the most difficult thing to do.

I have, as you know painted others, some of them I am pleased to have done. I have also painted myself and I am not so pleased with that.

I wonder if I will ever try again.

The reason I ask this of myself is because I was asked by a family member yesterday if and when I was going to make a better portrait than the one I have already done.

I am aware that I did not make a good job of this first attempt. Because of that I am a bit wary of going there a second time.

Can those of you who have done a self portrait offer any guidance?

I am also aware that I would never hang such a painting. There seems to be something not right about hanging your own picture .

Now if I had children still small and living at home this sure would keep them well away from the fireplace.

This blog is linked to my other. Positive Thoughts- Not Always

The Beauty of Autumn

The Beauty of Autumn

I walked yesterday along one of my favourite places, the coastal path. It has been the inspiration of many of my artworks and I have no doubt will continue to be so in the future. I did not take many pictures but I would like to share just one or two with you today.

Beech trees along the part of the path that has rightly been called Beech Avenue.

I could not resist this marvellous grass which sttod tall and proud and the white in contrast to the colours of autumn around me.

This I think speaks for itself.

Another of Beech Avenue this I think is screaming out to be painted.

This blog is linked to my other. Scary Faces





Portraits

Portraits

I have always enjoyed looking at faces and people. The face is the doorway to the heart and the eyes the gates to the inner being. There are some faces that just call out to be painted because they show the inner being of a good person.

I showed you yesterday a portrait I had painted and asked if you could guess who it was. I laughed and laughed when Katherine said she thought it was my father. He is old enough to be my father but no he is just my dear old friend Archie whom I talk of often.

On my other blog today I am telling a bit more about his philosophy of laughter and I have used this picture of him. He will die a thousand deaths if he ever sees it on here but here it is. This is him at his very best, making people laugh just by being his old self.

I asked if you could see the glint in his eyes in the portrait? I hope I captured that you sure can see it in this real life picture of him.

I said I was going to paint this, but I never will because I know I never could catch what this is all about.

Laugh with my good friend Archie.

This blog is linked to my other.Laughter In The Rain

The Beauty of Age

The Beauty of Age

I still look in wonder at that drawing that Barbra did of the roots of the trees I pictured. She saw in those roots exactly what it was I saw the day I took the picture, and managed to convey it with pencil.

Today in my other blog I was talking about how age can often affect us, but we must not let it diminish us. Sadly youth often only lets us see in others what we see with the eyes. When they see me out running they do not see the hundred and more marathons that lie behind the runner. All they see is an older man who they could run faster than, if they had a mind to.

I have today added another marvellous picture or two of the roots of trees. I am not sure they would make the same beautiful painting that Barbra created with the other one, but let me tell you above these roots were two magnificent trees. Without these old and gnarled fingers and their years of age they would be just two more trees.

Art has the power that few other things have of letting us see something that others do not. The inner being of nature and of people.

I have also once again shown you a painting I did of an older man. I hope like me you see his inner wit and wisdom. I will leave you to guess who he is.

This blog is linked to my other.Now What Was It I Came Up Here For?

The Apple, Can I Tempt You? (Completed)

The Apple

Can I Tempt You?

(Completed)

My apologies to those who must be tired of seeing this painting and commenting on it. On my other blog today I was talking about an apple tree that I pass most days when out walking and running. It is an apple tree that bears beautiful apples and one of its fruit was the subject of this painting.

I have passed it so often, I have picked and enjoyed its fruit and yet until yesterday I have taken it so much for granted. It was there to be enjoyed. I never gave thought to the story behind it.

How often that is the way of art, or the published word, we take it for granted. Never giving thought to the toils and the musings that lie behind it. The nurture and the care that brought it to this point.

This was brought home to me yesterday by Jennifer on her blog. A painting she has had for some time and worked on had her thinking of a title. She spoke of the work she has had to get it framed and ready to show. Now it is and a dream has become a reality. .

For more on this thought of dreams and bringing them to fruition see my other blog. The Motorway Apple Tree

A Painting in Thought.

A Painting in Thought.

I have not had a minute to myself to sit down and paint or draw since the completion of the apple pastel. But that does not mean that I have not been thinking art. I had a marvellous walk during the last few days. I walked in the highlands of Scotland with my son and daughter in law.

The beauty at this time of the year is stunning. I could not help but take pictures of some of the views. I am sure I have taken the same scenes many times before but strangely enough I have never painted any of the places here, that I have walked so often.

I have added one or two to this blog just to let you see them.

I am hoping that seeing them on this blog just might inspire me to the next stage. Turing one of them into a painting.

Maybe I have so many I can never choose?


This blog is linked to my other.  Oh My Goodness Look at That

Can I Tempt You? - Pastel

Can I Tempt You? - Pastel

You watched as I struggled with the new pencils. Some of you gave me a great deal of help and advice. Some even had a laugh at my expense. Maybe I will be remembered as the man who painted apples with straight lines. You know who you are and even now I am still laughing.

I took a larger sheet of pastel board and had another attempt at the same painting. This time I used pastel pencils. I painted it on white board in an attempt to make the colours of the apple brighter than they were on the black paper. I am not sure that it has worked out as I hoped but I think this subject still has worth for further exploration and attempts.

I have had a terrible time photographing it. I either get the apple looking good or the hand looking fair. I cannot seem to get both on the same picture. So please forgive the photograph I have put on here to share with you.

I am having to head off early tomorrow so not sure when I will post again but hope in the meantime you all feel creative and create a marvellous memorial.

I am not being sad please read my other blog to see the positive thoughts that lie behind this statement.

This blog is linked to my other. The Things We Remember

Rain Along The Coastal Path

Rain Along The Coastal Path

I painted this painting and the one on my other blog some time ago. One sold very quickly and my son has the second of them.

They were both painted from one experience of a run along the coastal path on a windy raining day. I can remember the day so well. I ran out to a point on the shore then turned and ran home again. The point is a measured distance from my home so by turning there I knew without checking how far my total run would be.

I can remember when I turned to make the homeward journey how much easier the running became. The wind was now at my back and helping me along. Oh such joy comes to those who venture forth.

That day I passed not a single person on the path. No dog walkers, no fellow runners and not a single person out tackling the long walk of the coastal path.

So I was alone to soak in the unexpected beauty given to me by the wind and the rain.

Today is such a day and the minute I hit the “Post” button on blogger I am off out that back door to once again enjoy what the day will throw at me.

You also have a great day.

This blog is linked to my other.  Grasping The Moment

Gates For Jerry

Gates For Jerry

I have started work on a painting using pencils, but this time pastel pencils. I know that Susan and Ruby have told me often that it is always more difficult to paint the same subject a second time. I also remember Heather doing a second version of a portrait and at the time saying she was finding it more difficult.

I have decided to try and do the apple painting again in a larger format using pastel pencils. I am trying it this time on white pastel board. I hope this might let me make the colours glow a bit more and the hand maybe slightly more sinister. I know it will mean making the background dark by using dark pencils over a large area, I am not sure if this will work.

I will not this time bore you again by showing it in progress and will only show it complete if it works.

So today the artwork is not mine but for me an unknown craftsman. The craftsman, who made these marvellous iron gates. I promised Jerry I would let him see them.

I was running through a large estate. I was aware that there was a castle, or at least a very large house on the estate but not sure where. I ran up a steep hill by the side of the river and there it was.

I was not sure how close it was safe to go without alarm systems giving warning of my presence. I was aware of cameras and the alarms they were all around.

I took this picture with my cell phone. Sorry Jerry I will make an effort next time to get a bit closer. I am sure the detail is marvellous.

On my other blog I was talking about knocking on doors and gates. These gates were very firmly locked. But who knows?

This blog is linked to my other.  Doors and Gates

Coming Home To Roost.

Coming Home To Roost.

I was told that it would not be possible to upload to blogger at the time that I normally write my post. So I will not be able to share with you the marvellous gates I came across yesterday on the new running route I found. I was so sure Jerry would liked to have seen them. The artistry was amazing.

As I was talking about living in the past on my other blog I added this painting about coming home to roost.

I often watch the birds return from the sea to roost overnight. Or the starlings in their hundreds gathering together to roost in safety.

But our past can often come back to roost and haunt our present. It was this that I was trying to think about on my other blog.

This painting was a very large painting. I thought it was never going to sell and was giving thought to using the canvas again. Thank goodness I took ages to get round to doing it because it did in fact sell and the person who purchased it has had many hours of pleasure from it he assures me.

This blog is linked to my other. Let Us Not Dwell In The Past

The Lilly Pond

The Lilly Pond

If you are not here because you have read my other blog and you are looking for the answer I apologise. On my other blog today I finished with a question and said I would give the answer here. So let me just do that.

There were still three frogs on the Lilly leaves. You see one of the frogs had made a decision to jump but he had not yet got round to putting the decision into action. Now how often can we all be like that, full of wonderful decisions and short on wonderful actions?

I often make decisions, sadly I do not always consider the consequences of the actions and end up in a mess trying to do far too many things at the same time. The other week there I decided to stop doing that. I have still to put that decision into action and here I am sharing a painting with you I have shown you before.

It does however fit well with my other blog. Between the two blog I have shown two versions of Lilly pond paintings I have done. Neither ever will match the wonder of the great Lilly pond painter Monet. In fact the decision on my part to paint this second one was maybe not such a great idea. The first one sold this one has as yet not and may never.

Not all decisions are good ones.

Have a great day.

This blog is linked to my other.  It Is Not Enough To Make A Decision

The Heart Of A City

The Beating Heart Of A City

In my other blog I spoke about this little village at the very heart of Edinburgh. It is surrounded by the city but lies much lower that the city itself. One of the main entrances to Edinburgh crosses over the Dean Bridge which towers high above the village.

It is a little place almost unknown by the majority of even the locals. As a student I spent many a happy hour sitting by the river edge reading and meditating. It has a very special place in my heart. I have to some extent been selfish about this place sharing its beauty only with those closest to me.

I have photographed it often from many different angles. As yet I have never ever painted any part of it.

One day soon I will do just that. I may even venture over with my pencils and sketch there in my favourite spots.

Here today I share another picture here.

Yesterday I had the most terrible of days unable to stop and think at all. I started at six am and was still driving down a dark winding highland road late into the night. Today I am still tired. So I apologise no art today but I hope this picture in some way brings joy.

Oh just a thought about the apple. The markings on this apple are very distinctive and the lines do in fact run up and down as I have shown. I did try to take advice and go round but it began to not look like the apple I was using as my source.

This blog is linked to my other. It Is What Lies In the Heart That Really Matters

Can I Tempt You? (Final)

Can I Tempt You?

I think I will now call this one a day. I wonder if you notice that I have in fact added a signature to this one, the first of the drawings I have done that I have done so.

I know that some of you who have been producing work with pencils for a long time will still see things I could do to improve this, but for now I feel happy with it.

I like, as I have said before the title of this and because of that I may now try this again on white paper to see if I can get the colours to speak more to me. I might also try it using pastel pencils.

Seems that at last I have began to find that pencils and me are not so alien to each other.

When I saw the work of others in pencil I could not help yield to temptation. I hope in the long run my failing to resist will lead to joy and not in the end sorrow.

For more on the topic of temptation look to my other blog. I Can Resist Anything.

Can I Tempt You ? (2)

Can I Tempt You?

Yesterday I was given some encouragement to both carry on with this and to leave well alone. Now give that same option I ask you in all seriousness which would you chose? The wise decision would probably be to leave well alone. If at least one person is happy with something the way it is then it cannot be entirely bad.

The trouble is we always see something that we can make better. Katherine mentioned that she added layer upon layer to try and get the desired depth of colour. As I was doing this painting as a learning process I thought I would go with her suggestion as the best way to learn more about these pencils.

I am using different pencils from her. I am using Derwent Artists Studio Pencils.

I have added more layers of colour to the apple and defined the hand a bit more. I can already see that there may still be a way to go. The good thing is I feel that I am getting a better depth of colour.

I have stuck with the black paper for the moment but may do this painting again on white to make a comparison. I may also take this topic and develop it in pastel.

 This blog is linked to my other. The Man Whom Nobody Knew


Ruby was telling me yesterday she is having problems posing comments on my blog was I deleting them. No I never ever delete any comments so I am sorry if this has happened to you. I am aware that I have not been getting many comments there may be something I have done.