brushes with reality

A nephew, catching sight of the jars on my studio window-cill (or is it sill?) once asked me what all the paintbrushes were about. “Well, these are the flat ends for straight, choppy and also consistent strokes,

just because we can’t see it…

I am sitting at my table, I am eating a late lunch, I am looking out the window: the light is clear, the sky is blue, the leaves flicker the brightest of greens in the sunshine: it seems idyllic.

from my window

Each morning when I comb my hair I twist any stray wisps together and float them off through the open window in the belief that they will be found by some sharp-eyed avian and soon be lining a cosy nest.

one dot does not a pattern make

A little while ago I was asked to give a lecture on the principles of pattern.

…looking forward…looking back…

It’s lovely to welcome some new small people to the planet – several young friends have had babies this year, beautiful boys and girls, twins and singletons – congratulations to you all!

after a long silence ….

At the start of March I travelled to Mexico to teach again in Guadalajara. On the way I was re-reading Gulliver’s Travels.

the three boxes

I inhabit a very nice, but not huge, flat; I work at home. My life and my work are inextricable.

on the buses

In London the bus is my favoured mode of transport – although it’s slow and subject to all sorts of traffic congestion, it’s easier for a chat and a share, and I like to see where I’m going.

some tales of the unexpected

Recently an unusual morning treat took the form of a wander round RHS Wisley Garden;

currents and cloth

A drifting gin bottle, tossed into the seas in 1886 by Germans hoping to track ocean currents, has turned up on a beach in Western Australia.