When the night bird awakens 
and sings her song in the dark
And the fog from the hills 
Sends its long fingers winding round the city borders
And bottles chink in the yard
And music wends its way through empty corridors,
The walls of Dresden breathe a sigh
And April's tears fall from the darkening air.
As I lay on the balcony
And lamplight poured through the parted curtains
I heard you breathing soft and slow
And found the quiet place behind my eyes.
Sleep was elusive but I didn't mind;
I stretched in the dark and let sound become the shapes in my muscles,
Forming and re-forming as movement and colour and verse.
Silence fell through the open hatch and into the spaces left by the absence of our words;
In the distance I could here the rain and closer, 
But it faded as the clouds moved on
And once again the window held no sound
And I lay, with my head turned upside down,
And tried to think about how to put this moment into words.


DUSK

Yesterday my tongue was touched with verse
But sorrow came
And now my feelings tense;
I tried too hard to paint
And lost my sense:
I wanted to describe the evening when we left our bodies warm beneath the sheets with covered skin
and leaning sideways through the weight of our affections
found the path
And saw at last the mountain of our pleasure -
Not cold and stark but set, like a gentle slope to freedom's plain
against the softening sky.
And another where we sat in winter air
And sang the trees to sleep;
A solemn word we never spoke,
But felt the music soft upon the breeze.
Oh, my great stone pillar of truth
My languid river
Oh my English countenance
My now or never.
In February's gaze we found respite;
With borrowed flames and soft guitar
We took our custody of the night.

WINTER LOVE

Thanks for these days
And the music we make
In the market square
Where the children play
As our toes tap the ground
And our boot heels jangle
And Mr Tambourine Man watches over us
As we bring the sun down.
Wednesday morning sees the dawn break
And the sun scatters rays to scare shadows away
As I ride to the station
The city awakens
And I think about all that has passed
And all that is yet to come. 
Music drifts through time
And through the avenues in my mind I try
to search for open doors
But the instrument inside is tuned to a minor key
And this book of words is full to burst and losing pages.
Magic arrives in unexpected places
And even in this linear equation we found a way to be colourful
And every day we wrote and played
And people smiled and stopped to listen
And something stayed.
Between the pillars of Berlin's stations 
embers turned to sparks that grew 
and flew, forming the substance of our melodies;
Sound is the flame that lives to sustain
And as we go our separate ways,
Thanks for these days
And the music we make
In the market square
Where the children play
As our toes tap the ground
And our boot heels jangle
And Mr Tambourine Man watches over us
As we bring the sun down.

SUN DOWN

"You have a beautiful gift for the German language", she said,
And I looked at you and I saw 
the words spill from your lungs
Glancing off your tongue
Like fire and ice
Combining.
With love and pain and passion
All of nature's elements pour forth in waves
That break, like salt sea spray,
Over the audience.
You have captured my attention,
Created a window into the landscape
of this vocal currency;
The soul-searching depth of delight in a sound
courses through my body
As consonants pool in your voice box
And vowels sing in the cathedral of your windpipe.
I fell to your words in an instant
Your nouns and your verbs
Breathe to life the evening
And I don't need to comprehend,
To understand is not the first intention
Just to listen as you bare your soul
And with drifting focus, pictures fade and rise
Now a blur to the naked eye
And now, for an instant a flickering flame
And now, as you speak its name 
a sentinel appears
And dissolves once more
Into the labyrinth of your poetry.

RECITING GOETHE

EROS

Paintings of Lovers - an exploration of eros through the practice of painting.

A series of illustrations in pen and ink exploring spaces and containment

EXPLORING SPACE

Studies on Metamorphosis with Fire and Water

EPHEMERAL

This project explores the boundary between art and craft. Minature paintings on wood are transformed into wearable artworks in the form of brooches and necklaces.

Minature Moons and Other Animals

Through the process of art, I connect to history, learning the skills passed down over generations. Old skills, craft skills, processes of research and discovery. I put my body into nature, put my hands to work, occupy my mind with learning and observe in stillness as metamorphasis occurs. Through the practice of art I connect to land and history, weaving my creative process in harmony with nature. I am met with energy, inspiration and creative impulse. In the elements I am alive.

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