A tiny blackbird on a 5x7cm drypoint etching, pictured in the sun.
Blackbird, oak, horseshoe mini drypoints. I’m doing a series of talismans (I think that’s what I’ll call these). We have sun here, hope you do too, it is soul soothing. And time to manically cram every branch, chair and available surface in the garden with drying washing.
This 👇
A scratchy wavy drypoint etching of the Malvern hills, coloured with watercolour
The Malverns today, in colour and without, 10x15cm etchings.
Thank you!
Aw thanks dude x
Thank you!
5x7 cm drypoint etching of a windmill in black, on ivory rosapina paper
And a teeny smock windmill from this week. I’m actually acquainted with this particular windmill, my clever late father-in-law built it with his own hands. Feel like not many people could claim to have done such a thing.
Pentre Ifan, or the Floating Stone in Pembrokeshire. 5x7cm etching. We visited last summer and I could have sat up there for hours. The pull of the mystic Neolithic. Also, it looks like the Flight of the Navigator ship, so.
Love you x
I stepped in a dog poo someone hadn’t picked up by the garage and unknowingly walked it into the house
A bothy. One of the 5x7cm etchings I did this week. Everything is mini currently, mini is manageable and soothing
Oh heck. Joy and heartbreak. I think I will feel the same. Lots more crying to come, then!
(Mind you, socioeconomic circumstances being what they are in UK, they might reappear at 25 and stay forever)
Mine are 8 and 11 and I’m already feeling emotional about this and it hasn’t bloody happened to me yet! The 11 year old just finished primary school (UK) and it felt very end of an era. I felt close to tears for weeks. Gah, kids.
My daughter very nearly falls in sprinkling them on the little ledge so they can have their own stash away from the bigger and rougher adults.
More ducklings eating oats. We’ll be going back tomorrow for more of this therapy.
I don’t know too many people who dream about the future anymore.
When I was a kid, we all did. We talked about the year 2000. Sometimes with dread. But mostly with anticipation and excitement.
We saw a bright future — at least as a possibility — out there on the horizon.
Holiday soon and although it is wretched privilege I’m going to try to have a break from the news (will fail), because I feel broken. My heart is broken. Have to repair a few of the cracks. We went to feed the ducks and ducklings and they loved their oats. That’s a bit of paper mache on the cracks.
On display in a council meeting here in West Midlands the other night a local Green councillor said, too. This person now the CMR for the environment, to boot. Outright sneered at the idea of attending climate science training, to cheers from backbenchers. Sigh.
I’m v bad at Bluesky so far. Even though it is the nicest social media platform. Still, a new one to me though, and my 42 year old brain is frazzled with life offline (and online). It’s nice here though.
Some pictures my extremely bored eight year old took during her brothers cricket match this morning ☀️
Some bothies of late. These are warm up sketches but I’m becoming abit obsessed with them.
Do you find it odd our parents had this up in the kitchen for so long? The same parents who threatened to withhold any financial help forever if they found out I’d tried smoking? Though I note Da said something about minding less if it was tobacco in the occasional joint.
Brian. 🤍
The maestro has passed - the man was a open heart with two legs - with an ear that heard the angels. Quite literally. Love and Mercy for you and yours tonight .
RIP Brian.
nytimes.com/2025/06/11/a...
Brian wrote down the lyrics of love and mercy for me -
Some folks hitting the streets in the sketchbook
An Austin takes a pootle. 🖊️
Here come the poppies. Sketch from the garden last night
Incredibly depressing day. I've spent my entire life being told by British governments how dreadful immigration is. New Labour did it. The Coalition. The Brexiters. Now Starmer. All of them accusing the ones who came before them of failing to clamp down. The same old vacant mean-spirited bollocks.
Ditto my Grandad.
Having to decide on art to possibly have behind me in a photoshoot tomorrow (massive dread), and while I might not bring her I have just replaced @chloecumming.bsky.social’s mount because it was abit discoloured. This painting circa 2010
