They bring the bees

House full of flowers.

The white is full-on elderflower. Knock it back beside the back door wide open to the breeze, imagining that today will go on forever.

The red is more subtle, though still sweet. Honey, almonds, soft fruits. Sip it slowly, feet up, all night to spend.

These glorious wild sweet peas have no fragrance, or maybe they withhold it when the roses push through the house like noisy guests, wait instead for their own moment to shine?

At the allotment, despite the dust, the burn back, crowds of white marguerites fill every sway. They came to grow there. Easy gardening. They bring the bees.

Beach watch

The cormorant leaves no trace on the surface after he dives, becomes a black sway chasing silver. Hands are busy on a scrape of sand at the sea's edge. A sandcastle is told every story. A gull sits close by, tucked in, lost in speckles of stones.

Out on the jetty, a boy throws stones into that place before the surging, where the water gulps them down. There's a woman lying on a futon. Prepared for Brighton. Bikini and boots. Heading into the sunblast, a stickman paddles on a surfboard.

Across the horizon, all day to spend, a yacht edges so slowly away that it looks like it will never get there. A fisherman leans back into his old car seat. Toes the shallows. One long slim cloud drifts, East to West. Neat as a child's drawing.

A running dog snaps at beach wide wave crests. Turns to do it all again. And again. A grandma sifts stones in a sieve. Head bowed. Treasure hunting. Lunchtime over, a crow picks through every stone.

Just up the beach, someone on last night's tide ridge, watches all these solitudes.

****

25th May 2011

If you'd like to read some more of my words, why not head over to The Red Ceilings where Mark has posted three of my poems - Nasturtiums, bird in the reed and No comfort. Thanks Mark.

Drawn to the beat

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So, you cover the whole floor in paper, get out some crayons and turn the music up loud!!

I didn't know that the secret headbanger in me would be in her element when I went to a workshop called Drawn to the beat last Saturday night. It has to be one of the most memorable night's ever, and certainly top of my drawing experiences.

It was given by Naomi Kendrick who is a visual artist from Manchester. There's lots of info about her work on her blog including some video of such an event. The photos are gorgeous as well. This all happened at Fabrica, where I've also done other unusual workshops that I've previously posted about.

I had thought that I might snap a few shots before, during and after. However.......

........I got a bit carried away and 2 hours had passed by in a crayon frenzy with sweat running down the side of my face as I worked before I knew it. It reminded me a bit of ecstatic dance without much footwork. Totally engrossing. In another world. Just wonderful. (That glass of beer afterwards was pretty wonderful as well!!)

THANK YOU NAOMI and THANK YOU FABRICA!!

All these shots are taken across the finished floor. As you can see, there wasn't much white paper left by the time the music stopped!!

This last one shows my work in the foregound with the dark swooping shape and the geometric circle. Guess it measured about 4 foot across. My knee discovered that rather lovely grid cover in the floor which became more and more golden as I worked.

Printed orange

Click while it's still here!

Mysterious that this post from yesterday was deleted during Blogger's big blip. Sadly, the comments disappeared as well, although I do still have them as emails, so if I can't somehow retrieve them, I'll add them into the comment box anyway.

I'm trying again. I might have lost the specifics, but I do still remember the thread!

Bought in a mesh bag from the supermarket with 5 other blood oranges, the beautiful dark speckled skins were no match for this one. Shaded by leaves in the sun blast there's a printed effect on the skin.

Now that I've eaten the others, it's sitting in the fruit bowl with some pale looking satsumas and an avocado which has a rough ridge that reminds me of a dragon's spine in picture books, or the final rocks leading up to a mountain summit.

I'm lucky to have a plot on the edge of town to grow food. All shapes and sizes come home tasting great. Sad that non conformist fruit usually gets binned.

However, there was once a lemon I chose for similar reasons. You can read about it here.

Before the yellow got blown away

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Too long a spell without rain.

April felt like July, with endless blue skies. The Spring flowers seem to have bowed their heads before I've sat beside them long enough to breathe in their sappy fragrance.

But the last couple of days, the skies have been lower and greyer and we finally got what we've been waiting for, with a bit of dramatic thunder rolling in as well. I love rain, but don't much like getting rained on unless it's a Summer storm and I'm heading back home rather than to work! So, despite my need to always be out and about, there's been more time spent indoors.

I've been working at the kitchen table - my favourite place to work if the weather keeps me from beach or hills, with the back door open just a crack when the rain poured down. It's extra good when there's something cooking in the oven as well.

The comment stream that came in response to my last blog post was an amazing first for Inkhaven. Thank you to everyone who took the time to respond. As I said in some of my replies there, Inkhaven was never intended as a place for me to talk to myself. It truly wouldn't be the same without you.

One of the themes that came from those comments referred to the photos I post. No surprise really, as I've always had interesting and enthusiastic feedback about them. So, as I've been thinking about some of those comments, I've been taking more photos inside, which is a bit of a new venture for me.

Obviously, as these shots show, I've been spending a lot of time looking out of windows waiting for the rain to stop so I can go outside again! This next shot is the kind of thing that I want to try again, although that will no doubt be "as and when" rather than any kind of set up. It's taken looking at reflections in a tapestry frame, so the garden is actually way across the room and outside. The houseplants which have come out as dark silhouettes are sitting on a table in front of the window looking out. I like how the window frames are warping in the odd perspective and how the loss of definition seems to hint at memory or dream.

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I guess the multi layering might be a bit like how our minds hold and recall images.

Yes, no and maybe

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The tides come and go. I try to take notice, pay attention to when my feet might find some sand to stroll. Hope that's it won't be at 3 am.

Same with this blog.

Inkhaven first took form as a way for me to get back into daily writing. Once my writing practice found a good rhythm, there was a shift into posting less often. Time went on and it all seemed to take on a little life of it's own and readership grew.

It's been a busy time, lately. I'm so happy that lots of creative work is on the go - writing, music and drawing projects are in flow. I've been spending less time online and consequently, spending less time here at Inkhaven and less time looking at other blogs. But lately, the lovely flow that was once here, has been missing. The sense of looking forward to posting seems to have faded.

April just gone, brought only 5 posts here. There were a couple of times when I browsed my photos, looking for interesting shots. But then I realized there was nothing I wanted to say, at least not online.

Part of what's going on is that there seems to be more and more work that I don't want to share with the whole world. "In progress" has taken on a new value for me and I like the effect it's having on my work.

Here on the stony coast, beach walking mostly depends on your footwear. Yes - you're in that old pair of sandals that curve to the exact shape of your feet and there's a stretch of low tide sand just easing further and further into the sun for a precious time. No - you're coming back from work in smart clothes and your best shiny shoes and the stones are piled high like unstable cliffs on their way East. On the maybe days, it's a case of seeing how windy or cold it is and taking it from there.

That's the kind of yes, no and maybe that I'd like to find again here - an easy way of being with it all and with no sense of having to produce something for these pages or feeling guilty if I haven't posted this week.

Vast skies and seascapes flow past my front door every moment.

***

Apparently, most blog readers read less when there are lots of words onscreen. So, if you are still with me at this point and have any thoughts on this post that are not to do with me funding you through University or wanting me to check out your hot shots elsewhere, please do leave a comment. Inkhaven is suffering from a loss of genuine readers and creative buddies and it would be lovely to hear from people who have thoughts in their head.