A long walk on the lower edges of the New Town, soothed by the gentle heat, refreshed by the air that hints of lands beyond the Forth, of pine and heather and sea salt. The sky is so blue, so deep. It is a unique light, a rare treat, casting a spell of sorcery and magic, turning the stone […]Read Post ›
An old shop, for antiques and junk perhaps. Treasures once, an Aladdin”s cave, now haunted. It is closed now, cobwebs and dust: echoes of another time, a sensation of retrospection, of dated fashion. The colour of the walls fascinates me, pastel, faded and peeling in places. Signage of purple, darkened glass. I have used some […]Read Post ›
There is something about Brick Lane. It evokes such strong emotions in me. A sense of belonging, layer upon layer of memory, a tinge of excitement. Powerful scents of food, enticing and seductive, curry and cardamom and beer. Yet off the road lurk Victorian streets of shadows and ghosts, the haunt of Jack the Ripper, […]Read Post ›
A bookshop in Amsterdam, a place of dreams, of floating letters and dusty spines, creaking floorboards that awaken one from reverie. Outside trams trundle past, thunderous chariots of light and speed, and above gables, home of gulls and pigeons, witness to centuries gone. A place of magic, of spells and mystery. Scents of parchment, incense, […]Read Post ›
This view depicts rooftops in the city of Tel Aviv. It is a view I have painted before in different shades and dimensions. I find the act of looking down onto a rooftop, and living space fascinating, a secret intrusion, a fleeting feeling of flying. There is a timelessness to the scene too, as the […]Read Post ›
A secular pilgrimage long dreamed of and finally arrived, a place of wonder, of longing fulfilled and reawakened too. It felt so vast, that I could travel for days, weeks even and never reach the end. My own American dream was formed by 1970s dramas, films, books and fantasies, a land of palm trees and […]Read Post ›
The heat is strong, the light bright, the water icy cold and refreshing. A man relaxes by the side of a pool, under a blue sky. The afternoon stretches, indolent, without constraints. The work is rich in colour and warmth. A perfect gift, a great addition to a collection. Christmas is just around the corner! […]Read Post ›
It was a hot day, languid, the kind of day that smells of melting tar and creosote. The red bricks baked, the tiles absorbed heat. It was still too, as I walked through a new neighborhood; I saw the café, a building once loved now empty, and I was struck by the orange and grey […]Read Post ›
A quiet morning stroll in Edinburgh, as glorious sun captures the tops of the Scottish Baronial buildings. The streets are mine, private, to share only with my shadow and footsteps. I smell freshly ground coffee, baking, the tang of the sea, and the scent of Edinburgh waking up. A distant rumble of traffic, the impatient hoot […]Read Post ›
Tucked away in the south of France, in a street that smells of dust and lavender and soap is a little shop, a perfect little shop, selling chocolate and confectionary, scenting the entrance with sweetness, enticing us, bewitching us. As the sacred hour of lunch approaches, the streets clear, leaving me alone in the strong […]Read Post ›
