I like writing and drawing, and though i’ll never be the next big thing when it comes to these artforms – I still find them helpful in my never ending mission to concentrate the mind.
Whenever i’m off somewhere nowadays – I take my kit of supplies with me – notebook (A5) , pencils and paper, Bridge Camera, SD Cards, travel card , cash and not forgetting – supplies for lunch.
I get to my intended destination – I’ll have my lunch, find a suitable vantage point and begin recording what I see. Sometimes – it’ll be a poem or verse, and others – it’ll be a photo or a drawing. The inspiration comes from what I see. The process, concentrates the mind. As the basic forms take shape on the page – either in word, or in drawing – ideas come alive on the page
When I get home – I’ll play around with the scribbles and drawings. Thanks to my laptop I now have two marvellous sets of tools to turn my images into artworks – I principally use Adobe photoshop elements, but also use Corel’s Painter Essentials suite for its wide range of brushes.
Of course, if I want to use the time to concentrate – the computer gets switched off – the box of paints comes out and i’ll put something together from my notebook drawings onto my painting pad in Coloured pencil, pastels, watercolours or even oils
Beyond the night, a
Lonesome aviator lands
As daylight peeps its head over the horizon, the
Clever little feathered one
Keeps an eye on the lawn
Below, looking out for
Insects, or even a juicy worm
Round the four sides of the garden he flies till he
Dives down, on his prey – breakfast is served
A poem on the branch of Imperial War Museum in Trafford, Greater Manchester.
Another Earth has Landed on the banks of the canal,
Broken in three by the hammer called War.
You climb the Stair
to reach the pole.
As darkness falls,
on earths remains.
Following a line, commemorating time
that has a start – but has no end
Sounds and smells from the past –
They Greet You.
Shaking you by the hand like an old friend.
The plane at the start, the tales it would tell
of its old friend Lusitania – they’ve salvaged its bell.
It’s Just past the smell of sweet poison gas,
you carry on walking and pass the old ass.
feeling your way through the trenches of deep
hoping you don’t wake all the rats that are asleep
The T-34 stands just round a bend,
a stones throw away,
from its nuclear friend,
telling the tales of it winning great battles.
The Cossacks roar out as the tanks tracks it rattles
And the Trabant car from Germany
stands out and tall
as you read of what happened
on both sides of th’ wall
in the windows to attention,
as you read of who wore them
– it is worth a mention.
And you read of the colours,
the flags of the men
who are remembered here proudly,
never seen of again.
And You wear the tin helmet
worn by the men
fighting fires wi’ red engines
in fives and in tens.
You land in their place
and think what would you do ?
As you read of the stories
from wars one and of two