untitled

pen, watercolour and colour pencil on paper

(8 1/4 in x 11 3/4 in)

untitled

pen on paper

(8 1/4 in x 11 3/4 in)

SOLD

untitled

pen and watercolour on paper

(8 1/4 in x 11 3/4 in)

hla de

pen and colour pencil on recycled paper

(210x290mm)

In progress

watercolour on paper

silver lining

mixed media

(260x380mm)

Sometimes we are cruel and we mean it.

mixed media

(260x380mm)

untitled

pen and colour pencil on paper

(260x380mm)

how to hold the already as the not yet

mixed media on paper

(260x380mm)

untitled

mixed media on recycled paper

(210x290mm)

untitled

mixed media on recycled paper

(210x290mm)

untitled

watercolour on paper

(130x170mm)

untitled

watercolour on paper

(130x170mm)

untitled

marker and colour pencil on recycled paper

(210x290mm)

at the heart of it all is you

watercolour on paper

(258x378mm)

untitled

watercolour and pencil on Fabriano paper

(129x171mm)

untiled

marker and colour pencil on recycled paper

(210x290mm)

untitled

colour marker and pencil on recycled paper

(210x290mm)

untitled

pen and watercolour on recycled paper

(210x290mm)

"Of Love"

pen and watercolour on recycled paper

(210x290mm)

"Of Love" - Mary Oliver

I have been in love more times than one,

thank the Lord. Sometimes it was lasting

whether active or not. Sometimes

it was all but ephemeral, maybe only

an afternoon, but not less real for that.

They stay in my mind, these beautiful people,

or anyway beautiful people to me, of which

there are so many. You, and you, and you,

whom I had the fortune to meet, or maybe

missed. Love, love, love, it was the

core of my life, from which, of course, comes

the word for the heart. And, oh, have I mentioned

that some of them were men and some were women

and some — now carry my revelation with you —

were trees. Or places. Or music flying above

the names of their makers. Or clouds, or the sun

which was the first, and the best, the most

loyal for certain, who looked so faithfully into

my eyes, every morning. So I imagine

such love of the world — its fervency, its shining, its

innocence and hunger to give of itself — I imagine

this is how it began.