Melody Art

Melody Art

I am often asked about  my inspiration; It is life, truth, people and nature in all its vibrant variety. To really portray my inspiration it is best, I feel to say a bit about my day.

 

The day starts with a cup of tea brought to me by my lovely husband David. I then read my very  tattered  Bible, which  gives me fresh inspiration, and beautiful descriptions on many levels……

 

When I ‘m ready, I take Prego, our collie for a walk around Tichbourne…. This beautiful countryside  inspires me to paint and  write poetry…here is one of my personal favourites.

 

Whence I came upon a grove, upon a halting light.

The sun did nestle, hallowing, a tender dove in flight.

The blessed dew  by the breath of dawn, daisies mirroring the sunlight born.

Trees and trunks murmur poppies sway,

blackbirds and finches chatter, worms contentedly play.

A spontaneous flow  of nature softens my eye, and I understand….. the reason      why.

 

My mind is constantly active, with images and ideas about my work, I have so many paintings to paint, I wonder which will be painted and which will remain simply ideas.

To work....

If I am going into the studio, I wrap up warm in winter, or open the big windows in summer.  I love painting in my studio, with the old beams, lovely smell and my paintings around me. I am very privileged, yet it is  bitter sweet when I say cheerio to a painting. However, I have made  really special friendships through my work, it’s so personal to share a painting, it belongs in a way to us both, and others who have inspired it.

 

Pictures  make  stories.... an old car, a person with character,  the  sun dancing on the sea, a landscape or  a piece of writing.  Whatever it is  has to move me, move me to remember. It is then I can paint with feeling.

It may be quite a time before the picture has become really clear enough to paint or finish.....I’m not in a hurry, sometimes paintings are  there, just  beneath the surface,  others take years.  Like this one I hope will be finished .

 

 

 

 

 

A regal red carpet

The tramp stands tall arrogant and proud, in rags carefully planned .

His beard is long, matted and grey, yet manliness is portrayed.

This tramp holds many a tale, tis true I ‘m sure, for carrying with pride; his head held high is a regal red carpet on which he is to lie.

The night is cold icy and crisp yet diligently he has found a good nest.

A lucky find, a nifty theft maybe? However he befell his good fortune on this creepy cold night with its lingering mist, the regal red carpet was surely a gift ..And bet he thanks God tonight.

 

 

Thank you for taking an interest in my work. I hope the subjects inspire your day….  As they inspired mine.