Is this a map?

OK, this was a doodle for a project in one of the weeks at college. We had five words chosen for us and had to create characters and situations for them to be in.

Mine were: copper, glasses, bedroom, sarcastic and star.

I’d made a crown earlier in the year for a virtual panto I was in. It was made of card covered in holographic stars. I finished the work, but now we are doing a project on creating a map. I was looking back on previous work and found this. It’s a map I think? It’s not what I’m doing for the project but it made me think about what a map is.

I would define a map as:

Describing a place pictorially with images, or using sound to give directions.

It can be imagined or realistic. Using icons or symbols to describe objects within the map. Indications of pathways or roads, ways to navigate the area. And rules to show whether places are only accessible in a certain way. Exits and entrances. Also is the map two or three dimensional, how is that represented. Lots to think about.

Dappled sky

Washed with Amber and lilac, gold highlights. Twigs sweeping the sky. Painting it with their fronds. Clouds form flocks of flying sheep, running home as night arrives. A symphony of colours shifting as they are viewed. Blue darkens to black, the colour I’d drained out of the sky until one solitary glimmer remains. Then the light of stars spring out. Tiny pinpricks in the firmament. Moon rise. The glow of it shines through a lowering fog. Time for bed and dreams.

Stone angel

Probably soapstone. This little carved angel came from a craft fair a year ago. She sat with an open book, made of clay, sitting on her hands. Now that’s disappeared so she has a small heart made of glass, balanced there instead.

Is she something that requires a votive offering? An indulgence? No, she is just there. Pretty rather than profound. I don’t really know why I bought her, but she feels friendly….

It sits on the slim bookcase that holds the land line. The bookcase that holds nail varnish and glasses cases as well as other things. Not the tidiest house….

Cold night

Will there be frost? It certainly feels like it. The sky has cleared and the damp air seems to be clamping down on the world tonight.

The chill from outside has sneaked in here. I opened the back door to let the cat out and a whole cold layer of air has run like a river through the house. My top half is warm but my knees and feet are cold.

It’s snowing around the country but I think its just going to freeze here tonight….


Fushias in the garden, like little ballerinas, skirts whirling, pale pink over dark pink petals. Stamens hanging down, like little legs pirouetting in a dance on thin air…

The colours thrill. Pinks, browns greens and purples. The background blurs into fluid texture, waiting for your quiet death as cool ice freezes you in withered majesty.

Before the storm


The sky turned orange

Then maroon.

The sun crept under the curtain of cloud,

Sneaking out and staring through the rain.

Rainbows end in the murk

Towards the other horizon.

Light spills, then disappears.

The thunder thrills through the air,

Bouncing from chimneys and roofs,

Clattering slates,


Flash, crash, splitting the new dark.

The storm is here.


Memory 2012


2012….Another Sunday morning, husband went off about 15 minutes ago, and me and the cat are here waiting for the sun to rise. The sky had gone from coal black to a dark shade of Paynes Grey, in fact in the few minutes since I sat down it has lightened considerably….. The cat is happily lying on the desk next to the computer, turning over to have her tummy tickled, she doesnt like being ignored and keeps trying to sit on my drawing tablet that also acts as my mouse! that knocks the text off so I have to reposition the cursor every couple of minutes…The blackbirds were singing in the garden at 6.30, husband went out to listen and one carried on while the other Pink, pinked its alarm call… the song continues high and beautiful, shapley whistles that vary over different combinations of notes…. I am staying up in case his bus does not arrive. One last look at the sky, only slightly lighter, blue grey, no glimmer of sun yet and overcast with lowish cirrus? clouds…thank goodness for the prospect of a warm bed and a book if he does not come back. (It has happened in the past when the bus driver forgot to get up!)