New paintings and regular art updates.
When my hubby makes bread,
It’s like an alien invasion.
It’s like the film ‘the blob’
Expanding
Contracting,
Overflowing.
The flour is everywhere,
Brown and white
Two packets of yeast,
Half on the floor.
The biggest pan,
The hottest oven.
Rising up to the ceiling,
Growing like a balloon.
Cooked
Nice with marmalade.
X
I’m still playing,
Don’t want to bore you,
Having fun,
Sketching and drawing.
Finding my feet
In the world of sketching,
Drawing on memory.
Faces imagined,
Can I stop?
Not yet!
She was staring straight ahead.
Looking into the distance,
Into the past or the future?
No one knows.
Staring hard, vision blurred,
Tears forgotten.
Memory faded.
Staring at what?
Old hysteria?
New apathy?
Hidden thoughts,
Was it fate?
No one will ever know.
He’s big and bold,
Not nasty, but determined.
If he wants,
he will take your chair.
He will make fun of you,
Nip your nose
Play with your hair
Chase balloons.
Happy.
That’s what he is….
She stands, arms folded.
What have you done now?
She asks.
Sorry, I didn’t mean to
You say.
I will save you,
This time, she says.
(she says that every time, really)
Looking down from on high,
Looking down on you.
Guardian,
Angel,
Caring
Mother…..
Spirit, life, speed,
Race, jump, gallop,
Fire, flight, chase….
Beauty, bright, canter,
Clip and clop…
Step and hop,
Rise high, rearing,
Hooves dart fast,
Equine grace, windswept.
A twisted spindle,
Stone steps,
Red painted wall,
Chopped and mixed,
Add background smudges
Bend into shapes
Like pasta twists…
Multiply and flip
Till cooked
Into nine squares.
Then expand into four more.
Voilà
Pattern….
On the gable end of the Falcon Works. Visible from Sturgess Street in Stoke.
I see you, Falcon,
Goss Hawk, swooping.
Air sifting between stone feathers.
Built as a plaque of identity,
Goss ware, pottery, strong and sturdy.
History, trade mark, art, bird.
Bird of prey,
Snatching art from thin air,
Your claws knead the clay….
Messy things, trees
They shed their leaves,
Drop twigs and branches….
Make coal (in the past).
Make soil (maybe)
Give homes to woodpeckers
Owls,
Insects,
Birds
Even frogs!
Trees make oxygen, stop flooding.
Trees are important,
Save the trees!
Leaves, leave, the trees.
Leaving the world,
Death and decay.
But like a firework,
Exploding in colour,
Before deminishing
Into a skeletal framework.
To be blown away on the wind……
Mallaband-Brown