"Olden Days" -- 19th Century Australian Figurative Landscape Painting.

I had a lot of fun painting this. There is something therapeutic about the detail I incorporate. The work took ages to do, of course, and would have been finished much quicker if I hadn't constantly gone back to it and added a bit of this and one of those. The last thing I painted, before I finally forced myself to say "enough!", was the pigeon on the roof.

The whole time I was painting, I was working out little stories for the people I created. I suppose it's another form of writing, even if it remains only as images.

Thing is, I did say I would spend part of the week writing, and part painting, but that's not how it worked out. I don't seem to have much control in this area, although I did try.

I have another painting in the preparation stage, and I will try to get back to the  novel, really I will. It's just so much fun watching my pictures emerge on the canvas.

And writing, particularly in the revision stage, can be downright frustrating.


In closing -- nothing to do with art or literature -- a very mischievous cockatoo cruelly destroyed a plant I was nurturing in a pot in my garden. My "Silvery Moon" Convulvulus had survived our drought and the cold winter, and promised to bloom soon. It is, after all, nearly spring here. But when I took my coffee outside just now, I saw the remains of the plant scattered around the pot. All that's left in the soil is a stump.

I've put most of the stems in water and the twiggier bits in a small pot of soil -- perhaps they will root. As this sort of thing has happened before, I'm not too shocked, but it is a shame that for the first time in ages we are about to have a good solid rain spell. The convulvulus would have loved that.

Oh, if any of you can recommend a plant that these naughty birds would never touch, please let me know. I was thinking of chilli peppers. Probably too harsh. I used to enjoy cockies in my garden but I think they've outstayed their welcome.

Until next time.

Preparing to Paint Again. Thanks, Squeakie.

I'm thinking of getting back to my painting. It's been a long, long time, as I've been writing almost nonstop for the last few years. In fact, I've completed three more novels since that last picture in 2008. But it's time to get back to it. The new novel (my fifth) is resisting me, and my agent has yet to find a publisher for the first book, so I'll take this down time to do something more immediate.

I have yet to buy canvases, and I doubt my paint supply is still viable, but I've started sketching out some ideas, and hope to have something to show you soon.

Just for interest's sake, I thought I would post pictures of my work as I go. Perhaps not with every painting, but with the first couple, at least. Perhaps my regeneration will spur you on, too. We should use all the gifts we have, I know. I must try to remember this in future.

My old friend, Squeakie Stone, has produced dozens and dozens of paintings during the time I've been writing. He's constantly adding to the list of galleries who lovingly display his work. Each time he emails, he asks if I'm painting yet. He's responsible, in part, for my decision to get back to my brushes.

As they say, I'll keep you posted.

Thanks, Squeakie.