Landscape Pareidolia and Lunches (Packed)
A few months ago, I began an ambitious newsletter about landscape. Landscape and story, or perhaps memory, or even myth, since the three are branches of the same tree. Naturally, I didn’t get as far as I wished, in fact, not very far at all. As usual, ambition is all...
The Sketchbook Appreciation Society
Some things seem to come about of their own accord, though clearly a good idea only needs the slightest excuse to happen. Thanks to a handful of creative and enthusiastic forum members, we are adding a new section to the site forum, dedicated to the art of the...
Of Trills in the Night
A Few Words of Introduction: Of late, the time required by my day job has left me with so little to dedicate to newsletters that an open invitation to my friends and colleagues has gone out in the hope that the respite provided by expected guests will afford me the...
Waiting for the Sun
Or “Knowledge Does Not Enrich Us” C. G Jung, in his American travels, spent some time with the Pueblo people of New Mexico. Jung perceived that there was something shared by the entire tribe to which he was not privy. “…the air was filled with a secret known to all...
The Stuff of Dreams
Women of the Golden Age of Illustration: Eleanor Fortescue-Brickdale “…The decorative illustrator has usually literature to illustrate, and a commission to be beautiful and imaginative in his work. He has the opportunity of Rossetti, the opportunity for significant...
Burnt Ice
A Book Cover and a Few Other Things for Later Over the last few years, I’ve been walking quite a lot, mostly along the edge of the sea. For this, several reasons, but principally because the edges of things are the most exciting places. All these diligent hikes, which...
Disappearing into the Instant
Or the Quiet Art of Balancing in the Present Mist is a must. Overcast skies and low cloud are good. A little rain as well, but light. And speaking of light, the one I want is that nebulous light, where shadows are filled, the light that fills shadows softly, the light...
Images Were Magic Once
Or The Need for Words in a World of Pictures It is indeed getting pretty sad, I thought, when I write a text at someone’s request, send it dutifully off (albeit certainly so late it is no longer of any use, or for some catalogue long gone to the printer) and then...
Drawing the line somewhere
Or All About Making Your Mark One of the best ways to go on about yourself, albeit obliquely, is to proffer advice. So, when given the opportunity, especially with a 150-word cap on each snippet, the challenge of condensing something quite nebulous and complicated...
Strands and Broken Shells
Or Thoughts for the Year to Come I think if I had to choose what seashells I prefer, I would respond “The broken ones.” I have a collection of intact and exotic shells, mostly purchased in shops, but they have a very different appeal. They are almost abstractions, so...
About the Moving of Mountains
Or the Able Tools of Patience and Passion It seems we humans have a certain preoccupation with material things. We are continually fashioning them, abandoning them, letting time bury them, and, quite recently, digging them up again. Archaeology is a relatively recent...
Ships, Sails and Faraway Planets
The Forgotten Voyage of William M. Timlin Several months ago, I received one of those offers that cannot be refused. Calla Editions, the fine art book imprint of Dover Publishing, was preparing a re-edition of William M. Timlin’s book The Ship That Sailed to Mars....