initial sketch of swimming pool
Swimming Pool
Boy Band Member
Factory 1# (unfinished)

Serengeti
Business men leap the road
Like gazelles on acid
Graceful, lubricated on their lunch break
Catching buses like bubbles in jelly, captured for them and waiting for them
To scoot them and slide them away from their grey sticks of peopled offices.
They meet and sniff each other and lollop into cafes where they have
Grass and espressos, and exchange
Bowler Hats (as pocket watches are now out of fashion).
Girl on the bus
With red war paint streaking down her face
Red war paint with finger marks imprinted still
Screaming from the cavern of her knock off England hoody
Giving it THE BIG I AM
On the way to something or other, unaware – oblivious –
To the years of pain that
These marks, these streaks, these trails
Trace what has fallen on the pitches.


Draft for 'Standing in front of a fan' (will be acrylic on canvas)
'Pint by the Window' (acrylic on cavas, first in a series of pub scenes)

New Park, Old Faces Must Go
They cried out the day she was taken,
Despite the fact only the crows would sit by her and on her.
She was a hundred and one years old, wrapped in snakes, a proper Medusa,
Tendrils hung from her like grotesque, extra limbs, all grit and grease,
Warped and eaten by weather.
She pinned for better, summer days –
Lax by then in her hatred of the world, stony as maybe;
She was husked out like a beaten wasp or an airless sky;
She would sit and face the blast
Cradling herself against anything further,
And pitying the carver who killed herself over her.
Shop
Places in front of me
I enter a door
And drop my coat and remove my shoes
Skulls line the walls
And I search for the toys I want the most
I spot the boat at the bottom of the shelves of other things
And I have a moment just holding it,
Cradling it in the folds of my dress, my waist exposed,
I have no feeling in me other than this.
I go to the fish tank and push the ship out
And I laugh
As the little person in it smiles up at me.
I have been working on this week, and and am working on today, poetry and drawings. I draw and then I write, this really seems to work, the process makes the drawings and the poems fuller. I don't really plan what I am going to draw, I just draw and then the idea of what to write comes, and that in turn develops the images.
Something about the combination of art forms seems to make art a fuller experience; this is how I would like to exhibit and collaborate with other artists. Have just found out that I am going to be part of a working exhibiting space along with other artists in the Temple Cowley area of Oxford in the next couple of weeks ... my plan is to get collect words and poetry fragments from vistors, inviting them to draw them on the wall follwing on from each other, and then I'll respond and add to them visually until there is an end piece connecting audience and artist. I don't know what we'll end up with, but it will be a purely creative experiment in development and creative empowerment. Details to follow...