walking along the coastal scrub in the dark with Peter

We remember the false teeth, glasses and his sightless eyes rolled back staring into the sun.

We walked these tracks when we were puppies. Now as grizzled hounds we retrace our steps. What's changed and what remains the same evaporates and the future is uncertain beyond the dim outline of what lies a few steps ahead. Thats' OK. It is exactly as it should be. We are in the moment. right now. NOW.

Back to the book

With all the moving from place to place. On each occasion filtering out the rubbish from the stuff.

I keep on coming back to the drawing books. studios, canvas, solvents, thinners, easels and the rest are stripped away by mobility and what remains is the blank page, watercolor set and a brush.

I have been working!

is it finished-afternoon calm.
She visits daily and squeaks until I feed her.
Night Mullet. Surfacing once before retiring to the deep until the day has passed.
The occupational risk of working outside and trying to capture the cold front coming across Storm Bay...it gets too wet to work.
Self portrait-perched on the rocks that are piled like prehistoric eggs above the plain. The afternoon storms trail their skirts like a dignified dowagers in procession.
The Sea Dragon-washed up by the premier storm of winter. Kept in the freezer next to the ice cream until I get around to painting it in the book
Ok Ok five months is a bit of a pause; but I have been working in the book-my interminable letter to the future.

About 600 meters from where I write I took this picture. Fishing for flathead. being kept company by the birds.