Letters to garden makers

Dear Monty, I feel a bit lost, floating in the blogging sea. This all started innocently enough, friends encouraged me to share some of my journal ramblings and so I did. I wrote to you because I have spent a great chunk of my life watching TV, and because I love gardening. I have watched GW for years. What really made me write to you specifically though were your thoughts on depression shared in your book 'The Jewel Garden', and I identify with the fact that gardens can be places of healing. But of late I have found a sense of inferiority and dissatisfaction creeping into my mind. I have just got in after clearing up the mossy grass of its oak leaves, which made the space look messy. It is a bit like hoovering a carpet, all looks clean and fresh afterwards. The messiness is compounded by it being such a small garden space. It was this thought that turned on a light bulb in my messy head, why am I worrying about my garden being small ? Small man syndrome ?? I feel ...

Dear Monty, It seems that whatever cause we believe in there are many more convinced that what we believe in is wrong. This right and wrong, this tension is just a part of what it is to be human. Was the past better than the present ? And will the future be different ? Well it seems that we remain the same, our basic instincts, moods and emotions remain unchanged, even if the context changes. I will miss your presence on Twitter. I think we should all have a voice and Twitter allows for that even if it does open us up to critics. I have been painting and drawing a lot recently due to having sick leave. I haven't done so much work since my time at Artspace Portsmouth. I miss being a full-time artist. I want to confess that I was wrong about conceptual art in a previous post. Why do I say that ? I suggested that the idea being the main thing was somehow the antithesis to beauty. Having watched Tracey Emin discuss the work of Louise Bourgeois and her explora...

Monty, No words today, just pictures taken on my phone of a lovely weekend re balancing the mind. Paul.

Monty, Dreams become like mists that disappear. I have made a painting of the Quarme valley near Wheddon Cross on Exmoor. It is a painting of a memory of the place. It tries to capture the strange sense of humanity - of its human scale - its sense of man and landscape working together. The river valley is surrounded by cattle and sheep grazed hills. The high moor lit by sudden light in the distance - the depth and darkness of the river cutting its way through the hills.The sky with its fast shifting clouds. I'm not sure of its merit, other than it pleases me when I look at it. I have started a series of  these paintings, all fresco (watercolour, oil, pencil on plaster) based on our recent visit to Exmoor. Sketches were made in my journal and used as a basis for the paintings along with my written notes. They are a reflection therefore on the place, and not an accurate depiction. Having listened to a voice from my Portsmouth Polytechnic ar...

Dear Monty, The recent rumblings in the social media networks about GW are probably justified in that it is the only mainstream gardening programme available to those people that still watch a television. Technology is moving faster than I care to these days, so I still enjoy the slower pace of such programmes on t.v. Even if occasionally it sends me to sleep. 'Real' gardeners don't watch GW I am reliably informed, so that confirms my suspicion that I am only a gardener in my fantasy life. Here are a few pictures of my garden that I do not garden, taken yesterday in high winds with our ugly house in the background. There is a lot wrong with it, too much grass/weeds now that it has lost the overarching branches of the Pine. It needs reshaping and reforming, this is all part of the enjoyment for me, like making a painting... I am beginning to feel better, my mind no longer in a negative spin, the emotions balanced. Paul.