the blink of an eye

and a borrowed poem

The retreat in Bretagne was both intensive work and deep restoration for me.

Ordinarily at home I fall out of bed, feed dogs, cats, hens and ducks and unleash the latter to revel in their rôle as flower-arranging committee. I manage a few hours work in the studio until I hear the sound of a vehicle in the distance heralding the arrival of my three Polyne…