Hello Everybody, are you fine? I don’t know about you but I unconsciously wait for the Spring and then I’m always surprised when it really happens and all that underground potential suddenly bursts forth so vividly it just makes me smile a wide smile. Let’s have some tea and a biscuit or two whilst we chat…
I have some news to impart to you today… This year I will be joining in Suffolk Open Studios My studio will be open for the weekends of June 15th & 16th and June 29th & 30th so do pop in if you’re around. It’s a little way away yet but I thought I’d tell you now. The Little Houses are Spring cleaning… A very noisy affair indeed with much opportunity for altercations and indignation… Probably I should have kept it under my hat for a while longer. But the most inquisitive amongst them happened across the email trail…
Unless he gets a better offer, today’s share will be on display…
Living on the Edge 231; Self Centred…
Duane sat in the centre of the city in the full and confident knowledge that there, he was also centre of the universe. He towered proudly above everyone else – except for some of the trees, but he was in talks with the local tree surgeon to do something about that…
His wife, Linda, although still living with him, had long since given up believing that she was in any way part of his considerations. He would never consult her about anything, even the things she felt that she knew a little about. As a result, she tended not to involve herself at all, but instead observed; sometimes amused and bemused in equal measure.
Linda could hear the others griping on a daily basis about ‘His Lordship’ Duane and his constant demands and tirades. Unless they benefited him directly, in her opinion, he gave short shrift to their very reasonable requests. When they were of use to him, he would claim the ideas as his own and set about making them happen. He was oblivious and she was embarrassed for him. She really hoped they knew it wasn’t anything to do with her…
The trees knew. They heard everything and knew everything. Their roots stretched beneath the whole city; they knew every deep secret and unspoken longing. And so it was that, with a gentle whisper, the enormous old beech tree began suggesting to Linda how her life could be different. And how, if she could see her way to assisting in the disappearance of a certain tree surgeon, then a movement of certain roots, here and there, a movement of ancient plaza, a split in masonry… An irreparable rift could be arranged… A smile spread through Linda; life without ‘His Lordship’… What an appealing thought… xxx
Pictures by The Suffolk Project