I Paint, I Write, I am.

I Paint, I Write, I am.

  What is this vastness I feel here on the verandah, on this tiny patch of  ancient earth, my tiny being,  taking in this scene, this dark  sky, this tree, this duck grazing on the lawn below? And has this feeling come with  a single thought, impulse or act? To...
Wandiligong

Wandiligong

Ten Forty Three am and the mist has cleared. Rain easing. Family of wren’s bouncing on the sodden grassy slope. Feeding. Their happiness is very evident. A silent energy pervades the air. Wandiligong, little valley of remnant Heritage Landscape. My valley of memories....