This poem is about how things can twist and change so easily and wondering what would happen if we could ‘backdate’ an encounter

Sometimes when I am sitting

Drinking coffee

Dreaming of you

I imagine what it would be like

If we could turn back the clocks

To when we were not pitted and scarred

By the tiny cuts and pricks of disappointment and lost hope

When our eyes shone bright

And we saw light and laughter as our due

not as a bonus

A special offer

But on tap. Limitless

I like to think that if we’d met in those early times

I would have recognised your worth

Your goodness and honesty

Pushing you forward

Shouting “me! Me!”

As i lazily fished.

Or did we need the lows to signpost this high?

Did sadness and pain provide strange relief?


But now is now

And quite how

We got here is not key

What really counts

What lights my heart

Is loving you as you love



I have a confession to make, I have another love in my life. I have been working on another venture and this weekend it took flight. I am now the founder of an arts space here in Stitchopolis. Can you believe it??  Check it out here

Hope you like!

Anthropology 2: art student

I lost my jacket, heels and case

i left them way behind.

I cut my hair and changed my spex,

become another kind.

I left the ranks of the well paid

I missed the Budget speech,

I said goodbye to 9 to 5…

It all is out of reach.

‘These days I google concept art

i analyze, I sketch

i think about amorphous blobs

And starving, arty, wrecks.

im thankful for this change in stance

im happy, but it’s funny

I’d not go back, I’d not return

but, oh, I miss the money.



so many sites, so many forums, so many faces….here’s a selection of the images I posted tonight….

There is no rhyme or reason to my choices, but they are slightly different. The one I am most happy with is the fridge. I love that. Probably because it is the only  “real” picture …  We choose what sides of us we want to show, and we choose our audience. I am interested in finding the overarching audience. It’s hard work fixing one face let alone more!

Notes from inside

Well, if I can stop my hands from shaking (it’s been a long day thus far)  I will give you an update from deep within the world of contemporary art…guys, Stitch goes to Frieze 2015…and, sort of, survives. I’m in one of the watering holes drinking a very abstemious fizzy water and attempting to sneak eat haribo strawberries. Sadly, they are not artisan enough to qualify as art food, I fear. I should stop being so sarky, I’m loving it here really. 

Want to see some pictures of pictures? 

This one is done from receipts, burned and blackened. And from quite crappy shops in Berlin. I enjoyed reading the artist’s (Ariel Schlesinger) grocery meandering so thru the city. 


This one was just wonderful to look at…by Shaoji Liang

This machine by Mounir Fatmi stopped me in my tracks, so graphic and solid but the lines so delicate and evocative. If I had a pot of gold I would transform it in to this, minus commission for the gallery, natch. 

Couldn’t go without an example from my latest pash, the indomitable Ms Emin. I love this woman. Is that wrong? 

And finally, it was the technical ability I loved on this one by Jenny Holzer. It’s an oil on canvas but is so detailed up close. Beautiful. Strangely. 
I have jotted down some impressions, some thoughts. Basically, here’s my list of what I’ve learned thus far…

  • I’m glad I wore black
  • My MoMA bag is vvvvv cool and appears to be an abject of desire in the art world based on the number of envious looks it has received 
  • I’m glad I brought my tech toys, so much to record and document!
  • There is a lot of money here, overt and covert
  • There’s also a lot of beautifully ironed, exquisitely finished garments 
  • Half of Berlin, Munich and Vienna have decamped to Regent’s Park
  • It takes a lot of hard work to look effortlessly cool
  • Black and white is de rigeur whether in typeface, fashion or the art itself
  • I’m beginning to be able to spot an artist by their style rather than having to look at the labels (yay)….I got this one right….

 There’s a lot more but I will give you a break now…my fizzy wate is almost done. One more tip, if you are coming make sure you get an elderflower, lime and mint juice from the Petersham Nurseries bar…awesome. Well, I could have given you an artistic comment but you know me…


I haven’t written a poem in ages.

My pen sticks to sketching,

My words have gone dark.

I’ve not been rhyming

I’ve not written ditties.

It’s brush strokes these days that I work. 

Perhaps I have hoisted myself from the depths

I really don’t know why I’ve stopped.

I think it’s a temporary, interim thing :

I don’t think my thought cloud has popped.

What’s better, a poem or art from the hip?

What’s better, a thought or a shot?

What makes you sit still

What makes you think twice.

Whatever you think, 

Then it’s not. 

Map 1

well, I start my Fine Art MA next week…so I went to the previous years’ Final Show today and had the chance to see what type of work is being done by the current graduating class. I came away with spaghetti brain….ideas spilling out of my head. I do like a shove in the right direction creativity-wise. So I’ve been dumping my thoughts into my sketch book. I am also fresh from a trip to Dismaland, which again, got me unlocking the brain gears. Great stuff. 

Want to see my notes? 

See what I mean? Ideas everywhere! I will do some prototypes and see where I get to. I’d love it if you came along for the ride. 


Sometimes I feel like I have lots of different sides, a human dodecahedron if you will. There is my old professional life when I used to advise multinationals and get involved in megadeals. There is my life as a wife and mother,  even though I shudder at the term. Domesticity is not a bad thing but I find it hard as a job  description still.  There is my role as Parkinson’s person. I will not say victim.  There is my new venture of master student in fine art. I think I’ve mentioned it couple times already.

Then, there is the future, what’s that going to be then? Do I retire gracefully ignoring  Dylan Thomas’s entreaties? Or do I use what I’ve learnt so far, go with what I need to do now creativity wise and mix the 2 to see what happens?

Okay, those of you who know me from my  jottings here, will know what the answer will be. I’m not ready to put on slippers yet.

Unless they’re ruby of course.