My Copper etching- aquatint

Lovely aquatints with intriguing themes!

Paula Lourenço sketching

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#Poetry Derek Mahon (Irish poet)

Brilliant- really getting into Mahon. Love the way in which you have illustrated this poem too.He is clearly a real Francophile.


Reistance Days  — ( prose poem)  dedicated to John Minihan

  • It is good to know about the person to whom the poem is dedicated.
  • Perhaps it wll help me discover some hidden meaning or references.
  • John Minihan is an Irish photographer, born in Dublin in 1946.
  •  The photos are an attempt to document the lives of the ordinary people.
  • Over the years Minihan developed a close relationship with many writers and his
  • photographs of Samuel Beckett show a particular affinity between the two men.
  • William S. Burroughs once referred to Minihan as “a painless photographer”.


  1. I copied the poem in couplets
  2. ….but Derek Mahon wrote it as a prose poem.
  3. I found the prose-form difficult to read and because of its length
  4. …lost interest.

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Things to See: Stanley Kubrick: The Exhibition Part 1

I thought it was an excellent exhibition too. I now want to see all of the films that I haven’t already seen.He oviously worked in meticulous detail

Alex Raphael

Stanley Kubrick was one of the greatest ever directors, so I was never going to miss an exhibition that celebrated his extraordinary vision and the intense attention to detail that helped him make such incredible films. And that was even without the five star reviews from The Guardian, The Times, Time Out, BBC website and The Evening Standard.

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Vallotton @ RA

Well I really liked the Vallotton for several reasons. Firstly because he seemed quite modern. He was also concerned with dramatic situations, like Munch. He seemed to me to enjoy aspects of the city as in his triptych. I thought his self portraits interesting and his analysis of familial relationships. He was interested in making novel prints. I liked his portrait of the famous Gertrude Stein. He seemed sensitive too to the outbreak of the First World War. Fascinating on many levels. Hadn’t time for the other exhibition.


I visited the Felix Vallotton exhibition, imagining it would far exceed my estimation of the Helene Schjerfbeck show, also on display here. In fact, I found the comparison incredibly rewarding (I revisited Schjerfbeck afterwards) and actually changed a few of my opinions about her and indeed the exhibition. On that note, YES I do think blog posts can and should sometimes say ‘look, I was wrong there.’ It’s something that so many fail to do nowadays, like we’re all oh so set in our opinions and prejudices that we never put on different lenses and see in a new light. Well, I do, and I’m not ashamed. I feel it’s enriching to return to exhibitions, especially with someone new, who can lend their own perspectives. I’m sick of singularity. Let’s change our minds, let’s fight, I’m so bloody bored of safeness and being told to like something because it’s worthy…

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Schlögener Schlinge: Austria’s Hidden Gem

Viennese Mademoiselle

Not that long ago I was visiting my cousin in Upper Austria and we were planning a short road trip to Passau, Germany. Since the drive is not longer than two hours, we were already planning ahead of oursleves, including other things that we can do on the way. And that is when it occurred to me – this one place in Austria that has stuck with me through childhood, but never actually considered seeing one day.

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Rising Late by Derek Mahon

Sun on the eyes, clear voices, open window,
birdsong; ponies clop by on the road below.
Whine of a chainsaw, the recurrent roar
of power tools from a building site next door
with crashing, rumbling, safety beep and buzz.
A seagull shadow flickers; harbour noise;
a honking coaster backs out from the quay.
Enter a fly, the vast breath of the sea.

Waking mid-morning to a springlike new year
and a new age of unbeauty, rage and fear
much like the last one, I wonder if
a time could ever come when human life,
relieved of ego and finance, might thrive
on the mere fact of existence. A naïve
hope, but naïve hopes are what open
the doors when January comes round again.

Such tiny houses, such enormous skies!
The vast sea-breath reminds us, even these days
as even more oil and junk slosh in the waves,
the future remains open…

Art, Literature, Poetry, Politics and a little History