Rumble rumble - the sun filtered through the new spring buds of the doodah tree. Rumble rumble - the small concrete mixer tumbles in the back garden. The builders are here still and they say "Rumble rumble - is this door to the left?" Yes, it is. Its rumble rumble - to the left. "Just checking - rumble", he says. Clunk - clonk - rumble - atishoo - rumble - clunk - clonk.
A kind of diary, a log, a ramble, nothing to do with the Flowerpot Men. My life as an artist, a collagist, a rubber stamper, a networker, a dad , a letter writer and a postcard maker. Observations about this and that in no particular order.
I grew up in the home counties around London during the 50's and 60's. Went to several art schools including Southend ,Chelsea and Manchester. Trained as a painter and printmaker but now mostly using collage. Collect novelty songs and old mail art amongst other things too numerous to mention.