Playing 


“We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.”

~ George Bernard Shaw

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don’t stop  😉

Another Monday Thing


This Monday’s thing was folding.I like the way that colors puddle and travel along the folds.

(I say that like every Monday has a special ‘thing’. It doesn’t. I am fond of Mondays though.)

It’s popular to have a strong dislike for Mondays. They signify the end of the weekend (which we are supposed to enjoy) and the start of the working week (which we are not)

But I like Mondays. I guess cos I don’t bear a huge grudge against working. I like the feel of ‘starting over’ that Monday’s have.

But it would surely be a dull world if we all felt the same way bout stuff 😉

This thing


The things with the dyed paper, the cut outs and torn edges, the outlining and the doodlings. The purple and orange thing that’s a little shiny in places. This thing here…

a nothing nother monday


Monday was a nothingy day. A nother nothingy day.

I guess that was just on the surface, a mood, as my subconcious chose these deep sumptuous colors to illustrate Monday’s page. So there must have been more than nothing in there somewhere 😉


I hold my hands up. I have no knowledge of how these pages develop or from whence the imagery appears. I’m just the conduit; the vehicle.