What a wonderful reception i recieved from all the visitors to my exhibition at 'The Custard Factory' on the 12th and 13th April.

I would like to thank everyone who visited my show. Please click on the link below to find a virtual gallery tour with comments from the guest book.


New work will be found shortly on my project blog www.fortheloveofarts.com with updates included within this space.

Thank you again for attending my show.


But what happend when you cant let go, when you cant walk away!

You find yourself ordering stretchers from catalogues, running to shops to grab whatever stretchers they have just to continue with your mark making, because you can not let go.

I made another 8 images of my dad without knowing why. Then I read an artical about Melvin Bragg -in 'The Sunday Times' 30th March 2007- he disscusses how he is unable to let go, how he is constantly reminded, and how he revisits this in his writting about his first wife and in doing so reopend termoil of suffering and pain when before hand he was doing ok.

I could understand this, in revisiting these images i put myself under a tremendous amount of pain and pressure; but rather that than nothing! do you understand?

Therefore I can not ever imagine finishing this project, I will always revisit it, I will always be painting my dad in one way or another.


So as I come to the end of this project what am I communicating with you in these last images, what is it that I want you all to know after being so open when normally I am so very closed.

* How it feels to let go of painting images of my dad.

* How it feels to come back from the blackness of loss.

* How it feels to look back at all the work I have made and too see my feeling and emotions lay naked for all to see.

The three original compositions have been worked into further to aid in their communication and new compositions have been added


After finishing the images I sat with them, watched them, and realised they where not fully communicating what I wanted them to communicate.

I worked further into the two portrates of my father, they now communicate -i feel- the image i see in my head of my father, they are now.