Things Are Not Always As They Seem.

The Categorical Imperative

Much of our news broadcasts and newsprint is taken up at present with one story. A well known DJ who was famous not only for the TV shows he presented but also for the seemingly good works he did. He raised millions for charity and offered his personal service in many ways. He was knighted, which put him up there among the “elite” of society.

It now turns out that all the while he was also using his fame to abuse young girls.

I want to say no more about that here, because that is not the purpose of my blog. I speak of it merely as a reminder that not all things are always as they seem. In truth so often if something seems to good to be true, you can be sure it is just that.

This reminds me of the tale of the two travelling angels. One evening they stopped at the home of a wealthy family. The family treated them rudely and refused to let them stay in the guest room, instead they had to sleep  in a cold basement.

As they made their beds on the hard cold floor, the older angel saw a hole in the wall and repaired it.

When the younger angel asked why, the older angel replied, “things are not always as they seem.”

The next night the two came to rest in the home of a poor family, who treated them with the greatest of respect. After sharing what little food they had the angels were allowed to sleep in their bed, where they had a comfortable night.”Ehen we stayed in the basement I noticed there was loads of gold hidden in that holein the wall. Since the owner was so obsessed with greed and unwilling to share, I sealed the hole so he would never find it.”

The next morning they found the couple in tears. Their only cow lay dead in the field.

As the two journeyed on it became obvious the younger one was angry. Eventually she said, “Why did you let that happen?” “The first man had everything , and yet you still helped him. The second family had little but were willing to share, and you let their cow die.”

“Things are not always as they seem,” said the older. When we stayed in the basement I noticed there was loads of gold hidden in that hole in the wall. Since the owner was so obsessed with greed and unwilling to share, I sealed the hole so he would never find it.”

“Then last night as we slept in the farmers bed, the angel of death came for his wife. I persuaded her to take the cow instead.

Things are not always as they seem.

This blog is linked to my other. The categorical Imperative.

Creating Opportunity

The Warriors Head Out

Before I begin this blog let me apologise to my readers. I normally make sure that my blog has a little something that can be taken away by most people. Today I have one person in mind as I write. A dear friend has what we in Scotland call a chip of feeling inadequate on her shoulder. Or simply a chip on her shoulder that she is just not good enough. This is for that friend.

An enterprising and successful person is one who comes across a pile of scrap metal and sees the making of a wonderful sculpture. An enterprising person is one who drives through an old decrepit part of town and sees the ideal spot to place that creation. An enterprising person is one who sees opportunity in all areas of life.

To be enterprising is to keep your eyes open and your mind active. It's to be skilled enough, confident enough, creative enough and disciplined enough to seize opportunities that present themselves... regardless of the economy.

A person with an enterprising attitude says, "Find out what you can before action is taken." Do your homework. Do the research. Be prepared. Be resourceful. Do all you can in preparation of what's to come.

Enterprising people always see the future in the present. Enterprising people always find a way to take advantage of a situation, not be burdened by it. And enterprising people aren't lazy. They don't wait for opportunities to come to them they go after the opportunities. Enterprise means always finding a way to keep yourself actively working toward your ambition.

Enterprise is two things. The first is creativity. You need creativity to see what's out there and to shape it to your advantage. You need creativity to look at the world a little differently. You need creativity to take a different approach, to be different.

What goes hand-in-hand with the creativity of enterprise is the second requirement: the courage to be creative. You need courage to see things differently, courage to go against the crowd, courage to take a different approach, courage to stand alone if you have to, and courage to choose activity over inactivity.

And lastly, being enterprising doesn't just relate to the ability to make money, in fact it often has nothing to do with money. Being enterprising also means feeling good enough about yourself, having enough self worth to want to seek advantages and opportunities that will make a difference in your future. And by doing so you will increase your confidence, your courage, you’re creativity and your self-worth, your enterprising nature.

There are always many people who invite you to feel miserable, always remember you do not have to accept the invitation.

This blog is linked to my other:  The Warriors Head Out 

Let All Creation Shout.

 Yesterday I walked along my coastal path, how I had missed being there, seeing and hearing the waves. It was a cold day even though the sun was shining. I stopped to listen to the sound of the waves as they kissed the shore. It was good to be alive. There is indeed something worthy of being aware of our fragility.

I came home feeling that it was so silly of me to be complaining that I cannot at present run, I can at least still walk, and my trainers are cleaned and dry and ready for the day when I will once again slip them on. You would really think that after all I have lived through over the many years I would have by now learned patience.

The wonder of my day was only tarnished slightly by two things I learned later in the day.

I learned that we have now become so obsessed with celebrity that more and more young people are committing suicide, or attempting to, because they are not famous or a celebrity. The biggest selling magazines and books are those dealing with the lives of celebrities, even if their own claim to fame was that they appeared on a reality television show. I found that so sad that I wanted to scream, "You are of worth because you are You, not because you want to be somebody else."

Later I watched a programme about the selling of bottled water, and the effort that companies put into making their water a market leader. How they have convinced us that we need something that in reality we could well live without, especially here in Scotland where we have water in abundance. As I walk I frequently drink from springs and rivers and I have never tasted water from a plastic bottle that could taste so beautiful. Yet we are importing water in plastic bottles from USA and the continent.

Meanwhile, children are dying for the lack of water in two thirds of the world.

I will now get off my pulpit and remember again the joy of my walk, and the sound of the sea.

On my other blog I will share some thoughts on an artwork painted after such a walk and the words I wrote yesterday at the end of my walk.  At One With Creation

Obstacles Along The Way

As I ran yesterday I noticed something we have probably all witnessed a hundred times. The traffic on the main road was slowing, almost to a standstill at some stages. It could be for many reasons. Sheer volume of traffic can often be the case. Or it can be caused by those who are trying to jump the queue and forcing their way back into the traffic further on. Selfish actions may on some occasions help one at the cost of the many. It was Katherine who earlier drew my attention to those whose lives as so important that even passing a car or two makes them feel so much better.

As I approached the bottleneck I could see the cause of the problem. On the roadway was something that had fallen from the back of a lorry. Two lanes of traffic had to push together into one lane to avoid the hazard. This in turn slowed down those behind. Nerves were getting frayed, horns were being hit. Chaos abounded.

Now here is the really interesting thing. I was able to walk out into the road and lift the obstacle to the side with very little effort. Of course my run was not nearly as important as there getting to their place of work, or their meetings.

Did anybody take a second to thank me? I will leave you to work out the very difficult answer to that question. It would have taken any one of the drivers two minutes to put on hazard lights, get out of the car and do as I had done. Far to simple I suppose.

This reminded me of the story of the King and the boulder.

In ancient times, a King had a boulder placed on a roadway. Then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock. Some of the king's wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed the King for not keeping the roads clear, but none did anything about getting the stone out of the way.

Then a peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. Upon approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone to the side of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded. After the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the boulder had been. The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the King indicating that the gold was for the person who removed the boulder from the roadway.

That day the peasant learned a lesson that some of us never seem to learn.

Every obstacle presents an opportunity to improve our condition.

I can think of so many times in my life when I thought that things could never be worse than they were. From the difficulties lessons were learned and experiences gained. Some small; some momentous, but each obstacle a point of learning.

I will say a bit more about this on my other blog. I Think It is Almost There

I Am Seeking The Truth

I was sitting yesterday starting to prepare to do another drawing, I had the paper, an eraser and two pencils. I had to laugh to myself. Is this all I am going to use to produce what I would hope to call a work of art? It was, and I hope to produce something that I might one day share with you. So I made a start. After being engrossed for an hour, I had not achieved a great deal. but there was at least something on the white surface.

I am so used to having to prepare so many things before starting on a painting and then working fast and after an hour having something to show. Something that will look like a picture.

As I sat and looked I remembered a lovely story I gathered on my journey through life. It is the story of the man who was seeking the truth of life.

After years of searching, the seeker was told to go to a cave, in which he would find a well. 'Ask the well what is truth', he was advised, 'and the well will reveal it to you'. Having found the well, the seeker asked that most fundamental question. And from the depths came the answer, “Go to the village crossroad: there you shall find what you are seeking.”

Full of hope and anticipation the man ran to the crossroad to find only three rather uninteresting shops. One shop was selling pieces of metal, another sold wood, and thin wires were for sale in the third. Nothing and no one there seemed to have much to do with the revelation of truth.

Disappointed, the seeker returned to the well to demand an explanation, but he was told only, 'You will understand in the future.' When the man protested, all he got in return were the echoes of his own shouts. Indignant for having been made a fool of - or so he thought at the time - the seeker continued his wanderings in search of truth. As years went by, the memory of his experience at the well gradually faded until one night, while he was walking in the moonlight, the sound of sitar music caught his attention. It was wonderful music and it was played with great mastery and inspiration.

Profoundly moved, the truth seeker felt drawn towards the player. He looked at the fingers dancing over the strings. He became aware of the sitar itself. And then suddenly he exploded in a cry of joyous recognition: the sitar was made out of wires and pieces of metal and wood just like those he had once seen in the three stores and had thought it to be without any particular significance.

At last he understood the message of the well: we have already been given everything we need: our task is to assemble and use it in the appropriate way. Nothing is meaningful so long as we perceive only separate fragments. But as soon as the fragments come together into a synthesis, a new entity emerges, whose nature we could not have foreseen by considering the fragments alone.

This is the way of the Tao.



I hope this is the start of a wonderful day and weekend for all of you.



Yesterday Jerry asked me to explain how to add a link on a blog. I know a lot of you already know how to do that but as ever trying to be helpful let me explain. First you decide where you wish the link to be and place the cursor there. So if I wanted to link it to Jerrys blog I would place the cursor before his name. Then on the blogger dashboard hit the word Link. A box opens. In the top box I write Jerrys. Then in the box underneath I paste the link to his blog> I do this by opening his blog and copying the address bar and pasting it in this box. You must do it in that order. Then click ok and there you go as you will see if you Hit his name above. I have linked to your profile because I se you hae Two blogs Jerry. Hope this helps.

This blog is linked to my other. Lavender Fields

The Hospital Window

I have spent a lot of time in the past few weeks looking back. I am sure it is something we all do as we approach some of the big markers in life as I am about to. Yesterday as I walked I thought how lucky I was at my age to be able to enjoy so much of the beauty around me. Over the years I have met many people who have not been so blessed. All of those people who only saw life through a window of the hospital. Yet so many of them left me feeling uplifted and strengthened.


The young lady dying of cancer who likened herself to the leaf on the autumn tree clinging on to life for as long as she could, so wanting to celebrate her son going to school for the first time. She managed it and what a day it was. I was so privileged to share part of it with her. I wrote a poem for her and her husband asked if he could have it to give to his son.

Strength in adversity, thinking of others in the face of difficulty. Amazing people. Reminds me of the two men together in the side ward of the hospital.

They were both seriously ill. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room’s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, where they had been on vacation.

Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.

As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by.

Although the other man couldn’t hear the band – he could see it. In his mind’s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.

Days and weeks passed.

One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for them to wash and shave only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.

As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside.

He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.

It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window

The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.

She said, “Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.”

Is this not what we artists try to do all the time to portray to others the world we see and sometimes the world as we would like it to be.

This is the way of Tao.The Crashing Waves

Friends We Meet

It is good to be back from my vacation and I hope to be reading blogs again very soon. Today just a short note before I go and begin to catch up on all the tasks that need done around my plot and garden. Nature never stops even though we sometimes may.


I had a marvellous period of rest and exercise. Running most mornings finishing in the sea for a refreshing morning swim. I met many people whom I hope to continue to know and learn more about in the future. So often on vacation we meet people and promise to stay in touch and sadly we seldom do. I was fortunate to make friends with two families who I am determined to stay in touch with.

One of the families came to watch as I painted outside my caravan. They could speak no English and I no Spanish but still we managed. Spain, as you no doubt know, was playing in the world cup. The family gave me a gift of a Spanish flag to mark the occasion. The daughter of the family could speak a little English so we learned much about them, enough to know they were lovely people. Sadly she was only with them for a few days.

On the evening before our departure they gave us a gift of a bottle of wine to open on our wedding anniversary in a few weeks time. In return I gave them a pastel painting of a part of the beech they visited most days.

It is amazing how we can speak to people without being able to fully understand the language. Art has a marvellous way of crossing boundaries.

I am sorry this is not like my usual blogs but I feel it is appropriate to begin with this and get back into the flow of my usual later. I have some doubt if anybody is still looking at my blogs but I will be looking at yours over the next few days. I missed speaking to you all and look forward to renewing friendships.



This blog is linked to my other Motion and Emotion

The Incense Burner Maker

There is a true account of a lady named Kame who was born and brought up in Nagasaki. Her father before her had also been a maker of incense burners. The incense burners he made were of a very high quality and she followed in his footsteps, also making burners of the very highest quality. The burners she made were expensive, because she took her time and only sold those that matched the high standards she set.


She once made a burner for the mayor of Nagasaki which took more than six months to complete. That particular burner is now part of the treasured art of Japan.

I thought yesterday of the difference we now face in our society. Surrounded by the need for instant answers to all things, we have created the express society. You can go to Vision Express and have your eyes tested and the spectacles ready in no time at all. This may indeed be good if you cannot see. We have Shoe Express, now this one I find more difficult but at a push I can see somebody maybe broke a heel. Pizza Express, I have just thought I need something to eat and I need it real fast, I watched a person in a caravan near me yesterday morning returning from the local burger bar because he needed an express breakfast. Fast food does not after all claim to be good food just fast.

Now here is the one that got me thinking, Carpet Express. I have an emergency, I need a new carpet and I need it is the next hour. I can see the carpet fitters sitting tools to hand ready to answer the emergency calls for those who need a new carpet yesterday. I wonder if they had a twenty-four hour helpline for those who might have realised in the middle of the night they needed a carpet.

There is the story of the student who wanted to find the means to peace. He signed on to learn under a master. At the end of week one he told the master he wished to leave, he had not found anything. The master pleaded with him to stay another week. Again the same thing happened. This went on for a number of weeks. At last the master said to him, “Stay one more week and if at the end of that week you still have no answer, then you should kill yourself because you never will find the answer.” The student found his answer in two days.

In a life that is always at express speed it is often the case that we cannot focus on that which is important. The price we pay is quality. The price we pay, is never to know what it is we are seeking.



This blog is linked to my other where I discuss the art:- Abstract

A Case of Priorities

I spent a year of my life doing a post graduate course in counselling and psychology, during which time I had to write a thesis on some practical studies I did in my own time. I worked in a special unit of a large hospital. Here I met people who had found life so difficult they had taken an overdose or made some attempt at taking their own life. In one year I interviewed  2635 people. Many of them were just one off events and the event itself brought people to a point of accepting help and moving on. For others it was more complex.


One person was Cathy; she took a cocktail of drugs and alcohol each day.A cocktail that would have laid out most normal people. She was living rough, so when it came time for her to depart the unit I offered her our spare room. She stayed there for some time, and the promise was there was to be no drugs. She managed it amazingly well and with the odd relapse was getting better and looking better. She stayed with us for a fair bit, until we managed to arrange a small rented flat. She was so happy; I will remember the pride on this young woman’s face until the day I die.

Two years later we left Edinburgh to do a year in Moniefieth. Before I left she was looking great and life was indeed looking hopeful and a long way from where it had all started. It was therefore heartbreaking to read the newspaper one morning and read that a girl of her name had been found murdered in the River Leith. It seems she had met up with an old friend and that was the start of the end.

I am sorry that this sounds like a very sad and negative story but the reality of life has not been all success stories. The one thing I have learned and I know Jerry has a similar feeling is that we need to learn from all things.

There is the story of the young man who went to the master and said, “Master I want you to help me find god and enlightenment.” The master grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and dragged him over to the water and held his head under for a frightening length of time. When he pulled him out he said, “Now when your head was under the water what did you want most in life?” The young man replied, “Air.” “Right,” said the master, “go away and come back when you want god and enlightenment as much as you wanted air.”

We have to decide what we want and then we have to want it badly enough. If we want something badly enough nothing is impossible. Reading that paper that morning I learned that lesson and I have carried it with me to this day.

This is the way of the Tao.


This blog is linked to my other where I talk of the art used:- Rain Along The Shore


The two small paintings used on this blog are best viewed on my website where it is possible to enlarge them:   Seascape Paintings 

The Precious Vase

A wealthy business man was given a gift of an original work of art by his company on the date of his retirement. He so loved the painting, firstly because it had been given as a gift but also because he loved the painting itself. He was also very proud to own it because he was aware of its value in terms of the amount paid to purchase it. It gave him much pleasure, so much so that he decided he would collect more valuable works of art.


Sadly he did not always buy because he liked the art but because it had a monetary value that was within his budget. It gave him a thrill to win at an auction and to become the owner of art that others wanted.

One particular acquisition brought him much pleasure, a valuable vase. The vase was made of very delicate porcelain and hand painted. It was given pride of place in his room of “collectables.” From time to time he would invite friends in to see his art. Each time he would tell the story of how he acquired the item and how much he had paid for it. It gave him much pleasure.

He installed many security devices and paid a heavy premium on insurance. All worth it he thought, because of the pleasure it gave him.

One day he was in his room enjoying his collection. He reached up and took the precious vase into his hands. Cold to the touch he turned it and admired it, how proud he felt to have it in his possession. Just then he felt it slip from his hands, his heart raced. He grasped for it and caught it just before it crashed to the floor. He breathed a sigh of relief and sat down with the vase secure in his grasp. It was then that he realised how important they had become to him. For a moment he had sensed fear and all sorts of other emotions at the thought of the loss. He looked at the vase again, and thought of what had just happened. As he thought he opened his hands and allowed the vase to fall to the floor, where it shattered into many pieces. With it a sense of relief welled over him, he had come to his senses. He had re-discovered his priorities. His friends and family were more important than these, beautiful though they may indeed be, but they should bring joy to many in the seeing of them and not just because of their value.

We all know somebody who has lost all sense of the value of what is important in life. Material possessions have become more valuable and of worth, than the love of friends. Some live in such fear of people stealing their precious items they live in almost barricade conditions.

Never does a painting leave my possession without my feeling a pang of regret. Regret that I may never see it again. That feeling is soon overcome by the knowledge that others may have pleasure from it. When later I hear that they are still enjoying telling friends about it, makes me feel very happy.

This is the way of Tao.


The  explanation of the choice of picture can be seen at :- The Glory of Poppies

The Joy of Flowers

I had a trip to the garden centre, time to begin thinking about what I will be planting and growing this season. As I drove there I saw that the snowdrops are in bloom even though the distant hills are still covered in snow. I always leave the garden centre feeling uplifted by the beauty of the flowers available, especially my first love orchids. The colours, shapes and the aroma make me heady with delight. Flowers speak volumes in their silent beauty. They are part of all the great occasions and festivals. When we marry, the bride carries them the groom wears one in his jacket, When somebody dies we offer them as tokens of consolation and an expression of our loss. When somebody is successful we offer them flowers and of course they are symbols of love and romance.


Those little snowdrops as they poke their little heads above the ground and the snow, call to us to prepare for the coming of spring. The lotus tells us to reach above the muddy tarnished part of life to see greater things. Then we have the rose, with its bud, opening with a wondrous glory of layer upon layer of petals. Walking into a room and smelling the strong aromatic scent of the hyacinth.

They speak to us of how we can brighten the lives of others by bringing a pleasant sense of peace into every corner. They tell that there is nothing that cannot be made better. Think of the poppy, it manages to bloom in the barest of positions. It also reminds us of the frailty of life and how each moment should be grasped and lived to its full.

The gardener tends with care his plants encouraging them to give of their best. He feeds them, waters them and in windy conditions he helps by giving them support. In return they reward him with all that they have.

The artist can capture the beauty that is so fleeting and ephemeral, and allow that beauty to last for years to come. The poet will strive to find the words to express that inner joy that the sight of a flower can bring. Consider the words of William Wordsworth.

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Such is the way of the Tao.

Age and Its Many Faces

Memories can happen with the simplest of events igniting within us thoughts of times gone. Travelling down a path I walked with my father as a very young boy I remembered those days with a fondness. It had changed, as all things do. Where there once was just a path worn by the tread of feet now there was a tar macadam path. Where there had been edges to look over in excitement now there were safety fences. All of the adventure had gone now it was just a nice footpath to be walked, or run. Every so often a little fingerpost to guide one on the way and the warning signs of steep banks and deep water.


Time moves on for all of us. Each day is another step on the onward journey. The ancients were fond of telling us that there were things that would only be learned from the process of ageing. That is true. Yet nobody ever wants to really acknowledge that we are growing older all the time, and the older we get the less we want to admit this. But let us reflect on what this for just a moment.

Rather than concentrating on the span of years let me give you this to consider. There are different levels of consciousness, depending on the age we have reached. What the teenager knows, (even though they often think they know everything) is just perfect for being a teenager. In fact those who try to stay as teenagers long after they have moved past that age can look so foolish. What the elderly does is perfect for the elderly, anyone else who mimics the elderly can be accused of being ageist, and look foolish. There are benefits for each age and each level of consciousness. It would be good though if there was more respect between each age of this fact. There is nothing wrong with being in tune with ones age; it is the way of the Tao.

Now here is the important bit. None of this means that we cannot begin new things, things that others might have begun much earlier in life. There are people who begin running marathons when youth deficiency is beginning to raise its head. What must not be ignored is having started late there will not be much opportunity to represent your country at the Olympic Games. That come from the consciousness of the age, so they run to be the best they can.

Art offers new opportunities for all ages. It offers the feeling of new beginnings and a feeling of adventure and freedom. It allows expression for all at what ever level of consciousness. It bridges the gaps of thinking and allows expression of thought. I will be the expression that grows from the level of consciousness but that is the way of Tao.

Where so much of the adventure of life is being factored out for the artist each new project is one of adventure.

I had another thought that we need to take time to learn. It is important to take time to learn at all stages, and to give ourselves time. If life is a constant rush and we have no time to learn at each stage of life then we will arrive at old age having learned nothing.

The painting above is the portrait of a man full of worldly wisdom.

So Completed But not What I Thought.

Sometimes you just have to go with the paint and the heart and forget what the head is sayin. It is finished not too sure but I am doing no more other than maybe a further coat of finish.

Painting for others or painting for yourself.

I often wonder wether I paint for myself or for others. When somebody asks me to paint something just for them but leave me to paint what I think they might like it often works for me and them and the experience is a joy. I have completed a few commissions where this has been the case. Then there is those who ask for something specific. I find this so difficult I often reach the point where I feel I will never take another commission ever. So often this means that I have to try more than once to please the client. Then there are those paintings that I paint for me. The ones that give me so much pleasure where I can let the paint and I be in harmony. Some of these paintings never sell, some are painted over but ever so often I have no problems with people being interested in them. I have even had interest shown by a fellow artist and this humbles me and make me consider it something to enjoy and feel pleasure in.

One thing for sure no matter what category the painting is in it is a joy if it sells. it means others like your work. Then when the day comes to send them off there is a wrench at the heart strings as your baby leaves the nest.

The painting I have added to this blog is one of those I have been asked to to and pray it meets the requirements. It is different from the one the person liked as it would have to be I just hope enough of a similarity to bring pleasure.

How has it gone so far?

Well here I am I have been painting for almost two years now. At first I could sell not a thing and the paintings were begining to mount. So the first thing I did was put those paintings into the boot of the car. My thinking was that if I ever get half a chance to show them I would do just that. My first opportunity came at a conference I was attending. Over a pint at the bar in the evening I sold two of my paintings. I was overjoyed. At breakfast the next day I sold a further three, without even having to show them again. So I left that conference feeling up lifted. Maybe I should be showing in some local art shows. So far I had not wanted to have the competition and the feeling of rejection, but hey I had sold a few in one weekend. It was later my son said I should consider a website. My mind began to turn and the thought stayed with me. Should I or should I not? We will see next blog.