I am a painter of pictures. Every Art form has an element of self indulgence, it can provide the artist with a means of escape from the pain of life, but paradoxically it can reveal and increase our ability to be humane and liberate the collective soul. This poem written in 2006 is about that.

WHEN I PAINT.

When I paint there is only a world

where colour sings, so crystal clear

it drowns out the screams of children

lost in our dangerous cities, 

the weeping hearts whose blood

stains all our hands,

and so I feel guilty for the smile

that takes me away from all those tears,

and yet I feel humbled by the power of colour

to transcend our folly and misguided ways.

When I paint I forsake today,

to see into tomorrow.

When I paint I forget that the world is round.