I’ve always found great solace in the art of writing. It is so much quicker and cleaner than painting and the art can be performed anywhere, anytime and on anything.  

In the past, when bogged down with tricky thoughts, I have managed to gain clarity by shifting the problems in my cluttered mind onto paper and then, when  visually confronted, rearranging them in such a way, that they make sense. The mountains of unused words are then discarded. The space created in my mind, acts as a magnet for the next season of abundance to commence.  

I also hoard ideas and meaningful words and write them down for “Future Reference”. The vague concept of “Future” can drag into decades of being unproductive.

My art making process follows the same pattern, but in comparison to my stash of filled notebooks and journals, very few paintings see the light. My mind is occupied by the largest virtual art museum, filled with invisible paintings signed by me.

All of this virtual, creative activity, is the surest way of spinning oneself into an frenzied and intricate cocoon and immobilizing and entombing oneself in a seemingly inescapable chrysalis. 

In addition to all of this, I have extensive amounts of hard copy which consists of framed and unframed paintings, drawings and sketches and vast photographic archives with professional images of documented work, of which over the years, many have been sold.

In addition to all of the above mentioned, I have 1000’s of printed photographs inserted into a few hundred albums. Many more 1000’s of exquisite and historical, photographic memories, studies and experiments, that have only been saved on external hard drives. Painstaking documentation of the time-consuming process of important and lesser paintings are neatly stored in folders. 

Photographs of friends, VIP guests and collectors visiting, exhibition openings, random images in my studio and vaults filled with my inspirational reference material. This collection does not even take into consideration my family, friends and expanded personal and professional life.

The written and completed essays on observations, methods, descriptions, philosophies, feelings, theories, techniques and travel journals, are unknown and unread. These are virtual and hard copy.

In addition to all of this, I have storerooms filled with primed and prepared boards and canvasses of all sizes, just waiting for me to materialize my dreams onto them. Storage cabinets with drawing books and hand made papers, abundant Art material of all sorts, paint brushes of all kinds, wait patiently for me to utilize them. Shelves are stacked with tubes of oil paint. A cupboard is filled with water color sets, pencils and colored pencils of all sorts, pens, sharpeners, erasers, inks, palettes, brushes, cleansers, etc etc.

My collections started off as boxes filled with invisible objects and then mutated  as Curiosity cabinets filled with collections of all things weird and wonderful. However as an ongoing process, ledges and surfaces have evolved in receptacles for little altars, of which for lack of space, the edges have gradually blended into each other creating one diverse, flowing panorama of inspiration and fascination. Transparent and opaque boxes fill open areas. They are filled with strange collections and objects find their way on top of their lids. Sometimes boxes are stacked on top of another, whilst others are inserted one inside of the other.  The tiniest most invisible box could be the secret chamber of some treasured object such as a lion’s tooth, a gold filling or a mummified frog. Tiny and subtle adjustments are made with each addition, feeding and stimulating my creative addiction.

I become so stimulated with all the possibilities and permutations racing through my head, that I wear myself out with all the mental activity and spin the Chrysalis even tighter and thicker. Will I ever escape? Will I become strong enough to split the chrysalis so that my wings my slowly unfold?  What will it take? 

The suffering is excruciating, I cannot breathe, I am suffocating myself with abundance and excess….blessings…. How strange that Covid also causes asphyxiation

?My good intentions are wearing me out.  However I know and realize that if things don’t flow out, everything will stagnate and become putrid. Everything eventually has a ‘sell-by-date’.

Good intentions are not actions and the engine must be forcefully kicked into activity/action.

Besides having my own most magnificent studio with Heavenly light, I also have a separate Private Gallery where I have shown and can show my work. 

The past 2 years especially and ever since my husband and I had Covid exactly a year ago, I have been feeling defeated and struggle to motivate myself.


I have discovered this draft today. I may or may not add to it at some time in the future, but for now, just reading through it, has been a major ‘kick-in-the-***’!