Chrissy Amphlett, hand drawn on iPad. It would’ve been easier to recolour a photo as I did with the Marilyn pics last night, but the last thing I want is to lose my drawing skills. With drawing…you have to use it or lose it……everyday.


A painting I did over the weekend. 90 x 90cm canvas (poor quality photo, sorry). The intention was to hang it at a restaurant near where I work, as a promotional device… however one of my work colleagues says she wants it now!

The dots on her coat are small holes I made with a skewer. I wanted to try something….but after I made the holes I changed my mind, so….. apparently pointless vandalism of the canvas. What ya gonna do?


It happens in unexpected ways, on lovely ordinary days and quiet bus rides home. Two men discussing cricket.. arguing over points or wickets or whatever it is they do. “My dad loves cricket.” I hear myself say.. to the window.. the girl in the glass.

“Grown men standing around on the grass all day.”

“You’d like it if you understood.” he’d say. So I’d sit a while and listen and watch his eyes glistening, glued to the screen, as he’d try to explain the mind-numbing game.

“Hmmmmm…” I’d say….and he’d wave me away with mock disdain. “You’re all like your mother. Go…play with your hair. Phone your friends and go somewhere.”

“Awe… Dad… don’t be that way.”

“Go on. Go on….and don’t come home too late.”

Green terrace dream

Last night my dream was so green. A stone garden terrace at dusk. Him up there, on the phone, while I strolled along the grass below, enjoying the cool evening air.

A building appeared, smooth, austere… and looking inside, I saw a friend there, who waved me in, but I shook my head, no. I wasn’t ready yet, and here’s the strange thing… I turned and stood on a field, beside a large empty board, I felt I had to move.

I pushed it and saw where the shadow fell, but I wasn’t satisfied, and I continued to push and measure the length of the shadows as my arms grew tired and the sun left the sky.

Rose harbour


Flowing East to moonlight, rose-coloured water and sky. First Autumn clouds sighed. Pink-hued wavelets shone, and suddenly the day was gone as a dark blue curtain fell, and the soft harbour whispered… “touch me.. fall into me, sky…. come share this ink delight.” And so it seemed that heaven and water were one in sweet dark night.

The Last Goodbye

Drawing of beautiful, sad young woman, titled 'Another Sad Love Song' by Lee WildeAre you staying?” I already knew the answer, the small, chilled word in my chest.

“No. I can’t.”

“You mean you won’t.”

A silent moment there, neither daring to touch the jagged edge. He stared down at his hands, beautiful, smooth. “I just can’t.”

Continue reading “The Last Goodbye”