Welcome. Please feel free to rest awhile. This is a celebration of Slow Art.
Fine art that has been crafted over long days and nights, where the ticking clock is a soft serenade, not an alarm.
Sketching and etching the tired lines, ridges and furrows on an elderly face that has weathered a lifetime is a
long, slow experience.
It's a meditation on life, aging and the beauty of reflection.
From high up in my attic studio the frantic, noisy world feels far away. Without beeping phones, flashing notifications and relentless reminders of undone ToDo Lists I have found my flow. Out of the silence and calm a timid flame of creativity has sparked and with only a pencil and a terrifyingly large expanse of white paper before me I sit down to draw.
We often hear about the mystical concept of 'Flow' - where time stops and one enters a truly creative zone. After a lifetime focussed on corporate work and then family, in the midst of my soul-searching angst of middle-age I feel incredibly lucky to have finally found own sense of 'flow', a creative energy... in drawing and writing.
Faces of elderly people from around the world are blooming over my walls. Papering the room with their beatific, weary smiles, and intense searching gazes.
I have tried to enter their worlds and cultures through the leathery song lines of their skins, tracing their stories like maps over the surface contours.
In today's culture of glorifying youth, I want to pay homage to the beauty and wisdom of the aged.