A sketch with watercolour pencils of a Polar Bear and cubs:

A sketch with watercolour pencils of a Polar Bear and cubs:
A road to the central volcano of Faial island in the Azores, lined with blue Hyrandgea flowers:
A painting of our oldest hen, called Dave. I’ve tried to indicate movement:
Dave belongs to my youngest son, who is 17 today.
Draw me with bold charcoal
Leave the pussyfooting fine graphite alone.
As you apply colour,
let the sun glint chestnut in my hair and
remember the red spot in my iris,
my special mark.
Leave out those shadows by my eyes,
my penance for a life sleep deprived.
They are not the essence of me.
Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Written in response to a poetry prompt, to get me writing poetry again after all the rush and activity of Christmas.
“Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.”
Leonardo da Vinci
Let’s start the New Year with a colourful cafe flying the Jolly Roger in Angra do Heroísmo, Azores.
I have now painted this rock several times –not sure why!
Floating abstract rosebuds, achieved by swirling a brush of colour on a wet wash.
Some of the stones in the outer circle at Avebury in Wiltshire.
A scene glimpsed from the road as we returned from visiting our eldest son at University. The high ridges of a winter ploughed field catching the low light of a sunset: