I have not produced Still Life photographs in a while. Interestingly enough the very last shot of more than 40 was the perfect one to my eye

I imagined my death this morning: In a car crash or by a bullet. I felt sorry for myself. I cried over my corpse for a while. Soon after I started talking of cows, of the government, of how expensive life is nowadays, And I felt better, a little bit good. I meant to tell you that I am really ill. As if without skin, hurt by the air around, wounded by the sun, by words, by dreams. An annoying devil has climbed on the back of my head and doesn't leve me alone. Ulcerous, rotten, I have to live crawling, on all fours, slowly, any way I can. [Jaime Sabines (1926-1999)]

As part of reducing my colour output and exploring high contrast dark images, here a sample from the dry lands near Nijar, Almeria

When the night comes And you lay your weary head to rest No more trials, no tests When the night comes Don't be afraid You're only dreaming Don't be afraid You're only dreaming

One of the attraction of Doddington Place gardens is the cloud hedges, worth visiting!

Experimenting with brushes...

A reconstruction of the fort and its cause-way, as the tide comes in...

What with the quarantines, winter and continuous rain, I am outputting more still life, as a wait for the ingredients needed to start a cyanotype project. This image will be a possible one.

Have clouds... will travel! The constant changing Kent's landscapes, late afternoon after harvest...