'One cannot speak anymore of being, one must speak only of mess.' - Samuel Beckett

Monday, April 23, 2007

Everybody's crazy except for me.


148x148 cm


183x122 cm

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Je suis malade

I am sick deep down inside with a broken heart; I have tried to play the angels and of course I have lost. I hope that I can find redemption, her voice is the only thing that can save me right now and as I write this all that I can think about hangs in the balance. All I ask is for a second chance because all around me is dead without her. My fire burns for her; it seems that I had to die before I could see what she really was to me and I hope that it's not too late. I am confounded by myself.

Today I came across an artist offering prints of his work for free on the corner of a street; I walked past him. But then I walked back and looked at him, what did I see? I gave him five pounds because for that at least I would have been grateful. We'd both lived in Maidenhead many years ago and the picture, the one that I had chosen, was of a garden in Berkshire that he had rendered as an etching and added to; a sculpture symbolic of love he explained and as I left he gave me his card and on the back of that card it said, 'Heart Work by David.D.Hodgekiss - Hoping to spread the harmony, vitality and truth of love.' This is what I had forgotten, I've been too busy being selfish.

Saturday, April 14, 2007


Monday, April 09, 2007