There’s something about a concertina sketchbook; the format seems so perfect for the narrative I wish to convey. It goes on and on and on. You can fold the book in various ways so different landscapes appear; a never-ending source of delight!

The end of a glorious summer day. The light was fading, sounds of the day melting away, punctured only by the chattering of the swallows and house martins as they swooped and skimmed over the surface of the water, before heading off to roost. I recall sitting on the riverbank, cool drink in hand, aware of the hush that was ‘settling’ over the landscape; that period before the stars of the nighttime - both in the heavens and on land - made their appearance. The trees and tall reeds seemed to bow to the river, paying homage, before sharing stories from the day; the meandering river carrying them downstream, scattering them on the breeze…

It’s funny isn’t it, how, setting out to do one thing sends you down a rabbit hole of another, totally unrelated thing… I started out, full of good intentions to de-clutter my old laptop - before it totally crashes. Opening up old folders, some of which included files I couldn’t even download because the operating systems no longer function, I discovered a veritable plethora of ‘stuff’: essays for uni, bibliography lists, H & S forms for long-gone exhibitions… to name but a few. But hidden amongst all these, were folders helpfully titled (!!!) ‘Photos for Twitter’ and ‘Carolyn’s photos’.