I’ve been rummaging in the ‘never processed images archive’ again. Around this time in England last year I visited this ferny grave beside a ruined church, where all names and all sorrow have long since been worn away.
A while back I ran away from a twentymumble-year corporate career to be a feckless art student. Since then I've dirtied my hands with, metaphorically and/or literally, bronze and ceramic sculpture, photography, and digital and traditional illustration. Mask making was one discovery, dovetailing with my interests in teaching and performing improvised theatre.
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A Little Art 