Many more times than once I have looked longingly at a burrow fostered within the roots of an old and wizened forest and wished I were small enough to wander through the entrance. To curl up against the warm fur of the inhabitants, to visit their larder, drink tea by their fireside and chat about earthly things.
Throughout my childhood and my adulthood, literary burrows have taken me to wondrous places. I’ve been down a rabbit hole with Alice, spring cleaned Moley’s little home and settled by the fire in Badger’s family pile. Then of course there were the Hobbits, Brownies, Fairies and Beatrix Potter’s burrowing familiars. Somewhat like burrows, and equally enticing, there are the other under-earth dwellings - caves. Though, I imagine these are a little more capable of taking someone of my own size...no mushroom required. In these magical hollows I have found Narnian Fawns, treasure hording Dragons and, more recently, Tibetan Saints.
Burrows and homes of the earth have always been a sanctuary; a safe place to explore the mind and it’s innate ability to wander unrestrained, for better or worse. The nature of mind and imagination is another topic altogether and whether our minds are individual or collective, well, I will leave that for you to ponder.
The images and creations you will find here, within the swirling tendrils of the interweb, are explorations of The Imagination, whatever it may be. Images that come from nowhere and, if I’m not quick enough to capture them, disappear into nothingness. Creating pictures for me is much the same as gradually opening the shutters, or drawing the curtains to peer through an open window into the realm of Untold Stories. Staring into blank paper, images begin to appear in the whiteness. Then gently, softly, pencil and paint explore the landscape and embrace it’s creatures and it’s people. For a brief moment I am honoured to be present in a land both familiar and fantastic.