May-day, cumulus and bluebells

It is May the first and the sun is out-paying us a fleeting visit.  Still it is fairly cold for any dancing around a maypole, though I see that down in Melbury Osborne in Dorset an Ooser (a masked shape-shifter whose job description is ‘glare menacingly’) has brought in the new month on a hill above Cerne Abbas. You read it here first. When I looked up the Ooser and his terrifying animistic visage I couldn’t help but be reminded of our resident labyrinthians…much gentler altogether, I am sure…


Solace, Bronze Ed. 1 of 10, 94 x 80 x 80 cm. £45,000


Reading Minotaur V, Bronze, Ed. of 15, 53 x 40 x 29 cm £12,800


May Day by Sara Teasdale

A delicate fabric of bird song
Floats in the air,
The smell of wet wild earth
Is everywhere.

Red small leaves of the maple
Are clenched like a hand,
Like girls at their first communion
The pear trees stand.

Oh I must pass nothing by
Without loving it much,
The raindrop try with my lips,
The grass with my touch;

For how can I be sure
I shall see again
The world on the first of May
Shining after the rain?


No sooner do I begin with one of these emails about enjoying the sunshine than the weather gods look down and decide that here they have another fool to deal with, ‘making his plans, making the gods laugh’ (to paraphrase the yiddish proverb). So cloud is what we have now….we have lots of words for clouds. Perspective makes all the difference….

Ogwen 1, Oil on Canvas 128 x 161 cm. £7,500


Misty Tops, Oil on Board, 25 x 38 cm. £1,700


Bath Night Indigo, Oil on copper, 25 x 35 cm. £1,600


Apropos of making plans…

‘Children’ by Kahlil Gibran

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, ‘Speak to us of Children.’
And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

Exhibiting alongside the three talented painters featured above, and as a counterpoint to any inclemency portended by overcast clouds, we have the ceramics of Sara Moorhouse, bright, colourful and uplifting……


22. Small Conical Saturn Form Stoneware 10 x 15 cm. £295


And finally…

‘May’ by Mary Oliver

‘May, and among the miles of leafing,
blossoms storm out of the darkness—
windflowers and moccasin flowers. The bees
dive into them and I too, to gather
their spiritual honey. Mute and meek, yet theirs
is the deepest certainty that this existence too—
this sense of well-being, the flourishing
of the physical body—rides
near the hub of the miracle that everything
is a part of, is as good
as a poem or a prayer, can also make
luminous any dark place on earth.’

Please click on the images above to take you to the artists’ webpages.

The current exhibition runs until 11 May 2024.
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Thank you very much for reading.