India circa 1986

A trip down the ginnels of calcutta 
 What a wonderfully intriguing place, as an entirely new and alien culture to a young me it warranted staying for an extended stay, from one day to the next I never knew what I would see or find. Walking out one day into tje humidity, smells and bustling life I found,  hidden behind blind alleyways a different world of new exploration, layers upon layers of alleyways and places where the cautious tourists rarely happen upon unless they are a little lost,  places that excepting the curious tourists the residents and workers of this mini eco system rarely saw a visitor.
This day I happened upon a small rug making enterprise set back into a 3 walled room, the front open to the air where 2 looms were operated by a couple of young children, it was c1985 and the child labour laws have changed since then Im sure, I watched them working away for about half an hour remembering my own youth as a working child. 
By the age of fifteen, I was already no stranger to work. Growing up in rural Cornwall, I spent several years helping on local farms, learning early the value of long days, responsibility and getting a job done regardless of the weather. Alongside that I had worked wherever, serving customers from a travelling fish and chip van, helping on an ice cream van during the summer months, and taking front-of-house roles in cafés and village shops. Those experiences, scattered across fields, lanes and small communities, gave me an understanding of people that no classroom could provide. Looking back from the crowded streets of Calcutta, it was impossible not to recognise how those formative Cornish years had quietly prepared me for a world far larger and more varied than I could ever have imagined, while still keeping him firmly grounded in the values of hard work, adaptability and appreciation for everyday life.

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A Quiet Return It’s been a few years since anything new appeared on this blog. No dramatic exit, no crisis, no grand story — just life unfolding in its own quiet way while I wandered off into a long stretch of creative exploration. I didn’t spend that time chasing expectations or trying to produce anything impressive. In fact, it was the opposite. I let myself make things without pressure, without anticipation, and without any need for an audience. It was a good kind of absence — the sort that gives you space to breathe and rediscover what you enjoy. Along the way, painting slipped out of my hands. Not abandoned in frustration, just… released. It had carried me through many chapters, but eventually it felt like a language I’d said enough in. So I turned to sculpture, almost by accident, and found myself on a long, meandering tour through every material within reach. Papier‑mâché came first — messy, forgiving, and strangely liberating.Foam followed, stubborn but full of possibility.Cardboard had its moment too, proving far more architectural than I expected. Each material taught me something different about form, weight, and patience. And then, gradually, I settled into polymer clay. It felt right — structured but flexible, expressive without demanding perfection. It opened a new path, and with it came another journey: exploring genre, tone, and character in ways paint never quite allowed. So yes, I’ve been away. But not idle.Just quietly occupied in the kind of creative work that doesn’t need announcing. Now the blog returns — not as a relaunch, not as a promise, but simply as a continuation. A place to share what I’ve been shaping, learning, and enjoying along the way. If you’ve found your way back here too, welcome. Let’s see where this next chapter leads.

Polymer Clay 01

grounding