I wonder if I'm feeling nostalgic. More it's about connecting to others I think. It's about the time it has taken alone to create every single day for years. The sacrifices for what I hoped might have been a career in art. It's funny because the last few months has seen professional recognition from peers, a number of sales, and more recently two paintings I made in 2004, donated to The Peter Scott Collection at Lancaster University. It's all good news and yet there comes with it all too much sorrow. Sometimes things aren't as they appear. I wonder why it was just by chance I discovered my paintings were at The Peter Scott gallery and why nobody in this day and age could have contacted me so I could attend the private view. If it hadn't been for a friend just happening upon my work hanging so beautifully in the gallery and having been restored by a conservator, I may never have known they'd been gifted, may never have known my work had made it into a public collection. Every single thing in this 'career' has been bittersweet. I'd love to have attended the private view and yet also I am indebted to The Peter Scott Gallery for restoring and exhibiting the work. Maybe it's time to try and quit what is, above all else, simply an addiction.