Hello, I have said this many times before and I'll make this the last time I do, you all know the score by now. Sorry for not posting for a while I've been creating, both painting and writing, and of course I've been filling the inspirational well, the place where I delve down deep for the roots of feeling that I try to convey in my art, whether it be the painting's I paint or the writing's I write. Here are some photos of the places I've been and the things I've seen, with a couple of the things I was inspired to create along the way.

This is a wonderful sight in this day and age 'Business as usual at this, one of north Devon's political hubs'

The first pristine day on the beach, I've seen the place where sea meets land in many of it's moods, and no time is ever the same as the last.

'Dogs Must Be Kept On Leads' fortunately at this particular beach as long as you clean up after your buddy's anyone can run free on the sand. I love the look on her face when I take off her lead, as I've said in a couple of my poems, humanity would do well to take a leaf from the 'Book of Dogs' and enjoy the simple things, like the freedom of the beach.

'Inspiration for the greatest of deeds can come from the simplest of acts'

©D.N.Read 2013

Damien Hirst's 'Verity'

This photo taken at night does nightly virtue, uniquely in my experience, this particular sculpture is good in any light, I've seen her on stormy days, in the searing heat of midsummer, and on many other occasions as well. I'm not usually a fan of Damien Hirst's work, but in my humble opinion this piece will stand as one of the greats.

I really needn't say much but this; look out for painting's of night time sea's, and writings of the ebb and flow.

Lights on the waters of any harbor have always enchanted me, this night was certainly one of those times that fill the well of inspiration.

The harbor town chapel and light house, guiding fishermen in many ways for many years of seasons.

Art for the folk of this day, the sea has claimed back the driftwood, rolled away the stones, filled in the holes and washed away the circles in the sand...but we had it for that moment, as did all the folk who passed that day.

The sleepy hidden valley's of the moorlands have always held magic.

This day, just to breathe was to fall under the spell.

 Woodland, the cradle of my soul.

On the road again, I always have the 'Canned Heat' song of the same name in my head when I get back to traveling. 

A homeward stretch.

This was one weekend of many filling the well and living life, as the old saying goes 'Work to live' find a balance between paying the bills and enjoying life with every breath and freedom is yours. You don't have to live in a hippie commune to live the dream.

Peace In All