Childhood Magic




I had a magical childhood. 

Everything was believable, and why wouldn't it be….my Mother told me it was true so it was. I remember spending hours down the bottom of our garden looking for the fairies Mum had seen there while she was hanging out the washing. She saw them and if I looked hard enough…I would too!

Books were a large part of our daily routine and the best time of all was the stories I had read to me at bedtime. The illustrations were of the highest importance to me and I knew (as all 6 year olds do) that if the drawings were good , the story will be too. One book in particular haunted me and to my great surprise I managed to find that book at a garage sale many years after my childhood copy was gone.

The creating of these paintings was a sort of therapy for me. Images that had been sub conscientiously remembered but long not seen, now had a vessel for viewing. I received a huge amount of pleasure recalling my childhood magic as I created these works. And I find that even today , I smile my 6 year old smile as I look at them. They are very special to me, a part of my life that is carried deep inside but now are able to be shared and hopefully urge us all to hold on to treasured parts of our youth.

And Im still looking for fairies as I hang out my washing!