I have spent the last day of 2012 in the shed making enamel sketches.
Four pieces of steel covered in flux and white enamel.
Gold and silver leaf,
and my favourite transfers.
They could be straight out of my sketch book.
"Hope" is the thing with feathers-
That perches in the soul-
And sings the tune without the words-
And never stops-at all-
And sweetest-in the Gale-is heard-
And sore must be the storm-
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm-
I've heard it in the chilliest land-
And on the strangest Sea-
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb-of Me.
Happy and creative New Year.